成为朱莉娅 Being Julia review by Rex Roberts

Being Julia has all the trappings of a well-made movie-elegant sets and costumes, lustrous cinematography, attractive people flaunting social convention-yet it feels impressionistic, as though the filmmakers were more interested in good gossip than tight narrative. This seems true to the spirit of W. Somerset Maugham's novel Theatre, which, as its title suggests, sought to convey the frippery and foibles of London's West Enders in the late 1930s.

The story revolves around forty-something actress Julia Lambert (Annette Bening) and her impresario husband, Michael (Jeremy Irons). The Lamberts have a professional marriage, grounded in affection and admiration for each other and tolerant of flirtations and affairs. Julia, however, has fallen into a funk. Always on, as it were, she has lost sight of her real self. And despite her undoubted talent, she fears she is losing her looks and charm. In short, she is having increasing difficulty maintaining the fa?ade which camouflages her aging body and jaded spirit.

During a particularly vulnerable phase, Julia is introduced by Michael to a young American admirer, Tom (Shaun Evans), who boldly makes love to her. Flattered by the attention of an attractive man half her age, she falls madly in lust, her passion spilling over onto the stage. Suddenly, Julia is acting like a giddy ingnue, and living like one, too, idling away afternoons in her boyfriend's walk-up garret and dancing away evenings at decadent clubs where celebrities enjoy anonymity for a price.

Predictably, Tom's ardor fades, sending Julia into a panic. Worse, he arrogantly assumes she will help her replacement, Avice (Lucy Punch), land a plum role in Michael's latest comedy. Adding injury to insult, Michael is conducting an affair with Avice, suggesting that he has been using Tom to manipulate his wife all along. The whole business deflates Julia, who agrees to help Avice, striking a pose of knowing sophistication to disguise her humiliation. In fact, she has decided to use Avice to mount a revenge tragedy of her own, one she plans to unveil when the curtain rises on what will be her greatest performance.

Oscar-winners István Szab? (Mephisto) and Ronald Harwood (The Pianist) manage this busy narrative adroitly, turning what could have been a complicated melodrama into a character study that benefits from the slow build-up of small but telling scenes. Few filmmakers could pull off such a neat trick, spinning out a crackling good yarn while recreating, and gently satirizing, a social milieu. An ensemble cast featuring Juliet Stevenson, Miriam Margolyes and Maury Chaykin provides the inevitable upstairs-downstairs elements-the loyal maid, the Sapphic dowager, the sodden playwright-with Michael Gambon hamming it up as Julia's ghostly muse.

Being Julia, however, belongs to Bening. She makes the most of the role-an Oscar nomination is guaranteed-so much so that the rest of the cast, including the formidable Irons, can only be described as supporting. The beauty of her performance is her willingness to be unbeautiful…to be caught, as it were, without her mask. In an age when actors spend more time in the makeup trailer than before the camera, it's refreshing to watch one reveal herself.

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