REVIEW: THE BEGUILED

"I'm wild again,
beguiled again,
a simpering, whimpering child again..."

goes the 1940 show tune from the musical "Pal Joey. Going into this movie, to be shamefully honest, I was more familiar with the director's body of work than the actual title. Sofia Coppola was one of the filmmakers I studied this past year in college for my Film Studies minor. Distinctive in her slow burning, female-centric film style, Coppola's been called an auteur director, and if she keeps making movies like these, I'll be on my path to forgiving her for Godfather III and that unfunny Bill Murray Christmas special from a couple years ago.

"Beguiled" basically means smitten, but said in the 1864 Virginian (represent!!!) accent, it's a much more fun synonym to say. Of course, no one actually says the word on film, it's not Coppola's style to be that on the nose. But the term is certainly written on the faces of the women in Miss Farnsworth's girls school, which is mostly vacated. Farnsworth herself (Nicole Kidman) is the film's symbol of repression, a beautiful woman hidden under the oppressive dress of the era with an absent sense of humor and overwhelming hints of repression. It's no coincidence the women, including fellow teacher Edwina Morrow (Kirsten Dunst), blossoming adult Alicia (Elle Fanning) and lovingly naive Amy (Oona Laurence, whose performance hasn't been talked about enough) wear white. When Yankee soldier Corporal McBurney (Colin Farrall) limps his way back to the girls' school with Amy's help, the pent-up girls begin loosening up. But then things take a fall...

At her least interesting, I wanted to fast forward through Lost in Translation and The Bling Ring, not because they were terrible movies, but to alleviate the agony of the molasses pace. In this film, it unfolds beautifully. I was surprised to see no one adapted The Beguiled into a play, because the film's minimal setting of location and characters could easily lend itself to a stage version. But Phillipe Le Sourd's muted cinematography perfectly compliments the quiet, if spooky southern plantation house. Especially for Dunst's Edwina, who itches to be away from this isolated world. McBurney is a completely neutral agent for the better first half of the movie; he gets attributed traits from the psychology from each woman. To repressed Alicia, he's a heartthrob, to Edwina, he's an escape, to Farnsworth, he provides needed levity into her tightly restricted world. Because of the lack of a huge ensemble, no actor can afford to feel out of place, and they don't. Kidman is a great foil to Dunst, Fanning (though her role isn't that sizable here) is fast developing into one of indie's greatest talents, and I think this might be the best I've seen Farrall since In Bruges. There's no fast-talking Irishman here, just a very layered man who begins to show his true character much later in the movie.

At only a little over 90 minutes, the film snuck up on me how fast it went, and through seeing much of Coppola's filmography, let me just say that that...is not typically the case. There's no gimmicks here, just honest, straightforward storytelling that pays off after the slow burn of introducing McBurney to the school. I was informed that the trailer to this lets on a little too much, so I would avoid it if possible before going in. If the studio had a little more faith it could've been a contender for the Oscars if a November release date had been planned, but I still think the Academy should consider this film when they're filling out their ballots, because the ending has definitely burned itself into my memory.

Rating: 3.5/4 stars

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