Madame Bovary

rule 2 💘💘💘💘💘

luxury, calm and voluptuousness. the words of Baudelaire are the precise definition of film. because it is more than an ordinary adaptation but a precious gift, search of the soul of masterpiece by Flaubert and one of rare examples about the grace of image for recreate the atmosphere. the key - an inspired director and Mia Wasikowska who gives the impression, in few scenes , to be part of her character. than - Rhys Ifans in an admirable role. but the best thing remains the courage to redefine Emma Bovary like a clear , profound analysis of her gestures and words. to rediscover her in a special light, to understand her in different manner. the passion for novel - that is the secret ingredient for the success of Sophie Barthes work. and first step for a graceful show.

Madame Bovary The hardest part of cheating in the Victorian Era was removing all of your petticoats before you could screw. Fortunately, the unfaithful wife in this drama has plenty of time thanks to her husband's schedule. Married off to a small-town doctor Charles Bovary (Henry Lloyd-Hughes), adolescent Emma (Mia Wasikowska) is unsatisfied with her rural surroundings and her husband's absence. These doldrums quickly culminate in excessive spending and extramarital affairs with two separate lovers (Logan Marshall-Green, Ezra Miller). But when her affairs and increasing debt are exposed to her husband, Emma has no one but her past conquests to turn to for help. An acceptable adaptation of the controversial classic, this abridged version doesn't sacrifice the novel's numerous themes, or dumbs them down. Instead it cuts through the unnecessary exposition to create a concise account of this complicated character. Incidentally, Madame Bovary paved they way for future adulterers like Ashley Madison. Yellow Light vidiotreviews.blogspot.ca

Mia Wasikowska in this new, atmospheric film adaptation of "Madame Bovary" (a revolutionary classic) makes a fascinating, sensitive, and convincing Emma; one that resembles not so much previous Bovary's from previous films, but actually the complicated, twenty-something, anti- heroine of the novel, which I've long loved. To me she captures a lot of the paradoxes and ambiguous aspects of Emma, and manages to create empathy while making so many foolish, self-destructive choices. I've watched the film twice, and by the second viewing I got past the differences from the book (I know all the dialogue and scenes) and the gradual pace of the film, and got into the stillness that builds to the emotional release. I haven't really felt any movie has come close to capturing the book (which may be an impossible feat) but this one has it's own poetic perspective, mystique and beauty (without the irony of the novel) and Mia's portrayal has the enigmatic, haunting qualities that have made me a Bovary addict. Scenes of Emma running ornately clad through cow pastures vividly show her stranger-in-a-strange-land status (a peacock surrounded by peasantry). There were many references to her conflicted relationship to nature, including the hunt with the Marquis that I thought worked well, showing her, after the killing of the stag, seeking some power equal to men - in her case, she expressed it in her sexuality (through adultery), and conspicuous consumption; of course, this didn't work out too well. I think that in both the book and this film, Emma is seeking some measure of power, and of course love, but in a very unconscious way. The final, climactic scene was movingly done; it felt real to me. This version of "Madame Bovary" is quite haunting, with a sad beauty of its own. The cinematography and the costumes are simply gorgeous, but they're more than eye-candy, they are integrally connected to the emotional changes in Emma and the times in which she lived.

