What is incalculable in human beings—thereby, summarily exempt from the feckless foibles of expectation and disappointment—becomes the cradle of what can ultimately be apprehended, respected and perhaps even loved. Or so W. Somerset Maugham suggested in his 1925 novel The Painted Veil, recently adapted for the screen by Ron Nyswaner (Philadelphia), directed by John Curran (We Don't Live Here Anymore) and starring Naomi Watts and Edward Norton, who have likewise co-produced the project.
Though Maugham's The Painted Veil has been turned into a film twice before—first in 1934 as a melodrama with Greta Garbo and then in 1957 as The Seventh Sin—this most recent adaptation is the brain child of Edward Norton, who has nurtured the project for the last six years.
Norton portrays Dr. Walter Fane, a bacteriologist who falls in love with Kitty (Naomi Watts), an upper class London socialite. Their hasty marriage is not based on reciprocal feeling. Kitty has accepted Walter's proposal primarily to escape the disapproval of her mother. It is 1925 after all and Kitty is risking becoming an old maid and a burden to her parents. Walter becomes her ticket to a new life in Shanghai, China.
Set against a backdrop of social upheaval and the breathtaking landscapes of China's Guangdong province, their unique love story evolves. Kitty, reckless and selfish, has been unfaithful to Walter, engaging in an illicit affair with Shanghai's handsome but married British vice consul, Charles Townsend (Liev Schreiber). A retaliatory Walter, hurt by his wife's indiscretion, shifts them to the remote village Mei-tan-fu under the pretext of helping out against a cholera outbreak. The decision is challenging and dangerous for both of them. Under such extreme conditions they are forced to resolve their flawed expectations.
The performances in this ensemble are provided in taut measures; mannered eloquent by way of restraint. Edward Norton—whose mirthful eye waxes expressive—manages to convey immense feeling—passionate infatuation, bitter rancor, as well as gradual reassessment. Naomi Watts shifts from a spoiled woman blinded by selfish concerns to someone whose eyes open commensurate to her heart. Their conflicted interaction set against such an exotic locale (sensuously filmed by Stuart Dryburgh) will invite easy comparisons to David Lean (Doctor Zhivago, Ryan's Daughter) and Anthony Minghella (The English Patient). It certainly is as classic—and effective—a romance as any of those.
Supporting roles are all competent. Toby Jones—released from the grip of Capote—portrays Deputy Commissioner Waddington, the Fanes' only neighbor in Mei-tan-fu. Anthony Wong Chau-Sang is statuesque as General Yu, begrudgingly setting aside differences with Walter Fane to deter the cholera epidemic. Liev Schreiber as the handsome strategist Charles Townsend forces Kitty to examine her fruitless desires.
Diana Rigg as the Mother Superior, particularly, lends so much through so little. She has always been one of my favorite actresses, ever since I was a young boy and in love with her characterization of Emma Peel in the British television series The Avengers. It's odd the moments actors provide that stay with you throughout a lifetime. When Diana Rigg left The Avengers, I recall her character descending a flight of stairs and encountering her replacement to whom she offered the key advice that John Steed (Patrick Macnee) preferred his tea stirred counterclockwise. All these years later, that has stayed with me.
The film's desultory piano accompaniment by Lang Lang accentuates the gradual awakening of unexpected grace, defined by the Mother Superior as the combination of love and duty.
Not having read W. Somerset Maugham's novel, I'm not exactly sure what he is conveying in the image of a painted veil. Does it refer to Inanna's nakedness after the seventh veil has fallen? Whether or not, the film's opening montage is a masterful superimposition of historical tableaux, bacterial activity, and floral evanescence, suggesting that beneath surface appearances, behind the incalculable, is what we must learn in order to love.
The title is meant as a reference to Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Live not the painted veil which those who live." The psonnet goes:
Lift not the painted veil which those who live
Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe
With colours idly spread,—behind, lurk Fear
And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave
Their shadows, o’er the chasm, sightless and drear.
I knew one who had lifted it—he sought,
For his lost heart was tender, things to love,
But found them not, alas! nor was there aught
The world contains, the which he could approve.
Through the unheeding many he did move,
A splendour among shadows, a bright blot
Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove
For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.
Diana, thank you so much for your educated response!! I love when the Internet works like that! I've folded Shelley's sonnet into my Evening Class review.
Lovely website, by the way.
thank you so much for this review. i'm a huge fan of naomi watts and like edward norton as an actor. i hope this film will get them both nominated for the coming oscar awards especially naomi watts given that she has been so consistently overlooked by the academy in the past. i still can't get over her being snubbed last year of her well deserved nomination for king kong, let alone for mulholland drive in 2001.
I agree with richard 100%! Naomi Watts is my favorite actress of all time. I love her so much. She blew me away in Mulholland Drive and in everything else since she is always brillant. BEST ACTRESS 2006!
I join the opinions of those who have enjoyed "The Painted Veil", and knowing where the title springs and its theme it's easy to see how well the movie's title fits its theme.
Frankly I had not been aware of Naomi Watts and interestingly enough on the same weekend that I saw "The Painted Veil" I also watched "King Kong" on the tele. Without wanting to offend anyone, least of all Naomi Watts herself, I thought her portrayal in King Kong failed to measure up to her portrayal of Kitty in the veil. Her expression in King K. pretty much stayed the same. Maybe it's just me, but her expression was more one of infatuation than compassion. She seemed more infatuated with the beast than concerned. Still I think she is beautiful and liked her very much in The Painted Veil. I liked her much more as a brunette. Her delicate features are framed and more apparent and more beautiful than as a blond.
I love this beautiful film so much that I went to read the book afterwards. I have 2 questions:
1. I know that the film's title "the Painted Veil" comes from Shelley's sonnet. But my English is not so good. Can someone tell me what it exactly means?
2. In the book, Walter, before he died, said only to Kitty, "the dog it was that died." This comes from Oliver Goldsmith's poem that talks about a good man being bitten by a mad dog. So does it mean Walter had forgiven Kitty?
Can someone enlighten me on the above? Thanks!
-----
Walter lifted the painted veil, the superficial coloring of Life, when he gave his heart to Kitty. He hoped for transformation and fulfillment, but was only shot down and disappointed, like the man in Shelley's poem.
In Goldsmith's poem, the dog bit the man and one would expect the man to die, but instead the dog did. If we look below the surface, man is the one who is rotten, not the dog. Walter was good and died, not Kitty, the selfish and cruel one. In the book by Maugham, Kitty never returns Walter's love, so his death is much poignant. I'm glad the movie gave him love at the end.