The Turning: Sort of Adapting Henry James

In gothic literature, serving as a governess is a more dangerous occupation than working as a coal-miner or a test pilot. Earnest young Kate would probably call herself a tutor, but close enough. Her new charges are quite a handful, as her predecessor could tell her, even though she’s dead. That should sound a lot like Turn of the Screw, but don’t blame Henry James for the weird deviations in Floria Sigismondi’s mid-1990s-set adaptation-in-spirit titled The Turning, which opens today nationwide.

Kate thinks she will be tutoring Flora, a six-year-old or so poor little rich orphan. So, she is surprised when she suddenly also has her entitled older brother Miles on her hands, after he is mysteriously expelled from his boarding school. The arrogant Miles ill-conceals his hostility for Kate. Flora maintains a sweet and cheerful façade, but there is still something a little off about her too. The ancient housekeeper Mrs. Grose is no help to her either. Nobody tells Kate much of anything, but she still discovers the previous tutor/nanny, Mrs. Jessel, disappeared under mysterious circumstances, most likely involving Peter Quint, a thuggish former servant, who is now also rather ominously deceased.

Right, that’s all very Turn of the Screw, until we reach the messiness of the third act. Screenwriters Carey W. Hayes and Chad Hayes do not just depart from the original James. They truly waste our time with one of the most annoying gimmicks they could dredge up.

On the plus side, Killruddery House is a wonderfully cinematic location doubling for Bly House. Sigimondi (an unlikely choice for Turning, given she is best known for directing music videos and The Runaways) has a keen eye for visuals and cinematographer David Ungaro (who has a good feel for the gothic, having also lensed Mary Shelley and Compulsion) gives it an appropriately atmospheric look.

Graf at Anthology: Twilight Eternal

For obvious reasons, art collections with iffy provenances acquired during the early to mid-Twentieth in Germany will arouse suspicions. Such is the case with the Magnus Dutt collection. The elderly eccentric is quite secretive regarding his holdings, but Philipp Keyser’s employers are convinced he has a rare painting only recorded in rumor and vague second-hand reports. They will retain him to acquire the painting, by hook or by crook, However, he will get more than he bargained for when he tries to get to Dutt through his artistically tempered niece in Dominik Graf’s Twilight Eternal (a.k.a. At the End of Time), which screens during the Graf retrospective at Anthology Film Archives.

Keyser is told acquiring the painting in question is a matter of justice for the firm’s client. He is not wildly concerned about such matters. For him, it is a potentially chance to return full time to the Grisham-sounding “firm.” The idea is to cozy up to his great-niece Alma, a defiantly unmarketable artist in her own right, who will then introduce him to the old man. Maybe she will and maybe she won’t. Regardless, she does not seem very put off when she learns their romance is based on mercenary motives. Their relationship might not be the healthiest, but on the other hand, these two could really be perfect for each other.

Eternal (or End of Time, or Am Abend Aller Tage) is another Graf TV movie that has garnered more than typical screenings and ancillary interest outside Germany. Most likely it is due to its wink-wink source material: the notorious case of the real-life Gurlitt Collection, as refracted through Henry James’ The Aspern Papers. It also happens to have some interesting things to say about the nature of art and its appreciation.

However, the presumed charms of Friedrrich Mucke’s Keyser are rather lost on this reviewer. Whereas Victoria Sordo’s Alma, the Miss Tina analog, is a far cry from a Plain Jane, she certainly has issues. They definitely have convincing sexual tension and dysfunctional (but still potent) chemistry together on-screen, Yet, Ernst Jacobi frequently steals the show as Dutt, whose connection to his collection runs deeper than mere investments.

Again, Graf helms with greater style than viewers usually expect from the term “TV movie.” It is more engaging intellectually than on an emotional level, but that is not necessarily a bad thing. Frankly, anyone intrigued by its literate but cynical take on the gallery business and of-the-moment contemporary art should see it during the Graf retrospective, because it probably will not be back around anytime soon. Recommended accordingly, Twilight Eternal screens today (5/25) and Wednesday (5/29), at Anthology Film Archives.

What Maisie Knew: Henry James Modernized & Sweetened

This must have been a hard pitch.  One would suspect Henry James’ novel of narcissistic, self absorbed parents of privilege would hit close to home for many decision-makers working in the movie business (studio or indie, it hardly matters anymore).  Yet somehow, the poor little rich girl will indeed wrestle with her parental issues in Scott McGehee & David Siegel’s What Maisie Knew (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Beale and Susanna are Maisie’s parents, if we can really use that word.  He is a dodgy art dealer and she is an over-the-hill rock star angling for a comeback.  Both are more interested in their careers than their daughter.  When they think of Maisie, it is mostly as a potential club to bludgeon each other with during their divorce proceedings.

Since he is able to present a more stable front, Beale wins considerable custody rights.  However, this is not all bad.  He is also taking her nanny Margo as his trophy wife.  She actually cares about Maisie, willingly giving her the time and attention she cannot get from her parents.  Meanwhile, Susanna marries the working class Lincoln, apparently to have a live-in sitter for Maisie. Like Margo, he quickly develops a paternal affection for his step-daughter that the ragingly insecure Susanna perversely resents. Hmm, does anybody see the potential building blocks of a more functional family unit in here somewhere?

Poor Mrs. Wix.  Maisie’s frumpy second nanny really gets the shaft from screenwriters Nancy Doyne and Carroll Cartwright’s adaptation.  While the James novel rebukes the shallow indulgence he considered endemic in society, McGehee and Siegel’s WMK seems to suggest blonds make better parents.  The proceedings are also marked by a heightened class consciousness, with the nanny and bartender showing superior character than Maisie’s privileged biological parents.

Regardless of what James might think of his novel modernized and transported to New York, McGehee and Siegel have an unbeatable trump card in their young lead.  As Maisie, Onata Aprile is completely unaffected and wholly engaging.  She covers a wide emotional spectrum, carrying the audience every step of the way. 

Likewise, Joanna Vanderham is charismatic and surprisingly vulnerable as Margo, while Alexander Skarsgård’s understated nice guy Lincoln is likable enough.  Julianne Moore labors valiantly to humanize the self-centered and psychologically erratic Susanna, but Steve Coogan is largely stuck playing a caricatured straw-man as the arrogant Beale.

Maisie’s cast and co-director definitely stack the deck, but at least they do it thoroughly and compellingly.  Viewers will absolutely care about the bright and precociously self-aware Maisie, which is the acid test for any film focused on a young protagonist. The upscale New York locations also add a dash of élan.  Anchored by several well turned performances, What Maisie Knew is surprisingly satisfying.  Recommended kind of affectionately for fans of literary melodrama, it opens this Friday (5/3) in New York at the Angelika Film Center.