Michael Reuben
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Studio: Sony Pictures Classics
Rated: PG-13
Film Length: 96 minutes
Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1
HD Encoding: 1080p
HD Codec: AVC
Audio: English, German, Portuguese Dolby TrueHD 5.1; Spanish DD 5.1
Subtitles: English; English SDH; Spanish; Portuguese; German; Turkish
MSRP: $39.95
Disc Format: 1 50GB
Package: Keepcase
Theatrical Release Date: May 22, 2009
Blu-ray Release Date: Sept. 15, 2009
Introduction:
I didn’t take Jessica Biel seriously for a long time, but with Easy Virtue she demonstrates that she’s both a genuine actress and a movie star, pulling off screwball comedy, emotional drama, singing, dancing and holding her own against the likes of Kristin Scott Thomas and Colin Firth in a period film. It helps that she’s playing the American interloper unsettling a stuffy British family, and it helps even more that the whole enterprise is being directed by that mad Aussie, Stephan Elliott, returning to the director’s chair nearly ten years after his disastrous efforts to follow up the success of The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert drove him from the film business. (Anyone remember Ashley Judd and Ewan McGregor in Eye of the Beholder? I didn’t think so.)
This time out, Elliott and his writing partner, Sheridan Jobbins, chose an early play by the great English actor, writer, director and wit Noel Coward, whose mature work is still a staple of repertory theaters. Then, under the guidance of their producers at that British institution of cinema, Ealing Studios, they set about reinventing their source until, by their own account, the finished product was about 30% Coward and the rest their own creation. The result was a period film for people who think period films are boring, which is how Elliott persuaded Thomas and Firth to take on the kind of roles that initially sounded like same-old, same-old, but turned out not to be. How many other films set in the 1928 English countryside feature the 1999 song “Sex Bomb” on the soundtrack? (Trust me – it works.)
The Feature:
The Whittaker family lives in a huge house (which, in typical English fashion, they call a “cottage”) on a farm in the English countryside. Mrs. Whittaker (Kristin Scott Thomas) runs the show with an iron hand. Mr. Whittaker (Colin Firth) is a veteran of what was then known as “The Great War” and considers himself part of the Lost Generation; he keeps to himself, except for the occasional sardonic remark, usually as his wife’s expense. The two daughters, Hilda and Marion (Kimberly Nixon and Katherine Parkinson), spend their days reading newspapers and fantasizing over unlikely romantic prospects. All of the family’s hopes rest on the son, John (Ben Barnes, best known as Prince Caspian in the Narnia films).
Then John shocks everyone by writing to announce that he’s gotten married. He shocks them even more by arriving shortly after the telegram with his bride, Larita (Jessica Biel), a platinum-haired flapper. When Larita greets her new mother-in-law, the first words she hears are: “Oh you’re American” – and Kristin Scott Thomas manages that remarkable British trick of conveying with three quiet words every expletive that can possibly be uttered in the English language.
As if being an American weren’t bad enough, Larita is also a race car driver recently famous for having won the Grand Prix and then being disqualified because she’s a woman. Indeed, one of the many funny bits that fly by (the film is played at a breathless pace) is the contrast between the Whittaker girls’ reaction when they’re reading about Larita in the papers as opposed to having her as (horrors!) a member of the family. The only member of the household who appears to take to her immediately is Furber, the butler (Kris Marshall from Love, Actually, immediately joining the ranks of great comic English butlers). Furber says very little, but like most English butlers, he’s seen his employers at close range for years. His expression when they’re not looking (but we are) says more than words could convey. (And Marshall steals every scene he’s in.)
At first Larita tries to win over her new in-laws, but mishaps keep occurring. The most elaborate is pure slapstick involving the family dog, and as Elliott admits on the commentary, it’s essentially the same routine from There’s Something About Mary. Well, yes and no. When you’re in the English countryside, with a butler and a groundskeeper and hunting hounds and antique pillow covers, it adds a whole new dimension of absurd, and Jessica Biel (who studied 1930s screwball comedy, especially Katherine Hepburn’s, to prepare for the role) plays it for all it’s worth.
When it becomes clear that Mrs. Whittaker can’t be won over, Larita goes to war. Among other things, she takes over the kitchen to serve a Thanksgiving dinner (listen closely to the various remarks around the table); she participates in the local fox hunt in her own unique way (the trailer gave it away, but I won’t); and she insists on replacing one of the drawing room paintings with one that was done of her in Paris by “a young Spaniard” who is never named but whose identity isn’t in doubt once you see the painting – and yes, she cheerfully informs her mother-in-law, she did pose nude.
An additional obstacle for Larita is the constant presence of Sarah Hurst (Charlotte Riley), daughter of Lord Hurst, who owns the neighboring property. John and Sarah grew up together and were assumed to be destined for marriage. Sarah is smart enough not to try to compete with the luminous Larita, but she’s always there. The more the sparks fly between Larita and his family, the more longingly John’s gaze seems to wander in Sarah’s direction.
