Bloom

Sean Walsh has created a delightful, beautiful, and very accessible film of James Joyce's "Ulysses".

As a Joycean who has read Ulysses many times and has studied the novel, I realize the immense challenge in bringing this world-shaking novel to the screen. It has only been attempted once before, the 1967 "Ulysses" directed by Joseph Strick.

"Bloom" is elegant and captivating. It does great justice to the novel and is an honest and generally successful attempt to sort out the complexity of this book.

Acting is first rate, especially Angeline Ball (Molly Bloom). Cinematography is meticulous, providing us an historic glimpse of 1904 Dublin.

"Bloom" is more approachable than the '67 "Ulysses" and perhaps not as intense or artistic, but it nevertheless is a superb film and is highly recommended by this James Joyce fan.

Bloom (or Bl.,m if you're to go by the opening credits) had the potential to follow in the footsteps of what is regarded as the greatest written novel of the 20th century, the Joyce classic Ulysses, an epic ramble around Dublin. What we have here though is merely a supplement to the novel, an illustrated guide to the main parts of the book. Anyone wishing to enjoy this purely as a cinematic event will be disappointed, as the film seems to be almost completely inaccessible to someone not versed in the book. The major plot points (and there are numerous) are lightly touched on (eg Bloom's 'Jewishness') and then we get a plethora of narration taken verbatum from the book over scene after scene on beaches! Obviously the size of the budget limited this film greatly, but it seems the one crucial element missing from the book was the actual walking itself. Since the book focuses on the main characters walking around Dublin, you would expect some in the film, but given the changing face of Dublin 100 years in the future, the film was severely restricted, much to it's detriment. The film had potential yes, but perhaps too much was bitten off, & the pretentious ending, coupled with manipulative a score ruins even the ideas trying to be expressed by this too-faithful adaptation.

A total disappointment. I thought the Strick 1967 version was bad; compared to this, that version seems like "Citizen Kane." Where to begin?? The direction is far too facile & literal--much of the film is done in voiceovers, and in some scenes every literal reference finds its way on film. The filming of the "Circe" episode is the most wince-inducing, because we see as "real" what is for the most part dream/hallucination-induced. In addition, the actors are all wrong. Stephen Rea was brilliant in "Crying Game"; however, pushing 60, he's too old for the 38-year-old Leopold Bloom. The guy playing Stephen Dedalus seems like an adolescent and far too giddy for a guy who neither bathes nor has fond memories of his mother's death (never mind his trauma over having a Brit shoot up his domicile). The actress playing Molly __seems__ too young and is too physically fit. (In the book, everyone refers to her as being fat). The only enjoyable parts of the movie had nothing to do with the film production BUT everything to do with Joyce's writing. Read the book! Bob

Some of Leo Bloom may as well be in Gaelic, I simply can't divine what he's saying. I'm looking at this on a DVD with only Spanish subtitles. Ulysses is difficult enough reading. Having to try and divine the all important voice-over without captions is crazy. But I notice many artsy fartsy British Isles stuff comes to the US without subtitles. The idea is there's such a small market in the states for such DVDs that spending money on subtitles just whittles the already small profit, smaller.

The film has inspired me to go back and tackle the book again. I haven't read a line of it in 40 years. At a minimum I won't leave the book until I've read the entire Molly Bloom soliloquy. Its what Ulysses journeyed home to hear.

It's tempting to describe this film by listing all the things it is not. The earlier black and white version, by Joseph Strick in the Summer of Love 1967, starring Milo O'Shea, was too steamy for Ireland and Glasgow, where it was banned, but it was quite sedate and circumspect even by the mores of the time. There has been an excellent serial on BBC Radio, where good use was made of echo/reverb and stereo in depicting the various voices of guilt, regret, lust, fantasy, stream-of-consciousness. In a sense, Michael Winterbottom got closer to the show-off spirit of Joyce in 'Cock and Bull Story', but this production is its own movie. It certainly gets back to the 'cut and paste' feel of the book, and looks every bit as lubricious and smelly as it aught to. Dublin looks dark and damp as it is on the written page, albeit with a touch of filmier romance. The scenes of pure mad fantasy, on the other hand, are either under hardedged sit-com lighting or bathed in a 'Ridley Scott' fog. Most of the dialogue is slightly stagey - or it has the kind of distanced feel associated with post-synching, but only once does this mannerism jarr, when Dedalus (Hugh O'Connor) is spouting his opinions on life and art; so 'rehearsed' and declamatory that it could almost be seen as a deliberate nod to Joyce's category-jumping. Stephen Rea has just the kind of hang-dog look of regret, guilt and ineptitude you can imagine in Leopold Bloom; Angelina Ball as Molly is permanently redolent of warm bed. A neat trick with the structure was to begin with Molly's soliloquy,but otherwise, the overall framework follows the book; if we had been deprived of That Ending, who knows, riots could have broken out. As it is, the acceptance of human folly and the celebration of cerebral grandiosity in vile bodies forms a happy cloud round the exit. One to see again. CLIFF HANLEY