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ON THE GENERAL DIRECTION BY NEIL JORDAN, THE CINEMATOGRAPHY, AND THE EDITING OF THIS FILM
I'm lumping all this together because I truly don't know how to separate a director's contribution from that of the cinematographer and the editor. I don't know enough about film making. I don't know how much David Geffen influenced the film scene by scene. I wasn't there, and I don't have that experience on any film.
So, let's talk about the film as a film: Once again, the entire look of the film was perfection. It caught the dimness, the filth, the fragile handmade luxury and ornate aspirations of the 18th and 19th centuries; it caught the mud on the hem of the garment.
Over and over again, the viewer was brought in close to the faces of the characters, to hear them speak softly, to watch their eyes, their mouths. This was superbly and fearlessly intimate. Yet the camera moved back to Lestat the room to be magnificent; Brad Pitt was mercilessly pursued by the camera in prepubescent beauty and appeal were utterly respected. The handling of all players was masterly.
The pace of the film for me (and most readers calling in) was terrific. The film is genuinely thrilling. It is entertaining! You walk out exhilarated. You feel good and you want to go back. Many, many readers call me to say that they have seen the film over and over again. There is no lag for us in the second half of this film, and there is no conspicuous absence of anything. It was an extraordinarily satisfying film.
The film achieved the Dickensian goal of being meaningful and fun; of being deep and interesting and fun. No small feat in an age in which ``realism'' has become synonymous with "serious" and we are told that films about everyday life should command our respect over everything else.
The film's moral themes came across to me as clearly realized: we can conceive of immortality, but we're mortal. Inside each of us, regardless of outward grace, there is a misfit. That misfit at times feels like a monster. That misfit may at times behave like a monster.
Whatever Neil Jordan's comments to the press, he seemed to believe in that and to make it work on the screen. The film is one which the audience starts talking about, discussing, arguing before they ever leave the theatre. The film invites analysis. It invites a return viewing. It makes a difference to the people who see it.
The boldness of the scene with the whore and coffin is deeply disturbing in an excellent way. It makes you think about what you might do if you were Lestat. It makes you think about things you've done for entirely personal reasons. But it is disgusting.
The two panoramic scenes in Paris -- Claudia dancing with Louis at a ball; Claudia twirling in her new adult dress before the dressmakers -- both were appropriately immense and unstinting. (Again, the hair of the characters is eccentric. Louis with that long flowing hair in a 19th century Parisian ballroom? It make me think of the wild west. But I loved it!)
Neil Jordan's humorous scenes were a true comic relief. Though I would never have recommended them or written them -- killing poodles, letting the piano teacher fall dead on the keyboard -- I liked them and felt they were handled cleverly. They worked. And the shift between seriousness and humor worked.
The last scene involving Lestat: I was glad to see him, glad to have him back. When he said, "I feel better already," I loved it. When he pulled the lace out from under his sleeves, I was overjoyed. So all that worked for me. It was enough in keeping with the ending of my script and the book for me to be happy, for me to see the possibilities of a sequel. But I didn't write it.
(I
see no problem in moving from this Jordan created scene into TVL. None
whatsoever. There are all kinds of ways to do it and be true to TVL, the
book.)
This
section last modified 11-11-99
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