When she finally does meet the woman, while surrounded by the ageless statues in Central Park, Danner’s matriarch is revealed to be tragically aloof, unwilling to embrace Carlisle as her own flesh and blood, let alone introduce her daughter to the rest of her family. Having been abandoned by her biological mother ( Blythe Danner) soon after her birth, she is desperate to track the elusive parent down in the hopes that it will provide her with a sense of direction and catharsis. The friendship that evolves between the mismatched pair is certainly among the film’s primary focuses, but it often plays second fiddle to Carlisle’s solo journey of self-discovery, and ultimately self-actualization. When she learns that the girl plans to study with a revered dance company in New York City, Carlisle is eager to chaperone her, though for reasons that run deeper than a temporary escape from domestic entrapment.
Carlisle has resigned herself to the routines of an empty home life, yet something awakens within her as she watches 15-year-old Brooks dance with carefree exuberance for an uptight audience of elders. Like “The Wife,” “The Chaperone” takes its title from a reductive role women have been branded with throughout the generations, limiting the growth of their identity so that it may be defined by their caregiver status. I have no doubt Brooks would’ve been equally baffled by Glenn Close’s titular heroine in Björn Runge’s “The Wife,” who chooses to live in her husband’s shadow, despite her formidable talents.Ĭlose’s character was dissuaded from seeking stardom by none other than McGovern, playing an embittered novelist who stops the show with her one big scene, claiming that women’s voices are ignored by publishers and the public alike (“A writer’s gotta be read, honey,” she sighs). During one of her earliest interactions with Norma Carlisle (McGovern), the Wichita housewife who volunteers to accompany her on a pivotal cross-country trip circa 1922, Brooks ridicules The Age of Innocence for romanticizing its protagonist’s choice to remain in quiet desperation rather than pursue his dreams. Adapted by Julian Fellowes from the bestselling book by Laura Moriarty, this handsomely mounted production initially resembles the sort of sentimentalized historical fiction that would’ve likely tested the patience of its own real-life heroine, silent screen icon Louise Brooks (Richardson). With these two top-drawer talents anchoring Michael Engler’s “The Chaperone,” one expects the picture to be terrific, and for the majority of its running time, it does not disappoint. The lingering look she gives her visibly hurt date during their tense car ride home is a classic example of how intricately nuanced silence can speak more volumes than limitless reams of prose ever could. When Jeannie’s earnest heart-to-heart with Conrad is disrupted by a raucous gang of jocks, her first impulse is not to jeer at them with idealized heroism, but to laugh in embarrassment, a far more human and painfully relatable response. Despite McGovern’s limited screen time, she and Richardson proved equally deft at ensuring that their characters emerged as fully realized beings rather than mere sounding boards for their male co-stars.
0 kommentar(er)
