FRANCES
Directed by Graeme Clifford
Written by Eric Bergren, Christopger DeVore, Nicholas Kazan
Starring Jessica Lange
Released in 1982
Directed by Graeme Clifford
Written by Eric Bergren, Christopger DeVore, Nicholas Kazan
Starring Jessica Lange
Released in 1982
The first time I saw Frances (1982), I thought they should have called the movie Jessica because clearly the star, Jessica Lange, had to be doing something far beyond mere acting in order to communicate the thoughts in the mind of the on-screen version of 1930s-40s actor Frances Farmer. Viewing the film again last night, I stand by my earlier assertion. While standing, I will even take things a step farther and make the claim right here that Jessica Lange's performance in Frances is the best acting job in the history of the medium. What's that? You've heard me rave before and have grown accustomed to this type of hyperbole? Well, judge for yourself, wiseguy.
Watch her in the scene with the despicable psychiatrist, Dr. Simington, the way her face contorts to betray her character's thoughts of sarcasm as a defense against her own personal terror. Then ask yourself if you could pull that off. Could you act as if you were a coquette only as a way of sending the shrink a sign of confusion about your motives so that you could feel good about being in control of the situation while what you actually are is scared to death? If you answered yes to this question, congratulations on being Jessica Lange because nobody else in the history of the medium has ever given us this.
More's the pity since the movie itself, while making all kinds of assertions about how Hollywood eats its own and the hypocrisy of the Seattle community, doesn't quite convince us of those sub-themes, in large part because of the often pitiful support cast. Kim Stanley does a fine job as Frances' mother Lillian, but beyond that, Lange is surrounded with several strings of television-quality actors (although, if you look closely, you will see Kevin Costner standing in the alley). The best of these TV actors is Jeffrey DeMunn, who plays playwright Clifford Odets with an almost eerie authenticity. The problem isn't so much that these TV actors cannot act. They certainly can. What they cannot do is fly, which is what they needed to be able to do in order to come across as if they were in the same movie as Ms. Lange. Even San Shepard, who tries like a bastard to keep up, simply cannot.
Then there's the problem with the facts. The real Frances Farmer was indeed a fascinating and apparently charming lady. She did not, from all reports--including her own--undergo the lobotomy to which this movie of her life leads inexorably. However, she was institutionalized and the movie does a fine job of mimicking the extreme heartlessness of the Mental Hygiene industry.
The movie also does a great job of recreating the tension between a daughter and mother that is sympathetic to both without lapsing into caricature. Real life is seldom cut and dried and this movie knows that, Lange and Stanley know that, and no one here plays the film for cheap sentiment, except possibly the writers, who admitted they didn't want to "nickle and dime the audience with facts."
So fuck the writers. This is an actors film. Not a lot of those have been made. See this one while you still can.
Watch her in the scene with the despicable psychiatrist, Dr. Simington, the way her face contorts to betray her character's thoughts of sarcasm as a defense against her own personal terror. Then ask yourself if you could pull that off. Could you act as if you were a coquette only as a way of sending the shrink a sign of confusion about your motives so that you could feel good about being in control of the situation while what you actually are is scared to death? If you answered yes to this question, congratulations on being Jessica Lange because nobody else in the history of the medium has ever given us this.
More's the pity since the movie itself, while making all kinds of assertions about how Hollywood eats its own and the hypocrisy of the Seattle community, doesn't quite convince us of those sub-themes, in large part because of the often pitiful support cast. Kim Stanley does a fine job as Frances' mother Lillian, but beyond that, Lange is surrounded with several strings of television-quality actors (although, if you look closely, you will see Kevin Costner standing in the alley). The best of these TV actors is Jeffrey DeMunn, who plays playwright Clifford Odets with an almost eerie authenticity. The problem isn't so much that these TV actors cannot act. They certainly can. What they cannot do is fly, which is what they needed to be able to do in order to come across as if they were in the same movie as Ms. Lange. Even San Shepard, who tries like a bastard to keep up, simply cannot.
Then there's the problem with the facts. The real Frances Farmer was indeed a fascinating and apparently charming lady. She did not, from all reports--including her own--undergo the lobotomy to which this movie of her life leads inexorably. However, she was institutionalized and the movie does a fine job of mimicking the extreme heartlessness of the Mental Hygiene industry.
The movie also does a great job of recreating the tension between a daughter and mother that is sympathetic to both without lapsing into caricature. Real life is seldom cut and dried and this movie knows that, Lange and Stanley know that, and no one here plays the film for cheap sentiment, except possibly the writers, who admitted they didn't want to "nickle and dime the audience with facts."
So fuck the writers. This is an actors film. Not a lot of those have been made. See this one while you still can.