It's hard to believe that Liam Neeson is the problem with this film, but that's exactly the truth. Neeson, who is forced to play an artist who acts like a caveman, is the linchpin in the problem with this film. We are forced to believe that this distinguished sculptor (his retrospective announcement is framed and hangs on his wall - how many artists are really that shallow?) is a loving, yet misguided family man. Neeson doesn't seem to realize that his character is a walking anomaly and emotes dramatically throughout the piece. Eventually our ability to accept this character for what he is supposed to be is taxed to it's limit. We don't accept his actions from the plot's beginning and we come to suspect his ideals as well. Of course, Neeson is just doing his job and his job is to bring the poor script to the screen. But Neeson can be considered a failure in relation to his peers because they work through the material more ably than he.

For example, Meryl Streep is given the credible character here; One who believes in the truth. As a doctor, we expect her to want the truth to come out but as a parent we know she will demand it. Neeson's character isn't so lucky. Streep, who is allowed to carry the film during it's climactic moments, eventually gets subdued by the plot as well. But Streep only succumbs to the material when no other option has been left untapped. Her character still rings true. Streep's acting ability carries her well beyond the limitations of the made-for-TV-drama-like plot she is cast into.

Edward Furlong, who plays their son, is the only actor in the film who truly succeeds. Furlong is masterful here, able to waver between enigmatic coldness and emotion-filled sorrow as easily as a fan oscillates. In fact, it may be the best performance he has ever given. Furlong totally moves us here. We like him and we want him to work out his problems. He has help from his director, Barbet Schroeder as well. Schroeder allows him a brilliant scene where Furlong finally breaks from his coldness in private. Silent, the scene is emotionally heartbreaking. Furlong is also allowed huge close-up shots to allow us to delve into his character. he totally dominates any scene he is in, first with his eerie austerity and later with his striking realism. Furlong is this character. But alas, he is stuck in this mess of a plot. He is almost able to save it several times throughout the film and yet the plot insists on defeating him at every turn.

Other actors in smaller roles may try, but even they cannot help. Alfred Molina ("Prick Up Your Ears") gives another great performance here. But his character becomes secondary and therefore one tends to dismiss his work. Worse yet, the script has him deliver a hurtful line at the climax (it's supposed to be the kicker) that seems totally out of character. Molina does some standout work when his character is first introduced but the film doesn't want to concentrate on him. It's a shame too because the piece might work if he were the primary character. Meanwhile, the second worst actor in the piece is Julia Weldon who plays the daughter of the principles, and Furlong's sister. This little girl can't act worth as dang. She ruins every scene she is in. She is only bearable when Furlong shines so brightly beside her that he blanks out her poor technique. Weldon may one day rise above this work but her character, like the rest here, is totally out of sync. Weldon signifies exactly what is wrong with the piece. As the youngest, presumably most inexperienced actress, she tries to work around the script but her inability to depict the fluctuating nature of her character sticks out like a Chris Farley in a Bergman film. And, in the film's most irritating moments, John Heard and Ann Magnuson are forced to turn small roles into window dressing. Why Heard is even in the film (as an actor or a character) is a mystery.

Producer/Director Schroeder has been known to bring a taut edginess to film before, particularly with "Single White Female." But when "Before and After" begins with voice-over narration that evokes his dismal "Reversal of Fortune," you have a intuition that the film may fail. Instead of hearing the disembodied voice of Glenn Close intone "This is my body," like a humdrum ghost, we are forced to listen to Weldon explain how things can change "before and after" an event in your life. It's like things are different before then they are after, or something like that. Y'know, one minute it's before and then, like, after, it's different or something? Weldon rambles on about this pubescent insight for what seems like eons before Schroeder finally gets into the plot. Within 5 minutes our fate is sealed.

Schroeder never pulls any strings here. He simply lets the story unfold. But he has such a poor script, by Ted Tally, to guide him, that this simply isn't enough to form the film around. Schroeder also totally miscasts the role of Ben, the artist, then he allows Neeson to do as he pleases. He never hems in any of his actors. This works well with Furlong but is disastrous with most of the others.

"Before and After" is based on a book by Rosellen Brown. It may be a taut melodrama on paper but it doesn't transfer well to film. Tally's adaptation can't encompass the philosophical implications of the piece either. This film is supposed to be about the American system of justice and how the truth gets lost in the interdynamic workings of an upper- middle class family when they confront this system, or, at least, their notion of this system. "Before and After" could make a valid statement about this topic. It could be a riveting drama about the struggle of a family to remain intact when faced with a harsh reality. Instead, much like the legal system of justice it claims to depict, it comes across as a word play that, oft times, just doesn't jibe.

Note: Director of Photography is Luciano Tovoli. Music by Howard Shore.

Shot in Lee, Massachusetts. Streep commuted to her home in nearby Connecticut.

Brown is from Houston, Texas.

Review written in 1996

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