Anna Karenina
More moustaches and princesses than Super Mario
Released: 7 September 2012
Director: Joe Wright
Cast: Keira Knightley, Jude Law, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Kelly
MacDonald, Matthew Macfadyen, Domnhall Gleeson, Alicia Vikander
Plot: Russia, 1874. Anna Karenina (Knightley) travels to Moscow to talk her sister in law out of leaving her husband (Madfadyen). Whilst at a ball, she meets Count Vronsky (Taylor-Johnson), who catches her eye, much to the dislike of her well established husband Alexei Karenin (Law). What happens next may turn Anna's life on its well polished heels.
THOUGH at
first Joe Wright’s adaptation of Anna Karenina may appear to be a Russian Pride and Prejudice – Knightley pouts,
straight sitting, corset- constricted women aplenty – it sets itself apart from
his previous ventures into period drama by heralding the title of his best film
yet. Tolstoy’s work is done more than justice here – all eight volumes compacted
superbly into 130 minutes, bringing to life the elements of the novel, rather
than retelling it visually. What Wright manages to accomplish is an Aronofsky-
like sense of style. A ballroom dance scene has the camera fleeting around the
dance floor, cutting increasingly quickly as the music and tension does,
Oblonsky’s workforce stamp rhythmically, and farmers cut crops like
synchronized dancers. The film constantly oozes with visceral brilliance.
This is predominantly due to Wright’s choice to capture
the entire film’s events within the confines of a theatre – trading in
beautiful countryside for artificial backdrops and turf. Perhaps the most
memorable scene is that of a horse race which takes place inside the
auditorium, championing symbolism over realism. Though to untrained eyes and
minds this arguably creates a surreal aurora, its artistic payoff is worth the
oddity it creates. To Tolstoy fans that are aware of his apparent disregard for
theatre and its architects, this may indeed seem an odd choice to have been
made – however, Anna Karenina’s original linguistic substance is more than
deserving of a suitable aesthetic counterpart, and this can be found in
Wright’s work. The mise-en-scene is amplified by the use of stage lighting,
inventive cinematography (as experienced in Hanna)
and immaculate supporting roles.
One of the film’s standout performances is that of Jude
Law’s take on Alexei Karenin, the troubled, cuckolded and moralistic husband of
Anna, whose situation the audience is most sympathetic with. At first adopting a nature too accepting (by today’s
standards), his character comes to life as the story progresses, whilst the
strength of character seen in Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s Count Vronsky diminishes
as time goes on. Perhaps the most enjoyable character is that of Oblonsky
(Macfadyen, another Wright regular), who enjoys aristocratic life to the full,
swanning in and out of his overcoat as his employees place it upon him and
becoming the sole carrier of any comic relief to be had from a largely tragic
narrative. This relief, though, is short lived before the drama kicks back
heavily, and the audience is thrust back to the mercy of an enthralling script.
Thus, Macfadyen is enjoyed few times and far between. A star-studded cast packs
no punches, either – the likes of Domnhall Gleeson and Kelly Macdonald shining
examples here.
Where it falters every so slightly is in its great
expanse of source material. As is with many literary adaptations, much must be
left out. Unfortunately for Anna
Karenina, this sacrifice is rooted in lack of character exploration: there
are many rich, engaging characters that don’t receive the screen time they are
due. In the film’s defence, however, the drama between the more prominent roles
provides enough gratification to counteract this.
Verdict: Wright
takes the beauty of Tolstoy’s writing and throws in some artistic flare of his
own, marking his best work yet. An indulging, articulate piece of cinema worthy
of its author. ★★★★
