The Magnificent Ambersons

Of course, even watching the Wells' version was like watching a completely different story than the actual Tarkington novel. The novel is so full of subtlety and nuance (and narration) that I suppose it would be hard for any film to capture it. But this TV flick seems to have been bourne out of some sort of bizarre class called Freud 101. A protective son, yes, but incestuous overtones??? By the way, where is the Midwest? It may have been an affluent family, but early-20th century Indianapolis bore no resemblance to this. Misty moors? Grand hilltop vistas? It's the Midwest for crying out loud! There were wooded estates then as now, but the book is rather specific in describing very public homes that were not removed from the peering eyes of the masses. It was kind of a main point.

Now, if one were to simply avoid comparison with the book, I suppose it could have worked rather nicely as a Lifetime/Harlequin movie. The settings, scenes, and costumes were all rather pleasant in an escapist way.

***SPOILERS*** ***SPOILERS*** Make no mistake, there is much to like in this remake of the classic Booth Tarkington story of the rise and fall of a powerful turn-of-the-last-century mid-western family and Orson Welles' classic film thereof. The scenery is some of the most beautiful seen in a made-for-TV film. The camera-work, in general, is outstanding. And there are some fine performances. Madeleine Stowe and Bruce Greenwood convey believability as the two lovers reunited after so many years, Gretchen Mol makes a fetching Lucy Morgan, William Hootkins (That's Lieutenant Eckhardt for you "Batman" fans.), rivets your attention every step of the way with his bluff, hearty Uncle George, and James Cromwell brings his usual understated warmth to clan patriarch Major Amberson. And the overall production his the usual A&E understated glitz.

So much for the good.

Now, it's an old maxim in the entertainment world that, if you don't have a lead who generates even a little sympathy, the audience you hope to reach won't respond as hoped. In other words, they ain't gonna like your movie. And there's the rub: Jonathan Rhys-Myers not only overplays George Amberson to an almost comic degree, but plays him as such a spoiled, unsympathetic little creep that you almost want to give him a bust in the mouth on general principles. Nowhere, not even in the scenes of his supposed reformation, does he ever generate sympathy of any kind. In Welles' excellent 1942 film, Tim Holt played George Amberson as a rich brat, but he was, at least, a vaguely sympathetic rich brat. Now, granted, Holt wasn't much of an actor, but, at least, his understated approach was far better than Rhys-Meyers' overplaying. All that was missing from the latter's interpretation was a top hat, cape, and handlebar mustache. This is what Snidely Whiplash must have been like as a kid!

In other words, you could do worse that the 2002 "Magnificent Ambersons," but you could do much better, too.

Like renting the far superior 1942 original, for example, which does a better job in half the time.

Not having read the book, nor having viewed the original Welles version, I watched The Magnificent Ambersons based on it being a period piece. I was also slightly intrigued that it was supposed to be a remake of what is considered a Welles classic. I watched the movie and found it stood well on its own. I was surprised to find it aired in 2002, as it is avant garde in form and has a fresh creativity, and even a daring in its approach that I would expect only of more recent films. The assembled cast is brilliant: Bruce Greenwood is the upbeat, returned prodigal, accompanied by his equally winsome daughter Gretchen Mol; James Cromwell is the patriarch, and Madeline Stowe is the many layered woman torn between her old flame and her ever present love for her son, Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Jennifer Tilly as the spinster aunt adds to the ensemble quite nicely. This was at times painful to watch, since Rhys Meyers's character, George, is so absolutely obnoxious in his arrogance, but this is can be overlooked as George's behavior and personality is what makes the piece tick. Some have criticized Rhys Meyers, yet I found it a very convincing performance. As the uncle put it, "Georgy, I've always been fond of you, but I haven't always liked you." I couldn't stand George, yet there was something that almost made me root from him. A long movie, 150 minutes; however, good acting,creative filming, and a fascinating plot make it worthwhile viewing.

I'd always heard that "The Magnificent Ambersons" was Orson Welles' masterpiece, but had never seen it until I got the two versions out of the public library. Now I'm even MORE curious about both the novel and Welles' screenplay. Welles' may have been ahead of his time cinematically, but the current version lacks bite largely because the storyline is outdated.

Lacking a narrative voice-over, the remake presents events and motivations more clearly through visuals and dialogue. I thought the new casting was near-perfect in terms of character types, and the settings were visually stunning. In th A&E version the viewer comes to mourn the loss of old- time aristocratic splendor, which in the Welles' version has a vaguely Gothic feel. Both versions, however, fail to absorb the viewer emotionally completely. Georgie definitely deserves a comeuppance, but neither version carries the full impact or allows the characters to grow to tragic stature.

I feel like I have to comment on this movie because of the rather indefensible comments of several reviewers. "The Magnificent Ambersons" is one of the great American tragedies; and its translation to the screen still remains a tragedy. I thought this A&E version was a lovely attempt although as Madeleine Stowe reportedly said before the production aired, they still didn't do it justice. If my understanding is correct, they were working from Orson Welles' original script which he was not allowed to bring to the screen in 1942. The tragedy of this production is that it is never quite as great as that flawed 1942 version, and so the informed viewer is left wondering what it would have been like to see Agnes Moorehead and Joseph Cotten play the final tragic scenes instead of Jennifer Tilly and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers. I didn't think either Tilly or Meyers were particularly perfect for the parts; but they were neither as bad as many reviewers make them out to be nor as great as I remember Moorehead and Cotten to have been. So watch both screen versions, combine the two in your head, and you'll have one of the greatest movies never made.