Dangerous
Beauty (1998)
This film is supposedly based on a true story. My
response to that is: unmitigated hogwash. "The Honest
Courtesan," the book upon which this film is based,
has been around since 1992 and I have no doubt there
is historical fact to support this supposed verisimilitude,
but in the hands of scripter Jeannine Dominy and Director
Marshall Herskovitz, it still seems highly improbable
and, eventually, it comes across as pure Hollywood hokum.
The film is about a young couple, or supposed young
couple, in Venice circa the late 1500's. Since he is
wealthy and she is not (yawn) they cannot marry and
he spurns her for his duty to family and "Venice." He
marries another. She sulks for a bit before an amazing
turn of events in her life takes place.
Venice in this setting is presented as some sort of
parable for modernity with men in position of power
and women as ineffectual homebodies. The female in this
star-crossed couple (Catherine McCormack) disenheartened
from her loss at love, is soon schooled by her mother
(Jacqueline Bissett) on the true ways of the class system
in Venice and how she can obtain all she desires (except
love, of course,) as a courtesan, a polite way of saying
a "whore." Here the film begins to come across as highbrow
softcore porn. It might be interesting and even amusing
(which is how it is presented) if the idea of a mother
teaching her daughter how to be a high-class prostitute
wasn't so disquieting.
Of course, once a courtesan, the female lead travels
in important circles and it isn't long before she meets
up with her ex-beloved. And for a long bit, the film
is quite interesting, enjoyable even. But towards the
end, the plot gets into international politics, a war
with the Turks, the plague and then, worst of all, the
Inquisition before we can even figure out all the intricacies
of the story. Finally, we are given a rousing bit of
Hollywood heroics that amount to little more than balderdash
and some quick epilogue information and sent on our
way.
A lot of the problems with the film are easy to forgive
with McCormack in the lead role. She is amusing, intriguing,
engaging, and full of life. It is a constant joy to
see her going through the plot even in it's most smarmy
moments. Her smile is infectious and she plays the role
with the required amounts of innocence, intelligence,
superiority and indignation, in that order. She carries
this colossal cinematic monstrosity on her shoulder
with grace. And she is easy on the eyes to boot.
Conversely, the men in the film are awful. Although
many, like Jeroen Krabbe and many other nameless actors
in smaller roles are simply butt-ugly, the rest are
atrocious in their roles. Oliver Platt seems totally
out of place as a poet (which is supposed to sort of
be the point) and his character's surprise twist later
in the film comes across as more scriptwriter's contrivance
then believable scenario. But the killer of them all
is Rufus Sewell, who exudes all the sexuality of his
surname. Sewell believes he can express any emotion
(innocence, wonder, anger, lust) simply by opening up
his green eyes as wide as possible. He creates as much
sexual tension as a corpse. Sewell is dangerously out
of his league against McCormack and can no more be romantic
or dashing as he can be heroic or indignant or self-righteous.
He may be aided by Herskovitz's inability to create
any sort of mood or reality, but it is Sewell's incapacity
to even "act" for a single frame in the film that truly
perturbs. Worse yet, his character's name is Marco so
that when anyone on screen calls out his name, "Marco,"
one's immediate response is to yell back "Polo!"
For a long time I have felt that John Lithgow and
Billy Zane were the very worst actors of this decade,
but Lithgow is hilarious on his TV show and Zane is
at least capable of playing a smug creep (see "Titanic").
Sewell seems incapable of emoting even the slightest
whiff of a feeling or meaning in a line of dialogue.
It's devastating to this film. And it furthers the case
against him to make him an actor to avoid at all costs.
Herskovitz has had a lot of experience with angst
and introspection and pretension with his highly popular
(and rightly so) TV show "My So-called Life" but here
he can create none of these feelings. The magnitude
of the story and the timeframe of the setting seem to
overpower him and he is left limp in their wake. His
Venice looks all too much like a brochure for a Hollywood
matte lab. Even his shots of the actual canals of Venice
do not look real. (Reality becomes unreal in his hands).
His is truly saved here only by his casting of McCormack,
who makes the film tolerable at best.
"Dangerous Beauty" should be an awesome film. It's
subject matter, it's time frame and it's setting contain
elements ready-made for an epic. But the director can
neither create the lavish opulence of the era nor the
sexual tension of the plot to make the piece work. It
stands only as a curiosity piece. Interesting only for
what sly sexuality (for it's timeframe) that Herskovitz
can eek out of the script and McCormack's wonderful
performance. Everything else simply evokes disbelief,
irritation or both.
Notes:
Also with Moira Kelly, Joanna Cassidy, and Jake Weber
(as King Henry).
Based on the book by Margaret Rosenthal. Gabriella
Pescucci did the costumes and Edward Zwick (who also
worked on "My So-called Life") produced.
Score is by George Fenton. (Rachael Portman wrote
a score which was rejected)
Filmed in Rome and Venice.
At times the film was to be called either "Courtesan,"
"The Honest Courtesan," or "Venice."
Review written in 1998
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