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Houston Chronicle
Dark House of Mirth is no laughing matter
By ERIC HARRISON
Copyright 2001 Houston Chronicle



Gillian Anderson first appears in The House of Mirth emerging from the steam of a railroad engine. She holds her head high, and her walk -- confident, reined-in, yet sensual -- suggests a woman in control of her world.

When she meets a male friend (Eric Stoltz) at the train station and goes with him to the apartment he keeps nearby, it isn't immediately clear whether they already are lovers or soon will be, but we can tell she acknowledges few restraints on her passions, relatively speaking.

This is, after all, New York City circa 1905. Rigid codes govern social behavior, particularly in the interaction of well-born men and women. Simply accompanying Lawrence Seldon (Stoltz) to his apartment would be cause for scandal, were it known.

Lily Bart (Anderson) is 29, old for an unmarried woman, and she is known to be shopping for a husband. The attorney Seldon isn't a candidate because he isn't wealthy enough. It's a pity, because they clearly are attracted to each other. And the men who would make good matches are such bores.

Borrowing imagery from Howard Hawks' The Big Sleep, writer-director Terence Davies films the couple more than once sharing cigarettes. Sinuous ribbons of smoke swirl about their heads as they inhale deeply, stare into each other's eyes and smolder.

The film is adapted from Edith Wharton's novel, considered by some her masterpiece. Wharton also wrote The Age of Innocence, made into a movie in 1993 by Martin Scorsese. At the time, it at first seemed an odd fit -- Scorsese was known for violent gangster films, and Wharton wrote of high society.

But The House of Mirth reminds one what Scorsese saw in her work. Wharton's books are as drenched in violence as Goodfellas or Casino. And the social codes of the Cosa Nostra have nothing on New York's rich. The difference is that the characters in Wharton's novels cut with words, and they rub out enemies by ostracizing them.

Lily is careless. Her visiting Seldon's apartment showed us that. But she also gambles. Deeply in debt, she allows a married friend (Dan Aykroyd) to handle her investments. She learns later that the checks he wrote to her were from his own account. Now she is indebted to him.

Thus begins her downward spiral. When she is at her weakest, her enemies come out of hiding and pull out their blades.

The title comes from the Bible verse: "The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth" (Ecclesiastes 7:4). It almost goes without saying, then, that later in the movie we will see Lily walking once more beside a train.

This time, too, she appears at first in silhouette, only now her head is bowed. Gone is the air of confidence, the sensuous, subtle swivel of her hips. This time she walks in the rain.

This is a sumptuous-looking film, and Anderson (best known as Agent Scully from The X-Files) gives a performance as compelling and impressive as anything we've seen all year.

This film's problems lie in its ellipses. The story sometimes lurches from point A to point C, leaving us to divine rom the available evidence what has been left out.

It's fine when a movie chooses not to hold our hand and walk us step-by-step through the story, but The House of Mirth sometimes sacrifices clarity.

Grade: A-

THE END

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