The 800-900 page novel,
depending on which version you have, tells the story of Anna (Keira Knightley),
a socialite in her late twenties who is seemingly contentedly married to an
intensely moral high-ranking government official, Karenin (Jude Law). Her life,
and Russian society as a whole, however, is thrown into chaos when she meets
and falls for a dashing young cavalry officer, Count Vronsky (Aaron
Taylor-Johnson). Although the novel discusses everything from agricultural
processes to balls and hunting parties and has several subplots involving Levin
(Domhnall Gleeson), Kitty (Alicia Vikander), Kitty’s sister Dolly (Kelly
Macdonald) and her husband Oblonsky (Matthew Macfayden) who ALSO happens to be
Anna’s brother, Stoppard’s screenplay does a remarkable job of compressing
their various attitudes, actions and relationships into a 130-minute running
time.
Director Wright, who made his name with period adaptations Pride and Prejudice and Atonement, which both starred Knightley, was obviously wary of treading the same path again, and the decision he made to set almost the entire film in a run-down theatre is a bold, inspired and ironic one, considering that Tolstoy generally hated the theatre. It makes several appearances in the novel as a place where the upper-set gathers to socialise as much as watch the acting or operatic performances, and here it highlights the artificiality (much of the Russian nobility’s manners and conventions were learnt from the French) and disloyalty of their lives, notably in a ball scene where the women silently and audibly judge Anna behind her back for her carrying on with Vronsky – because she “broke the rules”, she must be cast out of her social circles. At other times throughout the film, backdrops rise, people scurry about in the wings and above the stage, extras on a dancefloor freeze in place as Anna and Vronsky whirl through and around them in one of Wright’s signature long takes and, indeed, his direction throughout the first third of the film as the scenes are set is filled with verve and style, tapering off as the plot progresses. However, although there is much to admire, the technique nevertheless has the effect of distancing the viewer and keeping them at arm’s length – perhaps it is its intention that we identify with Levin, the only character we see leaving the theatre to return home to his land and in search of a “real” life.
We focus, then, on the
performances, which are as naturalistic as we have come to expect. At the risk
of sounding unfair given that most of the character development and changes are
described internally rather than externally in the novel, Knightley, tasked
with conveying the variety of emotions and conflicts that Anna experiences over
its course, does her best but just falls short. Taylor-Johnson, who was
fantastic in his breakthrough, Nowhere
Boy, as John Lennon, has been rather underwhelming since, and his Vronsky
comes across as an arrogant, conceited schoolboy (which is more or less how he
comes across in real life) rather than a charming, Rhett Butler-esque cad. When
the two need you to be moved, they ultimately fail and, for a film presenting itself
as a love story, this is fatal. Law, Macdonald, Vikander, Gleeson and Macfayden
are far better, the first four providing levity (with Gleeson’s gradually-blossoming
relationship with Vikander far more touching than that between Anna and Vronsky),
while Macfayden performs well as the film’s comic relief.
Although Knightley and
Taylor-Johnson make for an unconvincing central pair, the skill of the
supporting cast coupled with Tom Stoppard’s almost flawless script as well as
Joe Wright’s daring and innovative directorial decisions make this a whirlwind,
intoxicating adaptation of Anna Karenina.
4/5
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