The Hours (2002)

	Sign In Sign-Up

The Hours (2002)

A day in three ordinary lives made extraordinary

Stephen Daldry's film about three women in different time periods fighting conformity, loneliness and desperation undoubtedly turned more than a few male viewers aside. Don't let that happen. Based on Michael Cunningham's Pulitzer prize-winning novel, adapted by David Hare, The Hours is much more than the story of three unhappy women without nine to five jobs and too much time to feel sorry for themselves. Leading ladies Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore and Nicole Kidman have never shone more brightly, and they emote so powerfully, even XRT's Regular Guy might have to dry his eyes a little. (Not that I did, you understand. Real men don't cry.)

Kidman is famed English writer Virginia Woolf, who commits suicide by drowning herself at the fim's beginning. After this, however, we soon go back to 1925, in the midst of Woolf's struggle with manic depression and her sedated existence in suburban Richmond Here, she is working on her novel Mrs Dalloway, a close examination of a day in the life of a housewife in post-Victorian England which serves as the fulcrum upon which the other characters' lives are affected.

Moore is Laura Brown, an unhappy housewife of the 1950s expecting her second child while preparing a birthday cake and party for her husband (John C. Reilly). The only escape Laura finds from her stifling existence is through Woolf's novel Mrs Dalloway . Streep is Clarissa Vaughn, a present-day New York City lesbian and editor, planning a party for her once-lover turned gay friend dying of AIDS, Richard (Ed Harris).

All three women suffer under more than similar circumstances--they suffer "trivial" distractions (voluntarily or otherwise) that eat up much of their time, preventing them from living the life they want to live and being the people they feel they are inside. All three women are not so much suffering from the antagonisms of the men in their lives--it's more like they're smothering beneath their concerns and/or love. All three women reach similar conclusions about what can help them and what is within their power to control (though these conclusions lead to different actions), and the eighty years or so separating them makes the film's conclusion almost mind-blowing in its drama and closure.

Much can be said about The Hours' literary merit. This is hardly surprising, given its source (Cunningham's novel is nothing if not engrossing), but each actress has provided an incredible range of kinetic and facial cues to express the individual character's struggles. Kidman, of course, is the most obvious; her artificial schnoz helps transform her into a brooding artist even Tom Cruise wouldn't look twice at on the street. But Moore and Streep also convey a powerful sense of helplessness, through actions ranging from setting the table to crying uncontrollably. The backup performances are stellar as well--child actor Jack Rovello is gripping as Laura's dependent son Richie (even if they had to read him fairy tales to evoke the proper expression), and Harris, particularly, gives a remarkably potent performance.

While hardly an upbeat movie (no less than three potential suicides are addressed, and none are apparently condemned), you can find a more positive message than received at a cursory glance. The characters experience true happiness through expectation, through looking forward, through fleeting, hardly-realized moments--everything but what they think is true happiness, or what they are told constitutes smiles and good cheer. The film explores the value of life through tragedy, which we all face at one time or another, and through the everyday (buying flowers, baking cakes, planning parties), making it a sort of Everywoman saga for the 21st century. Yes, gentlemen, it's feminist label cannot be discarded, but it's not a Special Edition "You ever get that not-so-fresh feeling" type of thing. It's more about humanity overall. Well worth watching.

-Long

4 August 2003