The Proprietor (1996)
A film review by James Berardinelli
Copyright 1996 James Berardinelli
RATING (0 TO 10): 5.5 Alternative Scale: ** out of ****
United States, 1996 U.S. Release Date: beginning 10/18/96 (limited) Running Length: 1:53 MPAA Classification: R (Sex) Theatrical Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1
Cast: Jeanne Moreau, Sean Kelly, Sam Waterston, Christopher Cazenove, Nell Carter, Sean Young, Josh Hamilton Director: Ismail Merchant Producers: Humbert Valsan and Donald Rosenfeld Screenplay: Jean-Marie Besset and George Swift Trow Cinematography: Larry Pizer Music: Richard Robbins U.S. Distributor: Warner Brothers In English and French with subtitles
It's a bold proclamation to say that no film featuring the incomparable Jeanne Moreau can be all bad, but, given the evidence of some of the mediocre material redeemed by the actress (THE SUMMER HOUSE, for example), it's hard to refute. THE PROPRIETOR is a real test of her skills, and it's a testament to her talent and screen presence that she somehow manages to render this muddled, uneven film watchable. This may not be vintage Moreau, but it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that she still has what it takes to capture audiences.
I wish I could say that the quality of the script equals Moreau's performance, but it doesn't. This is a terribly disjointed piece of writing that combines all sorts of bizarre elements into a fragmented whole. About a third of the time, I had no idea what was going on. Characters are inserted without an introduction, and we're supposed to recognize their importance immediately. Whole scenes appear to have been cut out. Transitions, when they exist, are often jarring. There's certainly a problem with the editing, but the more fundamental flaw lies in the basic incoherence of the screenplay.
Moreau plays Adrienne Mark, a once-revered French writer who, in her twilight years, is living an unfulfilling existence in New York City. Back in 1960, she wrote a novel, JE M'APPELLE FRANCE, that became an international best-seller. It was turned into a critically-lauded movie that "changed the way we look at women." More than a decade later, the film was re-made by Hollywood as a trashy, market-grabber called CALL ME FRENCH. And, though her best years as a writer are behind her, Adrienne is still remembered for those films. Movie buffs like William O'Hara (Josh Hamilton) adore the former while big-time producers like Virginia Kelly (Sean Young) applaud the latter.
The story gets moving when Adrienne learns that her childhood home in France, where she lived until her Jewish mother (Charlotte De Turckheim) was taken by the Gestapo, is up for auction. Selling all of her worldly possessions with the help of an art dealer (Sam Waterston), Adrienne attempts to acquire enough cash to register the highest bid on the Paris apartment. In making the trip across the Atlantic, she discovers that there's more to confronting her guilt-laden memories than simply coming home. And, as a cache of hidden letters reveals, her perception of the events following her mother's capture may be terribly wrong.
When the film focuses on Adrienne's attempts to placate her personal ghosts, it's reasonably involving, but, ultimately, THE PROPRIETOR is hamstrung by far too many unsuccessful tangents. The most interesting of these involves Virginia's attempts to remake a black-and- white French classic into a mainstream Hollywood movie. (DIABOLIQUE, anyone?) While this touches on some of the issues that divide art from mainstream entertainment, it's a shallow and cursory examination that is ultimately dropped in favor of a cute, fantasy-like romance between the brash Virginia and her sensitive French partner (Marc Tissot).
Aside from Moreau, there's no one here who delivers a memorable performance, and some of the acting is downright awful. Sean Young, feeding on her off-screen image, does a nice job as a caricature, but, when the script demands that Virginia show signs of character development, the actress runs into trouble. Josh Hamilton and Marc Tissot are flat. Sam Waterston, Nell Carter (as Adrienne's maid), and Austin Pendleton (as an eccentric European living in America and sporting a terrible accent) are unimpressive in small roles. Maybe the problem is that the actors were as confused by the script's treatment of their characters as we are.
This is the second consecutive disappointing effort from director Ismail Merchant (his debut, IN CUSTODY, was more cerebral, but not any better), indicating perhaps that he should stick to producing. And, combining his lack of success with the two most recent lackluster pictures (JEFFERSON IN PARIS, SURVIVING PICASSO) from his partner, James Ivory, the tarnish on the once-venerated name of Merchant-Ivory is beginning to show.
- James Berardinelli e-mail: berardin@bc.cybernex.net ReelViews web site: http://www.cybernex.net/~berardin
"We go away from our parents in youth and then we gradually come back to them; and in that moment, we have grown up." -- Ingmar Bergman
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