In the latter part of the film, darker themes emerge as we learn more about both the Whittaker family and Larita and as romance yields to reality. It all comes to a head at Mrs. Whittaker’s annual fancy-dress ball, during which Larita makes a late but stunning entrance and dances a beautiful and gorgeously photographed tango with . . . someone. The film ends on a note that is both satisfying and sufficiently ambiguous that the two screenwriters discovered during the making of the film that they disagreed about it – and that both of their interpretations worked.
Video:
Sony’s releases have become so consistently excellent that one can almost go on faith. I saw Easy Virtue in an independently owned art house theater that takes pride in the quality of its exhibitions, and this Blu-ray looks at least as good, if not better, than what I saw on the screen. The detail, color values and black levels are all exquisite. In an effort to create a period film that feels contemporary, Elliott used numerous modern techniques, from the opening title sequence – which simulates an old newsreel projected on a CGI-rendered palace-style movie screen, then dissolves to a movie musical romantic tableau – to the insertion of reflections (again, through CGI) throughout the various mansions used for the Whittaker home. All of this is beautifully captured in the Blu-ray image, along with the minutia of the “cottage’s” crumbling decor, Larita’s elaborate outfits and the spectacular English countryside. In addition to being an entertaining film, Easy Virtue is also a beautiful one.
Audio:
The Dolby TrueHD track does a fine job of rendering the ever-present sounds of the country (wind, trees, animal noises), except for those moments when the filmmakers deliberately drop out sound for dramatic effect. For scenes like the fox hunt, the surround channels see more activity, and the musical selections engage the system to the fullest, a good example being Jessica Biel’s lovely rendering of the song “Mad About the Boy”, which opens the film. (On the commentary track, Elliott talks about how startled he was at discovering that Biel could sing; in fact, her early experience was in musical theater.)
Special Features:
Commentary by director/co-writer Stephan Elliott and co-writer Sheridan Jobbins.
One of the best commentaries I’ve ever listened to. Elliott talks at breakneck speed, and Jobbins is only a little slower. Between them, they cover more in this commentary than most people cover in two or three. They manage to cover script writing, casting, shooting, editing, sound editing and previewing and still have time for Elliott to talk about the difficulties he had with the two films that followed his success with Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, his long recovery from a near-fatal motorcycle accident (the screenplay for Easy Virtue was started while he was still in the hospital), and oddball stories about Richard O’Brien (creator of The Rocky Horror Show), attending the BAFTAs with Kristin Scott Thomas and numerous other tangents. We can only hope that this wildly energetic talent doesn’t have to wait another ten years before directing another film.
Deleted Scenes (app. 5:51). There are four scenes, which appear to be either in standard definition or from a workprint. At least one scene has incomplete effects. While there is no commentary or other explanation for why these scenes were cut, it is not hard to understand the reasons once you have seen the film.
Blooper Reel (6:12). Some of these are private jokes, the meaning of which won’t be obvious unless you’re already familiar with the other extras. For example, one scene between Ben Barnes and Colin Firth is a literal enactment of an Eddie Izzard routine that the two of them discovered they both love.
New York Premiere (6:12). This consists primarily of cast interviews. It takes the place of a standard EPK.
Trailers. In a departure for Sony, the film’s trailer is available as a separate special feature. If you haven’t already seen it, I recommend waiting until after you’ve seen the film. Also included are trailers for It Might Get Loud, Every Little Step, Whatever Works, Married Life, The Jane Austen Book Club and the inevitable trailer for Sony Blu-ray.
BD-Live. This feature was not yet active at the time I viewed the disc.
In Conclusion:
Throughout the commentary, Elliott describes the characters, the actors and even himself as being “trapped” in a period film. I think he recognized in Noel Coward’s creation of Larita a character who herself felt “trapped” in her time: an American on the cusp of the era when America was emerging onto the world stage, and a woman who was impatient with the limitations that society placed on her choices long before such rebellion became commonplace. By putting such a character at the center of a period film and casting an utterly contemporary movie actress to portray her, Elliott blew the cobwebs off the kind of stodgy “Masterpiece Theater” production that so often puts contemporary audiences to sleep. If Biel hadn’t been up to the challenge, the movie would have been another failed line on Elliott’s resume, but she was, and it soars.
Equipment used for this review:
Panasonic BDP-BD50 Blu-ray player (TrueHD decoded internally and output as analog)
Samsung HL-T7288W DLP display (connected via HDMI)
Lexicon MC-8 connected via 5.1 passthrough
Sunfire Cinema Grand amplifier
Monitor Audio floor-standing fronts and MA FX-2 rears
Boston Accoustics VR-MC center
SVS SB12-Plus sub
