[.ca] Poèmes pour Iris

Painful to watch.:
Iris (Richard Eyre, 2001) Iris is a great film, perhaps one of the finest I've ever seen. I won't be watching it again. It is the true (but, as it's based on the books written by her husband, likely revisionist) story of two discrete and parallel points in Iris Murdoch's life-her and her husband's courtship, and her slow descent into Alzheimer's, culminating in her death in 1999. Iris and John and played, respectively, by the teams of Kate Winslet (Quills, Heavenly Creatures) and Hugh Bonneville (proof once and for all that you can take a sex symbol and make him look like a geek), and Judi Dench (As Time Goes By, Chocolat) and Jim Broadbent (Little Voice, Gangs of New York). Both couples' performances have their strong points, to be sure, but it is the performance of Dame Judi Dench that takes what would otherwise have been a good above-average film and makes it into something both great and unwatchable. Dench, in the last few years, has turned onscreen death into an art form. In Chocolat, it was expected, but quick and relatively painless. Here it is slow, lingering, devastating to watch as Murdoch loses her faculties over the course of roughly four years (the book she is writing at the beginning of the film was released in 1996). It is, perhaps, the finest achievement of a career that has never been less than great. (And yes, since I know you're going to ask after a comment like that, I HAVE seen Dead Cert, thank you.) Finding the parallel between the two stories is somewhat difficult at first, but absolutely critical to understanding the reason that Eyre and co-author Charles Wood emphasized the things they did from Bayley's biographies. (It helps to know that Bayley referred to Murdoch during the last stages of her life as "a nice three-year-old." Keep it in mind while you're watching the film, especially when Winslet and Bonneville are doing their thing.) Without that, it is possible to mistake Iris for another of those recent films studded with great performances, but with little substance beneath (In the Bedroom, White Oleander, et al.). Rest assured, however, there is far more to this than the performances. It seems rather odd that Richard Eyre, for almost twenty years from the release of the sweet and wonderful Laughterhouse, directed exclusively for BBC Television. Iris was his first big-screen film since. His next, The Assumption, will be directed from a script written by Anthony Minghella and starring one of the greatest actors of our time, Javier Bardem. And yet I find it hard to believe that, no matter how perfectly The Assumption turns out, it will have anywhere near the effect of Iris. *****

Love Till Death Do Part:
John Bayley and Iris Murdoch were married for a long time and were in love. It wasn't always a bed of roses but they stood by one another even when she was stricken with Alzheimer's disease. John did what he could for his wife but he knew he couldn't do it alone. For anyone who thinks that love and marriage are dead, watch this movie. Love and marriage isn't dead. Their marriage strengthened through time which made them have a profound respect for one another and a strong love that bonded them together.

Exquisite Adaptation of John Bayley's Biography:
IRIS is one of the most exquisite film adaptations I've ever had the pleasure of watching. It's an intensely personal, and often intensely painful, look at the life and mental deterioration (from Alzheimer's) of Iris Murdoch, one of Britain's greatest authors. IRIS is composed of two intertwining narratives, one of Iris as a young girl, the other as a mature woman suffering the pain and degradation of Alzheimer's. While the intertwining narratives are inventive and beautifully written, the success of this film really depends on the strength of the four primary actors: Kate Winslet and Judi Dench as Iris and Hugh Bonneville and Jim Broadbent as John Bayley, the husband who remained devoted to Iris until the end of her life. I didn't find the two narratives difficult to follow at all. I thought they were very skillfully done and, as a result, quite easy to follow. Of course, those familiar with the life and work of Iris Murdoch will have an easier time of it than those who are not. Winslet and Dench are perfectly cast as Iris and both manage to convey her quirkiness, her femininity and her artlessness with stunning grace and compassion. Dench, who must portray Iris experiencing the deterioration of her intellectual powers has, perhaps, the more difficult role (and she plays it to understated perfection), but that takes absolutely nothing away from Winslet's stunning portrayal of the young Iris. Bonneville and Broadbent have an even more daunting task as Bayley, but both actors play their respective roles to perfection. Broadbent is especially good and quite understated as he shows us Bayley's love for Iris even as his heart is breaking over the wife he knows is slowly slipping away from him. Murdoch's and Bayley's magical connection was, in large part, due to their extreme intellectual connection and Broadbent does a marvelous job of showing this while still conveying passion and heartbreak. Bonneville also shines in this film. Just as Winslet is the perfect "younger" Iris, Bonneville is the perfect "younger" Bayley. IRIS is a quiet, rather intellectual film that, at times, is absolutely heartbreaking to watch. It could have slipped into melodrama or sentimentality, but the strong and very believable performances of Winslet, Dench, Bonneville and Broadbent didn't let that happen. IRIS is a film that's been lifted from an ordinary biography to the truly extraordinary by the exquisite performances of its four principle actors. Anyone who's interested in Iris Murdoch or her writing really can't pass this one up.

A love story, yes, but...:
If you're looking for a truly great love story involving a couple's bout with Alzheimer's, forget the movies. Read the book "A Promise Kept" by Robertson McQuilken. Robertson was a college president for over 20 years, and he resigned from his position to care for his wife Muriel, who was in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's at that time. As he said in his resignation letter: \oMuriel\c has cared for me fully and sacrificially all these years; if I cared for her for the next 40 years I would not be out of her debt. Duty, however, can be grim and stoic. But there is more: I love Muriel. ...I don't *have* to care for her. I *get* to! It is a high honor to care for so wonderful a person." Contrast that with Jim Bayley's abusive outburst towards his wife in the film, when he shakes her and screams at her "I HATE you, Iris, you stupid cow! I bloody loathe you, every bloody inch of you! All your frienda are finished with you... I've got you now, and I DON'T WANT YOU!" Then again, Robertson and Muriel's story didn't have the complicated issues of self-centeredness, jealousy, and control that Jim and Iris's story did. Robertson and Muriel have lived lives of fidelity, integrity, and commitment, and they both understood that marriage is first and foremost about personal sacrifice. I found it disappointing and rather annoying that in the film they had Iris repeat "Just hold tight to me and it'll be alright" and "Nothing matters except loving what is good" over and over, ad nauseum, throughout the film, as though those two lines were representative of her profundity. Didn't prove it to me, I'm afraid. But it did make me want to read what she actually *did* say and write, so I consider that to be a beneficial side-effect of watching the DVD. The one line she spoke that I did consider to be profound was when she told Jim he should accept her for who she was. It was obvious that he had difficulty doing this, both when she was young and promiscuous, with divided affections, and when she was old, confused and docile from Alzheimer's. The film portrayed her as happy and lovingly childlike, yet Jim seemed to be so focused on who she was in the past that he didn't seem to be able to find any delight or appreciation for the person she was in the present. She was no less lovable because she was no longer able to function as she previously had. The music for the film was absolutely lovely.

A Bittersweet Tale:
Iris Murdoch (played by Judi Dench as the older Iris, and Kate Winslet as the younger Iris) is a free-living well-recognized author who falls in love with a rather "nerdy" man who later becomes her husband. As she ages, she begins to suffer from the symptoms of Alzheimer's Disease and faces losing what she cherishes most: her talent to put words on paper and make meaningful literature out of them. It is saddening to watch as even she realizes that her mind is slowly distancing itself from her grasp, and once it is almost completely gone, her dear husband must face losing her to a nursing home. The movie didn't pick up my, or my husband's, interest until about a half-hour into it. In fact, we almost turned it off. I'm glad we stuck with it. Iris was a very endearing woman, and her cherished husband was such the gentleman for the way he was devoted to her.