Enchanted April |
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1992 - UK Director Starring |
This is my type of film, this is my sort of cast, nearly everyone seems to think highly of it… yet somehow it left me cold.
First of all, each of these four women who decide to share an Italian castle for a month are cookie-cutter stereotypes, and the only thing that redeems this fact is the casting of four brilliant British actresses to breathe much-needed life into them. Then, once we’re forced to accept these stereotypes, we’re then expected to hope they’ll all be magically transformed into a fifth such stereotype by an enchanting month in Italy: high-spirited, generous women bursting with love! I suppose what bothers me is this: I very much identify with their original plan to escape the men in their lives for a month in favor of solitude and feminine affinity. But they soon realize they’re terribly lonely, even though these men don’t appreciate them, cheat on them, merely lust after them, or are actually dead. If you want to call them repressed to start with it’s because of the men; and if you want to call them open and loving in the end, it’s apparently because of the men as well… And that doesn’t seem right. I suppose I’m a bit bitter that the pairings didn’t work out as I’d hoped (I can be quite petulant about such things!) and I suppose I’m approaching this from a moral stance I would hardly take up in real life. But the thing is… Rose’s husband cheated on her, or at least thought about it quite a lot, and she never finds this out and at least has the choice between him and a (ahem!) much better-suited suitor. I just… dammit… loser men should always be abandoned for adorable shy Englishmen. This is a universal movie law, is it not? Well, now it seems I’ve gone too far in expressing my peeves with the film to justify my |
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in glaring opposition to IMDb’s average of 7.3.* It is nevertheless a charming little film with a terrific cast (Alfred Molina, by the way, is woefully underappreciated). Its ultimate message of kindness, living in the moment, and loving while you can is a lovely one. I only wish Newell had taken another half hour, well within his rights, to explore more complexities within each woman and give them real choices. As is, it’s a minor delight worth a look.








