Blog From The Bench

The unexpected swan song of the fabled Merchant and Ivory collaboration turn to a setting that Casablanca made famous: that of the mythic bar. Not the typical Friday-evening-beer kind of joint, but the glamorous social microcosm stuffed to capacity with patrons dressed to kill maneuvering through picturesque billows of smoke, where classy entertainment is the featured attraction, knowing full well that the political intrigue in the dark corners is where the action is really at.

But The White Countess goes where Casablanca dares not to go—the destruction of this beautiful little dreamworld. As Ilsa disappears into the night sky and Rick utters his memorable closing quip to Renault, the viewer gets the impression that Rick’s Café Americain is indestructible—and indeed, it is (at least in the memory). But where Rick’s Café merely serves as a canvas in which unforgettable characters can be showcased, the White Countess Bar is utilized as a glittering symbol of a whole world on the brink of destruction.

Among the characters we find lurking amid the shadows of the White Countess Bar is Ralph Fiennes as a former American diplomat who creates his dream bar in reaction to a tragic accident that rendered him blind and Natasha Richardson as the title character—the stunning Russian expatriate Fiennes plucks from an existence of abject poverty, transforming her into a dazzling hostess for Shanghai’s elite along the way.

Richardson, who rarely gets the opportunity to head a film, shines as the Countess Sophia Belinsky. Now in her early 40’s, Richardson is at that delicate age where her physical beauty is starting to betray itself—and Richardson wisely uses this as an essential element of the Countess’s character. It’s a powerhouse performance, but a nuanced one, and its unfortunate that it hasn’t received any awards recognition whatsoever. On the other hand, as the blind and embittered American abroad, Fiennes’s performance is more problematic, plagued by the fact that at times he’s not believable as either blind or American. He gets by mostly on the charisma of his presence, which is formidable.

But at times it seems that the real star of the show aren’t the characters, but the setting. Christopher Doyle chalks up another visual masterpiece to his ever-lengthening filmography, with his camera 1930’s Shanghai comes alive… glowing in rich shades of gold, greens and scarlet with an overabundance of expressive shadows, The White Countess looks like a Wong Kar-Wai film made by, well, Merchant and Ivory. Visually, The White Countess is one of the most accomplished films of the year—it’s almost worth seeing on account of the amazing images alone.

Despite its star power (joining Richardson is British acting royalty Lynn and Vanessa Redgrave playing exiled Russian royalty) and it’s ravishing visual sensibility, The White Countess certainly has it share of flaws. At times it's too ponderous, at others too self-important, but really, when it comes down to it, what Merchant and Ivory production isn’t? A movie that lingers nicely in the mind, ultimately attaining a glowing patina that burnishes itself in the memory.

Just beautiful. 8/10