'Beloved' has amazing grace

By SCOTT FOUNDAS
Film Editor

Seemingly against all odds, Jonathan Demme has tackled Toni Morrison's "Beloved." Heralded as one of the most difficult novels of our time to adapt to the screen, the past decade has been filled with much speculation about "Beloved"'s fate, as producer and star Oprah Winfrey waited deliberately until she felt the time was right to make the film. Now, finally, that labor of love has come to fruition, and the result is a most hauntingly evocative, daringly experimental and rapturously sensuous of American pictures.

"Beloved" is, most of all, a tone poem about states of mind and characters who opt to live inside their heads rather than in the world of real life. It is about the tangible ability of the past to haunt us, and the way in which varying levels of spiritual reality can interact with us and blur our vision. It is about the danger of immersing oneself in memory, regret and self-hatred, and it is a fable whose moral is that emotional bondage can be as or more painful than physical shackles. Finally, it is about the need to set oneself free from such imprisonment.

In the role she longed to play, Winfrey makes a surprisingly powerful return to the big screen as Sethe, the runaway slave whose story provides the backbone to Morrison's tricky, impatient anti-narrative. Fiercely proud of her freedom, Sethe has one of those wearied, hardened faces that seems replete with tragic stories to tell. Yet, Sethe's days of tragedy are over; at least she has convinced herself that they are. She's her own master now, raising her teenage daughter Denver (Kimberly Elise) in their rural Ohio home.

But Sethe and Denver are both outcasts, rarely leaving the house and gossiped about throughout their town for reasons unknown to us. Dark secrets run deep in Sethe's past, but Denver's seclusion has more to do with uncertainty and fear than actual experience. She doesn't understand yet why the townspeople whisper behind her back, though she has an idea, the potential truth of which only makes her more withdrawn.

Mostly, though, Sethe and Denver spend their time trying not to upset the tempestuous spirit that shares their home - an immature, temperamental ghost prone to throwing dishes, furniture and even animals wildly about. Sethe believes it to be the spirit of the young daughter she lost shortly after escaping from slavery. Things begin to look up for Sethe and Denver with the appearance of Paul D (a fine, subdued Danny Glover), an old friend of Sethe's from the plantation days who claims he's been walking for the better part of two decades, just looking for the right place to settle down. Sethe welcomes him in, but Paul D's presence causes an explosion of violent behavior in the spirit that haunts Sethe. Then, just as abruptly, the poltergeist phenomena stop entirely, and all is calm again. That is, until the arrival of a mysterious young woman who calls herself Beloved (Thandie Newton in a performance of remarkable mimicry).

Hobbling unsteadily like a child who has lost her motor skills and speaking in a gravely, trancelike voice, Beloved is welcomed into Sethe's home despite a certain instinctual reluctance on behalf of Denver and, particularly, Paul D. Soon, their suspicions prove warranted, as Beloved becomes more than a handful to take care of, capable of wreaking as much or more physical and emotional havoc on Sethe's family as the spirit that used to be a part of their lives.

With her, Beloved seems to bring the past, and her constant questioning of Sethe threatens to bring painful, long-buried memories to the surface again. Yet, Sethe is transfixed by Beloved and seems willing to submit herself to whatever Beloved demands. The longer Beloved is around, the more Sethe threatens to become consumed by the private, two-person world she and Beloved have created. For Sethe, Beloved is like the second daughter who died all those years ago. In actuality, she may be more than a mere remembrance of things past.

With this dense weave of character, mood and spirituality in place, "Beloved" evolves into a remarkably sensitive epic about human frailty, sorrow and the capacity for forgiveness, as Denver struggles to break free from the emotional baggage of Sethe's home. In doing so, she may be able to liberate them both. And as Denver, the deceptively young Elise gives what may be the film's most skilled, understated performance as a bright, spirited teenager slowly being eroded by the fears and dependencies imposed upon her by her mother. "Beloved" is really her story, as we see that she is the only one with the power to help Sethe and herself from the shadows they have made their home.

In approaching Morrison's complex material, Demme has done a masterful job of translating his own fluid, naturalistic style to a subject unlike any he has approached before. Still, while the time and place may be alien, Demme is a great teller of American stories and is exceptionally keen on people. (He knows the ways in which action and behavior can exist in complete opposition to what is actually going on inside a character's head.) With his sensitive, unobtrusive hand, he guides "Beloved" into and out of the past, as well as through a series of authentically menacing moments of horror, all with an assured sense of the film's larger story.

Working from a screenplay by Akousa Busia, Richard LaGravenese and Adam Brooks, Demme seamlessly merges the elements of memory, romance, murder and ghost story, letting Morrison's palette of so many disparate storytelling elements work as an aid, rather than a hindrance, in crafting a deeply psychological and taut, compelling piece of contemporary fiction.

With his veteran cinematographer Tak Fujimoto, Demme places the camera right in front of his actors, giving the audience the subjective point of view of whoever is being addressed at any given time, and gloriously breaking one of the fundamental rules about cinematic composition and screen direction in the process. Through these close-ups and his unpredictable employ of silky-smooth steadicam movements, Demme takes great pains to make "Beloved" seem as intimate as possible. The characters in the film, much like those in a Rodchenko photograph, are always either watching or being watched. Sitting in Demme's audience taking in the film, we too feel a similar sense of voyeurism.

Make no mistake, "Beloved" is a big Hollywood movie (released by the Disney studios), and the kind of important, serious picture strategically positioned for fall release in the hopes of garnering many nominations and awards.

However, the film's ultimate strength lies in its straightforwardness and entire lack of pretense. It is that rare movie about minority characters that expresses no need to sanctify or patronize its protagonists, and as such is a welcome departure both from the offensive pandering of Steven Spielberg's "The Color Purple" (a movie which "Beloved" couldn't be further from) and Demme's own self-important mess, "Philadelphia." Demme is a wondrous director of much untapped potential, and with "Beloved" he triumphs at the helm of his largest project yet. The film is unique and challenging in its presentation of flashbacks and the supernatural and, while nothing in "Beloved" quite matches the psychotic energy of "Something Wild" (still Demme's best film), Demme's uncompromising attitude toward character and tone keeps things tough, honest and surprisingly dark almost until the very end.

In the final act of "Beloved," Demme gives in a bit to temptation, and while he doesn't exactly turn soft, he begins to take "Beloved" in a more comfortable, sentimental direction, building to a climax that is the least believable aspect of the entire film. In doing so, Demme doesn't entirely betray his convictions, and the infusion of levity almost provides a welcome relief from the suffocating weight of what has come before it, even if it causes a largely brilliant three hours to end on a curiously irresolute note.

Copyright 1998 by the Daily Trojan. All rights reserved.
This article was published in Vol. 135, No. 31 (Friday, October 16, 1998), beginning on page 7 and ending on page 10.