The Painted Veil--a review

This movie is one of the most underrated of last year. Not to say that it was anywhere close to being one of the best, but it was unjustifiably steamrolled when it came out—even more so than art films usually are. It got no critical acclaim, no one I knew saw it, it seemed to leave the theaters instantly, and I’m positive that it bombed—hard (which is too bad for Edward Norton, since he apparently spent six years trying to produce the thing). Even though I was initially interested because my favorite actor at the time (Liev Schreiber) was in it, it seemed like such a drab piece—one of those tedious “stodgy English people roughing it in the colonies” crap that every single English novelist from 1900-1920 was so damn fond of writing (viz. A Passage to India), that even I didn’t bother.

But when I got a free DVD copy of it, I figured I’d pop it in and catch the Liev Schreiber scenes that I’d forgone and then chuck the rest. But by the time his scenes were over, I was hooked into the whole thing.

The beginning especially gives away (or unfairly suggests) the awkward amteurishness of the film—even down to the nonsensical, artsy-fartsy opening credit sequence. And then the all-too-short scenes of the choppy exposition reveal an inadept adapter—one who was clearly trying to stuff as much of the admittedly complicated set-up into the requisite 30 minutes, but sacrificed the usual mode of satisfying and engrossing dramatic development in the process.

The directing, too, is awkward, slow, and self-indulgent, which doesn’t exactly help counter the already slow and self-indulgent genre and plot. He’s constantly gloomily panning over beautiful landscapes, over Naomi Watts—even over shoes, which get about eight gratuitous “meaningful” shots.

*SPOILERS*

However, if you can get through all that—and now I’m basically saying that the original novel (by W. Somerset Maugham) gets the credit for any merit this movie may have—the movie promises the most impossible feat I’d ever heard of...and then pulls it off. It presents two incredibly unlikeable, mean, nasty, shallow, overly rigid, over-priveledged people brought together in a marriage solely based on, for the guy, sexual attraction and, for the girl, money, who absolutely hate each other—and then hints that they'll come to love each other.

Now, I knew that this was the concept of the movie even before I watched it, and actually was one of the reasons why I didn’t bother with it, since it seemed obnoxiously sappy, but the set-up made their coming together SO IMPOSSIBLE that I had to see how they’d pull it off. See, this ain’t no Beatrice-Benedick, Mr. Darcy-Lizzie Bennett thing where they seem to hate each other and exchange witty barbs, but you know they really love each other underneath it all. No, no: they hate each other in such a way that YOU would hate them, too. Norton’s character deliberately puts Watts’s character in a situation where she will most likely be KILLED (he forces her come with him into the middle of a cholera epidemic without even inoculating her)—effectively attempting to murder her—out of revenge for her fucking around on him with Liev Schreiber. I’m sorry, but someone trying to KILL me would be kind of a deal-breaker; I don’t care how awesome they are later. So not even the AUDIENCE doesn't want them to get together: when Watts starts approaching Norton to broach the wall of silence he’s maintained, it isn’t sweet—it’s cringe-inducing.

Nor does it quite go the way of Taming of the Shrew, V for Vendetta, or Crazy Love (the documentary that came out this year about a guy who throws lye in this girl’s face because she doesn’t love him back and she ends up marrying him). All of those films are about a sadistic guy who brainwashes a girl into a Stockholm Syndrome-induced love, whereas at least in The Painted Veil, the worst you could say is that both the guy and the girl are brainwashed. But brainwashed isn’t even right—it’s more of a fascinating, complex character study about what situation people who hate each other would have to be in in order for that hate to turn into love. And instead of coming off as far-fetched or sappy, it comes off as merely realistic—and even makes the characters likeable in the process—in one of the most death-defying acts by a writer I’ve ever witnessed.

I guess, in a way, this just means you should read the book unless you happen to be obsessed with Naomi Watts, Edward Norton, or Liev Schreiber, but as far as movies go, this one isn’t so bad, which I was shocked to discover. When a movie is so quickly overlooked, one usually assumes—and, usually, correctly assumes—that it sucks—hard—but this one really didn’t. It occurs to me that the reason it may have failed so badly was the marketing. I mean, look at that poster. Schmaltzy as hell!!! With no indication of the fire and brimstone contained therein. As far as the poster's concerned, this is a movie about a couple on their like, freakin second honeymoon giving each other flowers and chocolate all day long! Don't marketing professionals get the same thing screenwriters and directors get: that it's all about the conflict?? The only thing I can guess is that they did focus groups with women in their 40's and 50's--CLEARLY the demographic this film was made to pander to--and they just loved loved loved that magical little poster of the cute couple on the freakin gondola. Ugh.

The title, too, with respect to W. Somerset Maugham, is awful as hell. I mean, The Painted Veil??? What does that even mean? What does that even have to do with the plot at all? Like, there's a veil between these two people?? That ain't no veil; that's a huge freakin brick wall!!! Another movie was actually made of the book in the 50's (that's apparently horrible) that must have realized this and did change the title, but the The Seventh Sin, which, while perhaps more marketable, is just plain misleading. The most accurate title for this movie would be something like "Two Bitches who Bitch at Each Other but Then Actually End Up Getting Along." Oh yeah. I can see that $50 million opening weekend now.

Again, it wasn’t great, but it was good. It was pleasurable and engaging, which is more than I can say of most of the tent-poles of this summer, proving yet again that I am not only a girl, but really freakin out of touch with the majority of the movie-going audience.