YES is film you want to love and most people who watch it probably know they are in for a Sally Potter ride, so little quirks like an iambic pentameter script shouldn't shock. There are so many gorgeous moments in this lushly painted canvas, so many isolated portions of dialog that are thought-provoking or just simply beautiful English poetry, so many scenes that are in the capable hands of Joan Allen and Simon Abkarian that are among the finest depictions of understated passion - that it is a shame the overall effect of the montages is not wholly successful. And I think the lack of cohesion must be returned to the capable but distracted hands of Potter's script and direction.
Joan Allen (who simply grows more beautiful and talented with every edgy Indie she takes on) is a biogeneticist, a woman whose loveless marriage to cold politician Sam Neill is tolerable only because of her infatuation with her work. At a (here is one of the choice visual pearls of perfection) formal dinner she notices and is noticed by a handsome Lebanese cook (Simon Abkarian) and her heart ignites. The two talk, meet again, and respond viscerally to each other in a degree of passion and need new to both. This union opens the platform for words concerning Catholicism/Western philosophy versus Islam/Eastern loathing for the imperialism of the Western world (read USA): it is the Muslim philosophy/secular West conflict that resounds so clearly in today's world. Other concepts bathed in iambic pentameter include marriage, fidelity, motherhood, racism, immigration, bickering among the kitchen staff where the cook works - all worthy topics. As the two glide along the plane of a sexual relationship the man reveals he is a surgeon/scientist who left his country because of philosophical reasons and yet defends his Muslim stance and homeland to the isolated woman who is unable to 'hear' his crumbled life. The woman has interchanges with her goddaughter (Stephanie Leonidas), her dying communist aunt (who in voice over technique relates some of the loveliest lines in the script) and with her husband who cannot find his center. The manner in which this all comes to an end is best left for the viewer to discover.
The problems with Potter's jewel-like film are many: much of the dialog (some of which is simply terrible writing) is buried with excessively loud 'background' music (ranging from Satie to punk rock) but worse is enunciated so softly by the actors that it is indecipherable. Yes, Shakespeare wrote his plays in iambic pentameter, but not a word is lost in performances because the actors enunciate with perfect diction and allow the poetry to flow naturally, making it become simply dialog of elegance. Potter's poetry is spotty, so perhaps it is as well that much of it is lost. When it works, it is stunning. Joan Allen is radiant in this role and gives us as defined a character as possible given the script limitations. Much the same can be said for Armenian actor Simon Abkarian. And despite the conflicts in their philosophies that threaten to crack the crystal of their affair, there is a true chemistry here. Some characters such as Shirley Henderson try very hard but simply swallow their lines in annoying and blurry accents.
Sounds like a lot of negatives? Well, they are there, but for this viewer the piece still gives the same satisfaction as hearing a new symphonic work or viewing a form of visual art in progress. There is much beauty here, enough to beg forgiveness for the shortcomings. Grady Harp
Joan Allen (who simply grows more beautiful and talented with every edgy Indie she takes on) is a biogeneticist, a woman whose loveless marriage to cold politician Sam Neill is tolerable only because of her infatuation with her work. At a (here is one of the choice visual pearls of perfection) formal dinner she notices and is noticed by a handsome Lebanese cook (Simon Abkarian) and her heart ignites. The two talk, meet again, and respond viscerally to each other in a degree of passion and need new to both. This union opens the platform for words concerning Catholicism/Western philosophy versus Islam/Eastern loathing for the imperialism of the Western world (read USA): it is the Muslim philosophy/secular West conflict that resounds so clearly in today's world. Other concepts bathed in iambic pentameter include marriage, fidelity, motherhood, racism, immigration, bickering among the kitchen staff where the cook works - all worthy topics. As the two glide along the plane of a sexual relationship the man reveals he is a surgeon/scientist who left his country because of philosophical reasons and yet defends his Muslim stance and homeland to the isolated woman who is unable to 'hear' his crumbled life. The woman has interchanges with her goddaughter (Stephanie Leonidas), her dying communist aunt (who in voice over technique relates some of the loveliest lines in the script) and with her husband who cannot find his center. The manner in which this all comes to an end is best left for the viewer to discover.
The problems with Potter's jewel-like film are many: much of the dialog (some of which is simply terrible writing) is buried with excessively loud 'background' music (ranging from Satie to punk rock) but worse is enunciated so softly by the actors that it is indecipherable. Yes, Shakespeare wrote his plays in iambic pentameter, but not a word is lost in performances because the actors enunciate with perfect diction and allow the poetry to flow naturally, making it become simply dialog of elegance. Potter's poetry is spotty, so perhaps it is as well that much of it is lost. When it works, it is stunning. Joan Allen is radiant in this role and gives us as defined a character as possible given the script limitations. Much the same can be said for Armenian actor Simon Abkarian. And despite the conflicts in their philosophies that threaten to crack the crystal of their affair, there is a true chemistry here. Some characters such as Shirley Henderson try very hard but simply swallow their lines in annoying and blurry accents.
Sounds like a lot of negatives? Well, they are there, but for this viewer the piece still gives the same satisfaction as hearing a new symphonic work or viewing a form of visual art in progress. There is much beauty here, enough to beg forgiveness for the shortcomings. Grady Harp