Todd Haynes’ Mildred
Pierce is not a remake of the 1945 noir classic with Joan Crawford – and
people make a pointless mistake by comparing them; it’s a fresh adaptation of
James M. Cain’s original novel. At five
hours, the film is supposedly doggedly faithful to Cain; preserving nearly
every scene and much dialogue. Kate
Winslet give what I think is her best performance to date as the Depression-era
divorcee with a blind-spot when it comes to her spoiled and selfish daughter. But as an admirer of all of Haynes’ previous
films, my real interest in this film is how it fits into the director’s
filmography. The theme that I
consistently derive from his films is the pain of alienation; the lonely
feeling of disconnect from one’s environment and society. What makes Haynes’ films trustworthy – (if
that’s the right word) – is that he explores these issues without resorting to
the kind of schmaltz and lazy socially progressive platitudes that Oprah
Winfrey and Oscar voters seem to love so much.
The fear and awkwardness of being an existential outcast runs through Poison (1991), Safe (1995) and Velvet
Goldmine (1998), but the most obvious forebear of Mildred Pierce is certainly Far
From Heaven (2002), Haynes’ meticulous homage to the “women’s’ pictures” of
the 40s and 50s like those of Douglas Sirk; a genre that was arguably kicked
off by Michael Curtiz’ melodramatic 1945 version of Mildred Pierce. In Haynes’
film, we’re acutely aware of social injustice particularly with regard to the
status of women in America
in the 1930s, yet while this would be the final point in most directors’ films,
for Haynes it is merely the bottom layer that he builds upon. His Mildred is not a noble, longsuffering,
proto-feminist heroine; she is flawed, prone to irresponsible whims, and is
completely fixated on social standing. I
respect the lack of irony or camp in Haynes’ treatment of the material. He plays it straight the whole way, putting
his faith in the characters and Cain’s story.
No comments:
Post a Comment