My first review

So, I thought to myself, what better way to start this project than with a review of the first movie to win an Oscar for Best Picture. Unfortunately, the fates and the DVD distributors disagreed with me, as that film, 1927's Wings, is not readily available on DVD. Netflix doesn't carry it, and eBay could only come up with a few VHS copies and some cheap-looking bootlegs. Even a torrent search tells me that I can have the movie sometime between 32 days from now and infinity. More on that later

With that plan gone awry, I decided to go with a movie that I had available to me, but that I had not watched yet, one that will close out the Oscar-winners of its year for me. (And one that is short enough for me to be able to watch it in the time that I have before I have to leave for work.) Today's review is for Iris. The winner of 2002's Best Supporting Actor Oscar for Jim Broadbent's performance, Iris was also nominated for Best Actress (for Judy Dench, who lost to Halle Berry for Monster's Ball), and for Best Supporting Actress (Kate Winslet, who lost to Jennifer Connelly for A Beautiful Mind).

Iris is touted (and even subtitled) as a memoir of author Iris Murdoch, but I wonder if that subtitle is meant to be ironic. Murdoch was probably the most influential female British author of the 1950s. Viewers of the film know this because several people throughout the course of the film say so. We do not, however, know it from being shown anything of her work. In fact, very little is said about her writing, other than that she writes "about freedom." The film is split between two portrayals of the author. In her younger days, Murdoch, as portrayed by Kate Winslet, is a budding author, having written a novel that is to be published, but that she has not allowed anybody to read yet. At this point, she is better known for her scandalous behavior - promiscuity, bisexuality, a proclivity to skinny dip (sometimes in front of crowds of small children), and a habit of wantonly riding her bicycle down hills at reckless speeds - than for her work. In her later years, Murdoch is portrayed by Judy Dench as a woman succumbing to the ravages of Alzheimer's Disease. Between the two portrayals, and left almost entirely unmentioned in this film, lays the span of what we are told was a brilliant writing career.

Even less is said about the career of Murdoch's husband, John Bayley, the role for which Broadbent won his Oscar. Astute viewers may pick up on the fact that Bayley is a professor of some sort. At no point does the film mention that he was a highly respected literary critic. Bayley, as played in this film, is seen as little more than a doting, stammering, long-suffering husband.

Don't get me wrong. The film is exceptionally well-acted. All three of the nominated performances are engrossing and involving, strong enough to warrant a recommendation for the film. Winslet's performance of a woman with the courage to flout society's conventions and the talent to become successful in spite of her reputation is empowering, and the descent of Dench's character into senility, and Broadbent's attempt to cope with it, are harrowing and emotional. I just feel that the film bookends a brilliant career, but glosses over the brilliance of the career itself.