THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS
A film review by Scott Renshaw
Copyright 1994 Scott Renshaw
Starring: Jeremy Irons, Meryl Streep, Glenn Close, Winona Ryder, Antonio Banderas. Screenplay/Director: Bille August.
Early in THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS, the narrative voice of Winona Ryder describes her mother's reason for keeping extensive diaries: "Everything happens so fast that we don't have time to understand events." And that just about covers most of what is wrong with this adaptation of Isabel Allende's novel. There are plenty of other things wrong--inappropriate tone, dreadful miscasting, laughable acting--but the fundamental failing of THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS is a screenplay which races from scenario to scenario without any apparent concern for the establishment of character. When this two hour-plus "epic" concluded, I felt nothing for the characters and embarrassment for the cast.
THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS spans forty-five years in the life of Esteban Trueba (Jeremy Irons), an ambitious man in an unnamed South American country. Esteban soon becomes a wealthy landowner, and eventually decides to marry Clara (Meryl Streep), the sister of his former fiancee and a woman with supernatural gifts. Also coming to the Trueba home is Esteban's spinster sister Ferula (Glenn Close), who is strangely fascinated by Clara. Esteban and Clara have a daughter, Blanca, who as a young woman (Winona Ryder) falls in love with poor laborer Pedro (Antonio Banderas). Pedro becomes a leader of the socialist wave sweeping the country, and Esteban forbids their romance. As the country is torn apart by civil strife, so are the Truebas torn apart in many different ways.
It is difficult to comprehend how Bille August thought he could accomplish everything it seems he wanted to accomplish in only 140 minutes. In fact, after only twenty minutes I could tell that THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS should have been a miniseries, and should have been directed by someone else. There is no texture, no depth and no life to any of these characters; August directs as though he is interested only in getting in, doing a scene, and getting out. As just one example, the scene in which Clara asks Ferula to come live with her and Esteban should have been packed with emotion, as a woman who has lived her whole life doing for others has kindness shown to her, perhaps for the first time. But Close has just a few minutes of screen time before this scene, giving Ferula no chance to develop that history. Later, Blanca and Pedro meet after Blanca returns from boarding school, a meeting we are told has taken place over several summers. The problem is that this scene is the first time Ryder and Banderas are on screen together, making her profession of love ring totally false. Everything is too densely compressed and without resonance, and THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS blasts through six decades without leaving any emotion in its wake.
With such a basic flaw at the core of the film, all other criticism seems like nit-picking. However, it is difficult not to note that THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS could have been much better with a cast that seemed at all comfortable in these roles. The primary culprit is Jeremy Irons, whose performance here is, quite simply, appalling. Esteban is the pivotal character in this story, but Irons gives no subtlety to his systematic alienation of his family. In his defense, he does have to deliver his lines through an obviously annoying set of false teeth, but he still mugs his way shamelessly through scenes which required an understanding of traditional Latino conceptions of masculinity which he clearly did not have. Winona Ryder continues to act out of her depth, although she has some good scenes in the final half hour when the political drama takes center stage. Close has a thankless, twitchy role, and Streep merely looks radiant without having any real presence. Only Banderas and Joaquin Martinez, as Esteban's bastard son, show any spark. How curious ... that two Hispanic actors should seem to grasp this material. It sort of makes you wonder what might have been.
Miramax must have looked at the pedigree on this film and thought it had a purebred winner on its hands. Instead they got a hyperactive shaggy dog. I hope someday someone films THE HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS as a miniseries. In Spanish. The material deserves a second chance.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 spirits: 3.
-- Scott Renshaw Stanford University Office of the General Counsel
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