Notes on a Scandal (R)
Kimball's Twin Peak
Judi Dench might give yet another brilliant performance in Notes on a Scandal, and Cate Blanchett might be equally praiseworthy. In fact, the movie as a whole might be a terrific tale of repressed longing warped into mental instability.
All these things might be true, but I can't know for sure, because I spent nearly the entirety of its running time preoccupied with one question: What combination of threatening, pleading and cash would it take to get Philip Glass to never ever write another movie score?
I'm guessing that's not the reaction director Richard Eyre was looking for. Typically, you want your movie's music to set a tone while remaining relatively unobtrusive a harmony that complements the melody of the narrative and performances, rather than a dissonant counterpoint that overwhelms them.
But for 90-some-odd minutes, Glass' excruciating orchestrations kept turning even the simplest scenes into lurid melodrama. It was the auditory equivalent of trying to read a book while someone keeps flicking you repeatedly in the back of the head.
Screenwriter Patrick Marber's adaptation of Zo Heller's What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal, begins at a North London school, where veteran history instructor Barbara Covett (Dench) is beginning yet another term teaching the working-class teens she can barely tolerate. Into her world comes Sheba Hart (Blanchett), beginning her first year teaching art and struggling to get her bearings after years of being a stay-at-home housewife and mom to her special-needs son. Barbara offers to be the anxious Sheba's friend, and Sheba gladly accepts. But Barbara's attentions begin to grow a bit too attentive especially after she discovers that Sheba has been carrying on an affair with one of her students (Andrew Simpson).
It becomes evident soon enough that Barbara has lived her entire life in the deepest possible sexual-identity closet, her few awkward attempts at establishing connections with other women turning into borderline obsessions. It's smartly structured and full of promising thematic material.
Oh, and it has Judi Dench. There's a school of thought that says Dench only plays variations on the same tough, imperious theme her "M" from the Bond films is her Queen Elizabeth from Shakespeare in Love, etc. But it seems here that she understands that perception, and plays her creation of Barbara against it. Yes, she's the kind of flinty teacher who can freeze a classroom in its tracks with a glance. She's also so desperately lonely that her misanthropic journal jottings become the wall she raises between herself and other people. Dench does her finest to create a character that is more than a compendium of psychological clichs.
And then there are those head-flicks. The fundamental rule of suspense is "build and release," but Glass' approach is more along the lines of "build and build and build and build."
It's a fun exercise in dissecting the art of filmmaking to watch a movie like Notes on a Scandal and imagine what it would be like with literally no music at all. To contemplate how a seemingly tabloid premise could be rendered subtle and insinuating. To imagine what it would be like not to receive musical nudges in the ribs telling you that at any given moment Judi Dench may be about to boil a pet bunny.
An intriguing character drama is lurking somewhere beneath Glass' bombast, which keeps telling you that you're watching Lesbian Stalker from Hell.
The striking colors and textures are reminiscent of Southern Colorado and New Mexico. Lovely work.