Christy Lemire
November 27, 2015
Can a movie be impeccably[1]
made—well-cast and strongly acted, flawlessly[2]
appointed and gorgeously[3]
shot[4]—yet
still leave you cold? Can it do everything right technically without touching
you emotionally? Can it offer a transporting experience without changing you
one bit? Such is the conundrum [5]with
“The Danish Girl.”
Given that he’s telling
the story of real-life artist Einar Wegener (Eddie Redmayne)—the first-known person to undergo
sexual reassignment surgery[6]
nearly a century ago when he transformed himself into Lili Elbe—director Tom Hooper plays it dismayingly[7]
safe. As was the case with his Oscar-winning “The King’s Speech” and “Les
Miserables,” Hooper’s latest is tasteful and restrained[8]
to a fault. It is easier to admire than love. And maybe that’s intentional to
some extent[9].
Maybe—in adapting Lucinda Coxon’s script, based on David Ebershoff’s novel about the 1920s Danish
landscape painter—Hooper aims to reach the widest possible audience by
presenting such potentially challenging material in the form of a lush[10]
prestige[11]
picture[12].
Maybe the thinking is
that the vast majority of people would be more likely to see a movie about a
transgender character if it were offered as awards[13]
bait[14],
to use a phrase[15]
that’s pejorative[16]
but apt, rather than a scrappy[17]
little indie[18]
like “Tangerine[19].” Between both of these
movies—and the award-winning television series ‘Transparent[20],”
and the well-documented saga[21]
of Caitlyn Jenner—the struggles transgender people have endured have been part
of the consciousness and dialogue this past year like never before. “The Danish
Girl” may seem zeitgeist[22]
through sheer[23]
timing[24]—and
that may seem cynical[25]
on the surface—but it’s clear that its heart is in the right place.
But speaking of the
heart, “The Danish Girl” is more likely to appeal to the head. Admittedly,
there’s some striking[26]
imagery that will surely grab[27]
you: tutus[28]
hanging backstage at the ballet, illuminated[29]
from below like tulle[30]
jellyfish, or the crisp [31]symmetry[32]
of immaculate[33],
identical[34]
row houses, shot in widescreen. During a rare daring moment, Einar visits a
peep show[35]
to mimic the stripper’s[36]
moves, and the two end up in a spontaneous sort of dance through the glass. But
there are also plenty of images that are rather obvious and simplistic in their
symbolism[37]:
a sheer sheet[38]
hanging between Einar and his wife Gerda (Alicia Viklander) at bedtime,
providing a physical separation, or a scarf blowing away in the wind as Alexandre Desplat’s score soars[39]
with it.
The excellent
“Tangerine,” by contrast, may seem like a daunting prospect: Sean Baker’s film, about a pair of trash-talking
transgender prostitutes tearing through the streets of Hollywood on Christmas
Eve, stars first-time actresses and was shot entirely on an iPhone. But it
actually ends up being the more accessible of the two films; it’s got an
immediacy and a vibrancy[40]
that “The Danish Girl” sorely[41]
lacks, as well as a genuine sense of emotional connection.
This is no fault of the
film’s stars, Eddie Redmayne and Alicia Vikander, who both give deeply
committed performances—although one is stronger than the other. Redmayne has
proven himself a technical master of transformation; his precise[42]
performance as Stephen Hawking in last year’s “The Theory of Everything” understandably earned him an Academy Award for best actor.
Once again, he’s playing a real-life figure who undergoes a physical change
that puts a strain[43]
on his marriage and forces both partners to reexamine their fractured[44]
bond[45],
even as it’s clear that they still love each other.
Hooper, working with his
usual cinematographer[46], Danny Cohen, luxuriates[47]
in Redmayne’s androgyny[48]
as Einar steadily morphs[49]
into Lili. (Those cheekbones! Those lips! Those long, elegant limbs!) And Paco Delgado’s Jazz Age costume design is just
decadent[50]—not
only for Redmayne but for the cast as a whole. But the film regards this
complex figure in a way that’s mostly superficial[51].
We never truly understand what drives Einar to become Lili completely, despite
the physical danger and the social stigma[52];
the character becomes a collection of mannerisms[53]
and proclamations[54].
Certainly she was brave, but grasping the source and depth of that bravery
would have made her feel like a fully fleshed-out person worthy of more than
just polite appreciation.
The story that’s truly intriguing[55]
is the one that belongs to Vikander as Einar’s wife, Gerda—a fellow painter who
struggled to be taken seriously in her husband’s shadow until she asks Einar to
sit for a portrait of a ballerina and gets her first glimpse of his feminine
side. Although Einar is the one who changes physically, Gerda is the one with
the more compelling[56]
emotional arc[57].
She’s in the tricky[58]
spot[59]
of having to be the rock but also evolve with an ever-changing situation, and
doing so gives her more opportunities for shading.
At first, she’s accepting of Einar wearing lingerie[60]
under his suits and even a little turned on by it; playing dress-up at home
eventually inspires them to enjoy lavish[61]
evenings among their friends in Copenhagen, just a couple of girls out on the
town. But as it becomes increasingly clear that “Lili” isn’t just a persona[62]
but rather an expression of Einar’s true self, Gerda has to grapple[63]
with the fact that everything she’s known to be safe and true is crumbling
beneath her.
At the same time, her
career as a portrait artist is finally flourishing[64]—with
the blossoming Lili as her muse[65].
And as friends new (Ben Whishaw) and old (Matthias Schoenaerts) enter the equation to lend support in various forms, they
muddle[66]
matters further.
Vikander, who’s been on
such a roll this year already in two extremely different films—the exquisite “Ex Machina” and the glossy[67]
romp[68]
“The Man From U.N.C.L.E.”—makes every moment of her character’s journey
believable with great nuance[69],
from her strength and optimism to her confusion and loneliness. There’s a
lovely delicacy to her but also a directness that’s equally appealing.
The title refers to
Redmayne’s character and the transformation he underwent to make his outsides
match his insides (to borrow a line from another recent beautiful but chilly
domestic drama, Angelina Jolie Pitt’s “By the Sea”). But Vikander may actually be the film’s true star.
http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/the-danish-girl-2015
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