WIDOWS' PEAK
A film review by Scott Renshaw
Copyright 1994 Scott Renshaw
Starring: Mia Farrow, Joan Plowright, Natasha Richardson, Adrian Dunbar, Jim Broadbent. Screenplay: Hugh Leonard. Director: John Irvin.
I can't think of a film in the last few years set in Ireland that I did not enjoy, and I'm fairly sure it's not coincidence. When an Irish setting is involved, I tend to lose all objectivity. It's me Celtic roots crying out, it is. The verdant hills, the piqued accents, the mystical Catholicism ... all grip me in a way that is difficult to explain. So I warn ye to take my comments regarding WIDOWS' PEAK with a certain grain of salt, even though I believe that you don't need to be a Celtophile to find it a wonderfully entertaining comedy-mystery.
Set in 1926, WIDOWS' PEAK is the story of a unique community of Kilshannon, Ireland, so nicknamed by the locals because of its rather restrictive demographics. The mother of Mrs. Doyle Counihan (Joan Plowright) left a will permitting only widows to live in the houses on her land, with special exceptions allowed like that for Miss Katherine O'Hare (Mia Farrow). Into this insular world comes Mrs. Edwina Broome (Natasha Richardson), a flamboyant Englishwoman raised in America. Although Mrs. Broome claims to be the widow of a wealthy English soldier, Miss O'Hare is very vocal in her suspicions that Mrs. Broome is not what she claims to be, particularly when Mrs. Broome begins romancing Mrs. Doyle Counihan's son Godfrey (Adrian Dunbar). The feud between the two women escalates until scandalous secrets come to the fore, and the town is filled with talk of murder.
WIDOWS' PEAK was directed by John Irvin, whose previous projects have been primarily action-oriented (RAW DEAL, HAMBURGER HILL), and it may be that sensibility which makes this film more than just another pastoral romp. While there is plenty of lovely scenery, there is also a tremendous level of energy, a sassy edge uncommon to films in similar settings. A sequence involving Miss O'Hare and Mrs. Broome racing across a lake on motorboats is staged with zest, and the town regatta seems genuinely alive with activity. The high spirits are further enhanced by the performances. Joan Plowright is wonderful as the dowager queen of Widows' Peak, even if she could play a part like this in her sleep by now. Her matter-of- fact confidence that her every whim should be gospel is delightful to watch, as are the subtle ways in which she demonstrates her condescension. Natasha Richardson goes appropriately over-the-top as the sexy and (perhaps) sinister Mrs. Broome, looking precisely like the personification of a red dress at a funeral. Adrian Dunbar is also exceptional as Godfrey, who puts on a great show of wanting to break free of his mother's overbearing will, but proves too willing to play the doting son.
Of course, there is also Mia Farrow. In her first post-Woody outing, Farrow reminds us that she can indeed play something besides a female version of Woody Allen's neurotic persona. Her role here is a tricky one to pull off, balancing several layers of suspicion and deception, but she does pull it off, and with surprising grace. She gets some positively venomous lines, and seems to delight in delivering them. Irvin has clearly made her role the showcase, and in one last lingering shot, seems to be saying, "I knew you could do it."
The mystery elements which drive the second half of the film are perhaps a bit too easy to figure out, as Irvin and screenwriter Hugh Leonard underline each of their clues with too much emphasis. But if they are not tremendously surprising, it doesn't seem as though they were really intended to be. This is not a film predicated on some gasp-inducing, CRYING GAME-like twist; rather, the plot twists are just there to allow the character development, befuddling at first, to fall into place. In fact, the only time WIDOWS' PEAK really slows down is when there is lengthy exposition, particularly at a dinner party which is unfortunately handled in a slightly clumsy manner. But with or without the mystery, WIDOWS' PEAK would still have been funny and frisky, filled with nicely detailed cultural moments but mostly just a crisp and fun-filled hour and forty minutes.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 widows: 8.
-- Scott Renshaw Stanford University Office of the General Counsel
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