We saw this at the Toronto Film Festival in Sept. 2014. Sophie Barthes, the director, was there, and she was able to answer some questions. First, let me say I thought it was a great movie for three main reasons: First, the story itself. It was very straight forward, without side stories, without a bunch of equivocation and nuances. You didn't have to guess why characters did this or that, it was clear. Especially in a period piece, I think clarity of the story line is essential because you can't read current customs, etc. into it. So I think that was terrific. Second, the costumes and the village were perfect. I can't imagine either of these being improved. Third, the acting. Everyone played their part to perfection, and no one was over the top, which would have been easy to do. The marquis was haughty and aristocratic. Emma was bored, self-centered, and ambitious for her husband. Her husband was content to stay in his place in society. The cloth merchant/money lender was unctuous and unfeeling. All great stuff. But…One thing bothered me, and when I asked other people later what they thought of the movie, they all mentioned it. It was Mia's accent. Mia is Australian, with a nice Australian accent. But in this movie, she inexplicably assumes an American (!) accent. If all the other actors were Americans, this would make sense. But they were all British (except for Paul Giamatti in a small role--and even he attempted something of a British--or maybe a John Adams--accent). I think another person I talked to described it best: Mia's accent was "incongruous." It drew attention to her. At first I though this was deliberate--a way to make Mia/Emma stand out among all the townsfolk. But no…Sophie the director said they were aiming (if they were aiming for anything at all) at a "neutral" accent. If that was the aim, it didn't succeed. Everyone I talked to brought it up. Sophie's English is fine, although with a delightful French accent. She said she's lived 13 years in NY. But I suspect she might be tone deaf to the sound of various English accents. English is English, right? No, Sophie, it's not. Now my question is really for Mia: Surely she could have assumed a nice British accent more easily than an American one. And surely she realized she stood out among her British colleagues. So why didn't she speak up and say, "Hey, Sophie, talking like an American in a British movie seems weird. Don't you think I should have a British accent like everyone else?" And if you are asking yourself why a French director made an English-language version of a classic of French literature, Sophie had a very good answer: She felt Claude Chabrol's version c. 1990s with Isabelle Huppert was, if not definitive, so good that she didn't feel she wanted to be seen to be competing against it. Fair enough. But I think this new Madame Bovary could hold its own with any other version.

Not expecting too much from this movie I was hoping to be surprised. Well I was. It was worse than I thought. Boring storyline, which has been done to death with these types of period pieces. There was no real point to any of it really. Just a few romps in the sack, with some passing fantasies of M Bovary, and that was it really. In the main she was the totally frustrated and bored housewife, but not quite as much as I was just watching. Scenery and cinematography wasn't even enough to lift the spirits. Throughout the film I was expecting a sudden change of pace or a dynamic twist to ramp up the whole affair, but somehow it just meandered along at such a sluggish pace, I openly admit I did nod off, much to my wife's annoyance. I would gladly give this movie. big fat zero, but have to settle for a 1/10. Dreadful.

Cinema Scope Review By Jay Kuehner Renoir, Chabrol, Oliveira and Minnelli, among a host of others, have all taken a cinematic crack at Flaubert's realist chef d'oeuvre, but surprisingly, the young French director Sophie Barthes—for whom the book is part of an inherited cultural DNA—is the first woman to adapt the original "modern realist" novel, and not for nothing. Barthes exhumes the intrinsically proto-feminist appeal of Emma B's solutions to the stifling inertia of a sensually enervating marriage (o a reputable doctor who attends to all bodies but hers. As channelled through Mia Wasikowska's ambiguous embodiment, Barthes' Emma is both reluctant and unrepentant in her adulterous affairs. It's a sympathetic rather than critical treatment, but none the less cautionary for conflating Emma's self- actualization with her further disillusionment and inevitable entrapment. Such is the lasting value of Flaubert's precision in describing the eternally imprecise condition of longing. Barthes' points of departure condense Emma's circumscribed habitat, both material and temporal: her exquisite attempts to dress the part effectively colour-code her erotic life (while sinking her into debt with a dandy creditor gamely named L'Heureux), as time bears down crushingly (Emma seizes in vain the metronomic dread of the grandfather clock). Tonally, the naturalistic look and not too-affected delivery create a bristling modern vibe that's not willfully anachronistic (no Converse sneakers for Emma). Most crucially and delectably, it is language—Flaubert's mots précises—that sways with seductive power and portent, which Barthes taps for all its symbolic suggestion. Indeed, the vicissitudes of desire leave even the most ardent romantics sniffing for orange blossoms beneath an apple tree. Perpetually pleasant-looking, the film—like Emma—revels in appearances but is about feeling unpleasant, even after the corset is unbound. Bovary, c'est nous.

I like the film. Finally there exists a version done by a woman showing with sensibility the few choices of life for women in the 19th century. I thought the actors and actresses were perfect in their role. In the end, Madame Bovary finds herself without friends and solutions. She understands how naive she has been with men and has no woman friend. Her whole world has collapsed. She can only choose nature as her ultimate friend. I feel that in this version, Flaubert's book main message is being respected. It is mostly about a woman wanting to experience all the pleasures of life and not being able to do it. Because of herself as well as because of her environment.

