Saturday, December 27, 2003

My HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG review.



My review of HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG, which I've posted on Amazon and below, is a lot like Ebert's, which I didn't read until after I'd written mine.

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HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG, directed by first-time filmmaker Vadim Perelman from a screenplay he helped adapt from an Andre Dubus novel, is a story of people who are only at conflict because they see their troubles and desperation as tantamount over those who oppose them. The fight in the film concerns a seaside house and what it represents to those who claim ownership over it.

To Kathy Nicolo, a recovering alcoholic mourning her father while coming to terms with her husband's desertion, the house represents security. It gives her a place where she can hide as she copes with her troubles. The house, it seems, cares for her more than she cares for it. She, who has yet to admit to anyone that her husband has left her and doesn't tell her problems to even her closest family because they've essentially stopped listening to her, also sees the house as her sole responsibility to her family. It belongs, at the beginning of the film, to her and her brother. It was left to them.

But because her home county has mistakenly levied a business tax against her and she failed to pay it (for she thought the matter had been taken care of - and she stopped opening her mail after her husband left), she is evicted in the opening scenes of the film. Homeless and desperate, she places an almost singular focus on getting back her house, and, as a result, she associates with some questionable people and feels as though she's losing control over everything. Since she didn't have a very firm grasp over her life at the beginning of the film, it's not hard to see why she makes the choices she does.

Opposing Kathy's claim over the house is Behrani, who also holds a valid, legal claim over the bungalow and has his own reasons for keeping it. Behrani, in the film's opening scenes, is delivering a speech at the elaborate, expensive wedding of his daughter. Though it appears to everyone in attendance that Behrani, an Iranian immigrant who was once a powerful colonel in the army of the Sikh, is rich and important, his double-life is quickly revealed to the audience. He's living a life he cannot afford, working two menial jobs to fund his family's appearance of a lavish life. His wife, at the beginning of the film, cares so greatly for the furniture that they have that she scrubs it daily, taking great care of their possessions. Her chief concern, it appears, is to return to the lifestyle they were accustomed to, caring for their children the best way possible.

Behrani, finding the house auction listed, purchases it for a bargain-basement price and then quits one of his jobs. Fixing up the bungalow and adding features to it, he almost immediately raises the house's value. It needs to be an investment so that he can justify leaving employment, care for his family and remain out-of-debt. Besides, the house reminds him and his family of the life they once had, the life they feel they deserve. He is not a bad man. He wants to appear strong for both his family and his community. He puts the house up for sale at the new, appraised value so that he can save his family. And when the county seeks to correct its error regarding Kathy's situation, it will only offer him the amount he paid for it - not the amount he needs.

So the movie establishes a conflict where neither side outweighs the other, and neither side is entirely wrong. Anti-American and racial sentiments fuel the conflict, and the film acknowledges that - but this isn't just a film about racism.

It's about characters whose very natures we come to understand. It, through its visuals and through the uniformly terrific ensemble of actors, also establishes a group of strong core characters, people that you empathize with so much that you cannot choose sides regarding the fight over the house.

But, because both sides are desperate and at an impasse, the entire film spirals, like a thriller, toward its tragic, nearly inevitable conclusion. (Certainly, in real life, things might not have turned out as bad as things did for these characters at the end, some might say. But the characters in HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG remain true to their natures, true to their flaws, so it ends the way that it does and feels right.)

Jennifer Connelly is terrific in this film. Ron Eldard, playing a character central to the dark turn the film takes, is impressive, making his character so despicable that you hate him, knowing the conclusions he'll jump to before he does. (The last film that generated this sort of response from me was A SIMPLE PLAN, where you could feel that the characters were going to screw up - yet you couldn't help but watch them do it.)

Ben Kingsley, who is British and yet is able to transform himself completely in every role, is absolutely amazing as Behrani. The layers of innate goodness, personal pride, potential for violence and paternal instinct necessary to make the character work are all on display here. Kingsley's work is always good, and HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG ranks among the best work he's ever done. The actors playing his wife and son in the film match Kingsley's brilliance in nearly every scene.

I'm amazed Vadim Perelman has never made a film before. This film is accomplished, sad and incredibly moving.

A previous film based on a Dubus work, IN THE BEDROOM, showed how an unexpected tragedy could turn people into singularly motivated, desperate, angry creatures, capable of anything. In HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG, the characters face similar transformations out of necessity. Yet it isn't profound tragedy that causes people to change in HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG. The characters change in this film because they need a place of security.

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