MAN FROM ELYSIAN FIELDS, THE
MAN FROM ELYSIAN FIELDS, THE , USA , 2002, MPAA Rating : R: for language and sexual content
The thing to remember while watching THE MAN FROM ELYSIAN FIELDS is that this is a parable. Its relationship to the real world is symbolic, hence a male escort service named after the classical Greek take on the afterlife, and a writer who thinks that there is a place for his literate prose in a world where Danielle Steele is a gazillionare.
The writer would be Byron Tiller, played by the filmís co-producer, Andy Garcia. When we meet him, heís pondering his life and his empty bank account while trying to drum up a sale for his novel, which resides on the remaindered table at a fashionable bookstore in Pasadena. Heís barking up the wrong tree, but Byronís great talent may not be his prose, but his inability to see things clearly. Itís a failing he shares with his wife, who loves him unconditionally and who quotes his rave reviews as part of their foreplay.
When his publisher turns down his latest book about migrant workers for being too symbolic in the microcosm sense, a last shred of financial hope meanders purposefully into his life in the form of Luther Fox. Heís proprietor of the ci-mentioned Elysian Fields and when he offers Byron work, the tale takes the plunge into a series of neat twists and turns that I would be remiss to give away. They swirl around Byronís client, Andrea Alcott, the beautiful young wife of a dying and very old Pulitzer-prize winning writer who encourages the relationship and who happens to be one of Byronís idols. What should have been a tidy and mutually satisfying arrangement instead becomes an object lesson in honesty when Byron forgets that Andrea is truly in love with her husband, both of whom welcome him with open arms and one with ulterior motives.
Filmed in a stylish noiresque fashion by George Hickenlooper, the brooding shadows underscore nicely the compromises Byron makes with his conscience. The script, by Philip Jayson Lasker is nicely leavened with sharp wit, making for a piquant counterpoint to Byronís descent. None is more pointed than when Byron asks Luther, played with cool suavity and the proper amount of world-weariness by Mick Jagger, whether heís embarrassed to be in the business of pleasuring rich women. No, replies Luther, only poverty is embarrassing. Yet Luther, too, learns a lesson in the course of the film at the hands of his longtime client played by Anjelica Huston. When the boom is lowered, Jagger, who could have walked through the part, shows a surprising depth as life poleaxes him. And since in a film like this, the performances are key, weíre in luck. Garcia is his usual smoldering and hunky self, but thereís an earnestness to those soulful eyes that lets you suffer with him on his first assignment, and root for him as he wages war with his own better nature. Olivia Williams as Andrea Alcott has the face of an angel and a spine of steel. James Coburn as her dying husband generates the shadow of his characters hell-raising voracious appetite for life with just the right glint in his eye at the wonder and absurdity of it all, whether philosophizing about reincarnation or interrupting his wife and Byron in media res to offer an off the cuff bon mot. Rounding out the proceedings is Julianna Margulies as Byronís wife. She brings a grit and toughness to what could have been a doormat of a role but instead makes her a sympathetic character whose very loyalty complicates Byronís life.
Ultimately, though, itís Byronís capacity for self-delusion and Andreaís absolute loyalty that will have people arguing about the right and wrong of what each does in the course of THE MAN FROM ELYSIAN FIELDS. This might just be the most intriguing date movie since INDECENT PROPOSAL.
Listen to the interview with Andy Garcia.
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|Whew, Kid, finally we agree on a film! All films are meant to be parables; once you have that child-mindset the wonder of films manifest. Yes, even Cradle of Life and Tears of the Sun have something to offer.
Ah, James Coburn! His last film, what a guy. I recently read an interview and the writer was impressed not by his physicality, or his star status, but the utter warmth of the man. Hollywood missed something when he semi-retired. Had he sold out, he would have been a megastar. I refer here to his Our Man Flint character; he loved the character, but the scripts lacked quality. A lot of actors would have taken the money and made a half dozen "Flints" and become Sean Connerys. So that integrity shines through.
And Andy Garcia's 'soulful eyes?' Well, I suppose it has nothing to do that he's decent-looking? I think Angelina Jolie has soulful eyes at times, too.
Mick Jagger was a surpsie, too. A believable actor, and I forgot who he was, wearing a suit and tie.
Excellent stuff, recommended for its fine pace, lovable characters (with exception of Coburn's wife, although one can emphasize with her, too), sharp cinematography. |