Far From Heaven (2002)

I'm genuinely disappointed that Todd Haynes' Far From Heaven left me underwhelmed. For a picture bursting with with this much colour, texture, performance and some truly breathtaking music, it's a bit of disconnect that I simply couldn't get involved with the story. Sort of an arthouse dilemna, I suppose.

To be honest, I'm not entirely surprised by my reaction. I initially avoided Far From Heaven in theatres even when critics were falling over themselves to call it one of the best films of the year. A sensation at the Toronto Festival. Multiple Academy Award nominations. All of this failed to light me up, in part because I saw only a Julianne Moore housewife arthouse film and couldn't see any spark to the equation. Alas, the time finally came to see it this week and as ever, I threw my expectations out the window and looked for the promise of an original, great, engaging little number.

From the opening minutes of the film, I was very optimistic. The rich autumn colours and vivid scenery were one thing, but that Elmer Bernstein score? Sweet Jesus, that's another. There aren't a lot of film soundtracks that fill the frame quite as completely as this one and the late Elmer Bernstein is a legend. Everything in those opening minutes reminded me of Scorsese's Age of Innocence, an underappreciated masterpiece in its own right: Bernstein's palatial score, the florid photography, sumptuous period detail. Nothing would have please me more if the movie could have delivered this promise.

Julianne Moore is, of course, completely excellent in the film, as are Dennis Quaid and Dennis Haysbert in their respective roles. Moore in particular hits all of the right notes as the 1950's archetypal wife never overplaying the sing-song breathiness and selling lines like "Jeepers!" with real dexterity (not easy to do). She looks the part and seems to float through the rituals of the suburban lifestyle like a Tupperware Queen.

Though the plot mostly failed to light me up, the scenes shared by Moore and Haysbert were an exception. These sequences were warm and convincing as two people who might as well be from different planets share conversation and discover the things they have in common. It's at this point in the movie that Far From Heaven feels more like a humanistic drama about two people finding connection than an arthouse exercise.

Really? I should have loved this movie. On paper, it's tough to argue that there is anything missing from the movie. But yet, there is. Cool. Empty. Precious. This is the sort of film that looks and feels absolutely great but which provides empty arthouse calories. I could see the tension on-screen, feel the repression and anxiety in the story, see the anguish throughout the melodrama...yet somehow I failed to really care.