White Oleander (2002)
Children are like blank pages. They
are written upon by the adults around them and, suddenly,
somehow, out of this, a personality is born. This
seems to be one of the main messages behind "White
Oleander," a film based on a novel. The book was one
of those Oprah Book Club thingees too. Watching the
film, one gets the feeling that the book is probably
pretty damn interesting. The film is as well, but
seems to point out to a need to read the book first.
One of my favorite books of all
time (after every Vonnegut book, of course) is Russell
Banks' "Rule of the Bone." This is a weighty and expansive
novel as well. I've always wanted someone to make
it into a movie. After seeing "White Oleander," I
believe it would be impossible to ever make it into
a film as satisfying as the novel. Although I have
not read "White Oleander," I imagine the same is true
of it. Watching this film, I really wished I'd read
the novel beforehand.
The main character here is Astrid,
a sort of "Zelig" like teenager who seems to adapt
to whomever she is around. She begins, in the story,
with her mother, but through a particular plot point,
she ends up in a series of Foster homes where she
is taken in by, and adapts to resemble, a trailer-trash
Jesus freak with a drinking problem and abandonment
issues; an lonely actress; and a Russian, punk immigrant
who sells thrift store clothes for a capitalist's
profit. Also, along the way, she spends some time
in a Youth facility, a sort of teenage prison, where
she becomes a tough and hooks up with a cute boy.
Someone who has read the book described
it is interesting in the way that it seemed like a
series of short stories all involving the same character.
That is somewhat transferred to the film here as Astrid
seems to take part in several short films where she
looks different and adapts to her surroundings. This
idea is done quite well.
The acting in the film is quite
nice with Alison Lohman of TV's "Pasadena" quite adept
at presenting the different phases of Astrid's adaptation
and development. We like her character and care about
her. We see many of the pitfalls of what is happening
to her as easily as she seems to. Her chemistry with
all the other actors in the film is quite nice as
well. Also of note is Rene Zellweger who performs
a character a bit older than we've seen her present
before. A wonderful moment in the film comes when
Zellweger, who plays a fictional actress in the film,
shows Astrid a clip from one of her old movies. Zellweger's
work in "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is used. It's funny.
A plethora of well-know stars appear
in the film as well. Cole Hauser, Billy Connolly,
Amy Aquino, Robin Wright Penn, and Noah Wiley to name
but a few. But, of course, my favorite was Patrick
Fugit of "Almost Famous." Not only is Fugit a talented
thespian who truly deserves as much acting work as
he can get, he's also as cute as a button. He looks
a couple of years older here than he did in "Famous"
but he's still just wicked adorable. Maybe I'm gay,
he he, but there is a scene where he smiles at Lohman
close to the end of the film and that smile says everything
you need to know about that character at that moment
in the film. It is one of those wordless, crystalized
moments in cinematic time that says everything about
everything right then, right there. Wow.
If there is any problem with the
acting in the film, it lies in the face of Michelle
Pfeiffer. She never is able to escape her beautiful
yet seemingly bleached white facade (reminiscent of
the white Oleanders in her yard) here and truly become
the character. Sure, she plays against type and does
a pretty good job, that's true. But every time she
pops up in the film it simply reminds us that it's
Michelle Pfeiffer in a film and not a real person.
Her beauty is a part of her character in the film
yet calling attention to her beauty only hurts this
film. Also, we never buy her as a tough woman able
to sustain life in her desperate situation. Or at
least I never did.
"White Oleander" is a nice little
weepie. Chicks will cry. My young, female companion
at the screening of the film did. I didn't and I've
been known to bawl on occasion. Often Mary Agnes Donoghue's
script, based on Janet Fitch's novel, seems manipulative
and contrived, as if it is hoping exactly for tears.
Peter Kominsky's direction is sensitive (although
not overtly so) and evocative of such a notion as
well. But you can't "make" me cry. I have to want
to. I could never identify with the film enough to
cry about it all. Astrid seems pretty tough and the
misery she endures never seems all that devastating
to me. And often the film seemed more like a theatrical
release of a "Lifetime Original" than a real film.
Note:
There's lots of female empowerment
pop songs on the soundtrack.
