Peter O'Toole as Maurice and Jodie Whittaker as Jessie in "Venus."

Movie Reviews

By: David Coley

Posted: 2/5/07

In Theaters

'Venus'

He's in his 70s. She's in her 20s.

Not exactly a match made in heaven.

Yet Maurice and Jessie form the unlikely couple at the center of "Venus," a British film directed by Roger Michell. This is not a feel-good romance, nor a twisted tale of carnal obsession. The film exists somewhere in the middle of those two extremes, and its wavering is ultimately its weakness.

Maurice, played by screen legend Peter O'Toole, is an aging actor who is relegated to small parts in small movies, even playing a corpse in one scene. He meets regularly with his other elderly friends, including Ian (Leslie Phillips), who is suffering great pain and agony at the hands of his grandniece Jessie (Jodie Whittaker). Upon meeting her, Maurice is smitten, and they start to spend time with each other. Their friendship grows, but Maurice wishes that it could be something more.

The bulk of the film is a series of meetings between the two. Eventually, Jessie's youthful actions start to hurt Maurice, as he confides his feelings to his friend Valerie (Vanessa Redgrave). All the while, his friends feel alienated as he spends more and more time with Jessie, and their relationship takes twists and turns toward its inevitable conclusion.

The distinctive part of the film is, of course, the relationship between Maurice and Jessie. Indeed, it is a hard relationship to imagine, and the film has a hard time pinning down what exactly it entails. It is not an inspiring eccentric relationship, a la "Harold and Maude." Maurice makes sexual references and clearly expresses such intentions. However, there is a platonic level of attraction, manifested in his nickname for her, "Venus."

The film flips back and forth between the two levels of the relationship, and in some ways it reveals the complexity of such a pairing. However, the filmmaking style also switches back and forth, and this unevenness is frustrating. As Maurice's life is interrupted by youthful bursts from Jessie, the quiet thoughtfulness is often interrupted by flashy camerawork or a loud sappy pop tune.

The movie's strength lies in O'Toole's performance. He is once again nominated at this year's Academy Awards - his eighth nomination with no wins. He did win an honorary Oscar last year but almost refused it, saying he is still in the game and did not want to be out of the running for a competitive award. This movie proves that he's still got it, bringing the right amount of pathos to a potentially disturbing role.

The other performances range in their quality. Redgrave is good as usual, as are Phillips and Richard Griffiths as Maurice's friends. Whittaker has moments of inspiration, but at times she is a bit of a one-note. As good as some may be though, it is O'Toole's show, and the film's focus does not waver in that regard.

The part of Maurice's life depicted here is one of sadness with brief glimpses of humor. The characters are the same way, switching from kindness to cruelty. In order for the film to charm us, the film could have used more of the kindness. The cruelty makes a point, but it is not enough to make a profound connection.

In Theaters

'Pan's Labyrinth'

Everyone heard fairytales when they were young.

There is a centuries-old tradition of fantastical tales of heroes and magic. In the real versions of the stories, not the candy-coated Disney versions, there is usually an element of violence, involving eyes being pecked out or other bloody ends. It is this darkness that most heavily populates the world of "Pan's Labyrinth," a modern, mature fairytale from director Guillermo Del Toro.

There is magic and a heroine and exotic settings, but instead of dragons and unicorns there is a twisted leafy faun and a sagging withered man with eyeballs in his palms. The images are from the darker parts of our minds, spawning more fear and suspense than joy and happiness. Del Toro is concerned with the traumatic parts of childhood, and the impressions a world of violence can leave.

That is not to say it is not beautiful. The imagination displayed here is astounding, providing a mature audience with imagery that is foreboding, thought-provoking, and escapist all at the same time. That is because the world springs from a historical period that gives the visuals their poignancy.

That historical period is the Fascist period of Spain, focusing on the 1930s. The setting is a small mountain outpost where a Fascist captain and his men are battling the freedom fighters hiding in the surrounding forests and mountains. The captain's pregnant wife and stepdaughter arrive at the outpost. The stepdaughter is our heroine Ofelia (Ivana Baquero).

The little girl has a large imagination, and she uses it to get past her violent surroundings. She is aware of the cruelty of the captain (Sergi Lopez), but her mother will not question his decision because of her desire for the both of them to be safe. Also involved is the sister of one of the freedom fighters, Mercedes (Maribel Verdu), who helps Ofelia make the most of her time at the outpost.

Her flights of fantasy revolve around a mythical kingdom and its ruler who lost his daughter ages ago. She is revealed as that daughter, but in order for her to be reunited with the king, she has to perform three tasks delegated to her by the faun. These take her from a forest maze to a withered tree and through a door drawn in the wall with magic chalk. They put her in much more danger than the average fairytale would.

That fantastical danger is juxtaposed with the bloody violent trials going on in real life. Many of the Fascist forces and freedom fighters meet gory ends. Torture and executions abound. The duality of the danger contains Del Toro's commentaries on violence, evil, freedom and war. It is rare to see a film as rich as this in both meaning and imagery.

All of this is played beautifully by the actors - there is not a single weak performance. Like a true fairytale, it has the ability to take an imagined world and tell us something about ourselves.

dcoley@unews.com