Yet again we have an incarnation of Flaubert's novel of infidelity and this time the transformation of the book to screen (by Felipe Marino and director Sophie Barthes) is, at best, weak. The pacing of the film is adagio and the cast is adequate if unremarkable. The only standout in the film is the costumer and the strange but adequately atmospheric music by Evgueni and Sacha Galperine. For those who have forgotten the story, 'In mid-1800s Normandy, France, farmer's daughter Emma (Mia Wasikowska) leaves the convent where she was educated and marries a young doctor, Charles Bovary (Henry Lloyd-Hughes). With high hopes for a fulfilling and romantic future like the ones she reads about in novels, Emma leaves her childhood home and loving father, moving to the small town of Yonville where Charles has based his practice. While Charles loves his new wife, he is consumed by his work and is out of the house all day visiting patients. During their brief daily time together, Emma is bored and repulsed by his talk of ailments and dull business affairs, and Charles is all but oblivious to her ennui. With no regular company besides their maid, Henriette (Laura Carmichael), Emma becomes a vulnerable client to the crafty local merchant Lheureux (Rhys Ifans), who entices her with luxury goods available for purchase on credit. Emma soon befriends a young clerk, Leon Dupuis (Ezra Miller), who shares her romantic frame of mind and disdain for provincial Yonville. Emma longs to go to Paris and immerse herself in the culture, and has quickly tired of her dull existence as a country doctor's wife. Leon secretly confesses his love to Emma, who, despite the mutual attraction, dismisses his advances. Leon departs for law studies in Paris. Charles and Emma are invited to a hunting party by the Marquis d'Andervilliers (Logan Marshall- Green), who had dropped by Doctor Bovary's house to have one of his servants treated. The Marquis was immediately attracted to Emma, who becomes so excited about the excursion into high society that she orders expensive clothes from Lheureux for the occasion. At the party, she is entranced by the luxury of the upper-class and by the subtle advances of the Marquis, whom she meets once more at an agricultural show. Emma's thirst for extravagance only grows, and she begins to spend liberally to beautify the house and her wardrobe, all on credit from Lheureux. She also takes the advice of local pharmacist Homais (Paul Giamatti) and convinces her husband to operate on the club-foot of Homais' servant Hippolyte (Luke Tittensor) and become a celebrated surgeon. The surgery fails. Ashamed of her husband's incompetence and feeling all the more stifled, Emma visits the Marquis at his home and confesses her misery. They begin an affair, with Emma making regular trips on foot through the woods to visit him. Charles has no inkling of his wife's unhappiness in the marriage or of her affair. Emma eventually begs the Marquis to run away with her, and though he initially refuses, he calms her by promising to make arrangements to elope.' And to tell the rest would be consider spoilers. Mediocre at best this is a very long song that could have been so much better in so many ways.

By Jay Kuehner - In Cinema Scope Online, TIFF 2014 Renoir, Chabrol, Oliveira and Minnelli, among a host of others, have all taken a cinematic crack at Flaubert's realist chef d'oeuvre, but surprisingly, the young French director Sophie Barthes—for whom the book is part of an inherited cultural DNA—is the first woman to adapt the original "modern realist" novel, and not for nothing. Barthes exhumes the intrinsically proto-feminist appeal of Emma B's solutions to the stifling inertia of a sensually enervating marriage (o a reputable doctor who attends to all bodies but hers. As channelled through Mia Wasikowska's ambiguous embodiment, Barthes' Emma is both reluctant and unrepentant in her adulterous affairs. It's a sympathetic rather than critical treatment, but none the less cautionary for conflating Emma's self- actualization with her further disillusionment and inevitable entrapment. Such is the lasting value of Flaubert's precision in describing the eternally imprecise condition of longing. Barthes' points of departure condense Emma's circumscribed habitat, both material and temporal: her exquisite attempts to dress the part effectively colour-code her erotic life (while sinking her into debt with a dandy creditor gamely named L'Heureux), as time bears down crushingly (Emma seizes in vain the metronomic dread of the grandfather clock). Tonally, the naturalistic look and not too-affected delivery create a bristling modern vibe that's not willfully anachronistic (no Converse sneakers for Emma). Most crucially and delectably, it is language—Flaubert's mots précises—that sways with seductive power and portent, which Barthes taps for all its symbolic suggestion. Indeed, the vicissitudes of desire leave even the most ardent romantics sniffing for orange blossoms beneath an apple tree. Perpetually pleasant-looking, the film—like Emma—revels in appearances but is about feeling unpleasant, even after the corset is unbound. Bovary, c'est nous.