st. Max von Sydow, Ethan Hawke, Youki Kudoh, Rick Yune
scr. Scott Hicks, Ron Bass; based on the book by David Guterson
USA, 130 min, rated M
"The book was bad, the film has to be worse".
Such was the logic of my mantra as I was dragged into a screening of Snow Falling on Cedars. Coupled with this was a recollection of disappointment with Hicks's Shine. Hype aplenty for Shine and particularly slick marketing in the case of Guterson's novel of 1994 meant that both nagged at the discerning populace such that consumption became almost obligatory.Copies of Snow Falling on Cedars were stocked in bookshops by the hundred, and hummed incessantly from their glossy cardboard hives at shop entrances for months. Such glowing review bites, and what a nice cover! Those dark wintry trees through a haze of snow, an idyll evoking all manner of mysterious visions and fantasies. What foul treachery could possibly lurk behind this scene?
The novel on which this film is based faltered from the first chapter and built its irritatingly self-conscious prose through a crescendo of blandness to a resounding whimper of a finish. I felt so cheated by its literary posturing that I took the unusual step of venting my fury in a review on amazon.com. You only have to look at the new now-a-major-motion-picture edition for a second to find heinous crimes of marketing deception; on the back cover are the usual laudatory review quotations, including one from the New York Times: "Compelling... flawlessly written". Open the inside cover, to the "Acclaim for..." pages, and find a subtly different, but all revealing quote from the same publication: "Compelling ... a flawlessly written first novel." Aha! They don't even try to hide their verbal manipulations. Give Guterson credit, it's a good first effort, but don't call it perfect or literature or anything. His story, weaving the threads of cultural hatred, small-town court room drama, and star-crossed love - set immediately before and during WWII- is noble and clear in its purpose, but is persistently betrayed by Guterson's clumsy style.
As for Shine, by the time I saw it, Geoffrey Rush was in more places at once than Ronald McDonald, and a circus act had been made of David Helfgott who was touring the world giving performances of Rachmaninov's 3rd Piano Concerto and Flight of the Bumble Bee to audiences mesmerised by his mistakes and embarrassed at their gullibility in swallowing the hype. I didn't dislike Shine, but – call me weak minded - my expectation had been pumped so high that disappointment was virtually assured. (Plus, I did think Rush's muttering Helfgott sounded just like Mr Squiggle, which proved a distraction throughout).
This being my attitude, I was very pleased to find myself enthralled by Scott Hicks's adapation of Snow Falling on Cedars. Deficiencies in Guterson's expressive repertoire are overcome in this rich adaptation. Hicks, as director and co-screenwriter has taken the kernel of the novel and given it the mood and impact that Guterson couldn't deliver. It surges with emotive energy from start to finish.
In a small seaside community, a Japanese-American fisherman stands accused of killing a fellow fisherman; an Anglo-American. His trial takes place during a climate of brooding cultural tension due to the war being waged by Japan in the pacific. Despite being long time residents, the village's Japanese population is now considered a security risk, and racial prejudice rears its ugly head. Friendships are strained. The Japanese suffer gross humiliations. Many are trucked off to labour camps, the scenes of which are a brave albeit fleeting inclusion considering some Americans' stars'n'stripes view of their behaviour in WWII.
Ethan Hawke is back doing the tentative guy we liked in Dead Poets Society and an ageing Max von Sydow, playing a defence lawyer, is commanding as the film's moral conscience. The defendant, Kazuo (Rick Yune) and his wife Hatsue (Youki Kudoh) bring a measure of Japanese elegance and strength to this well matched cast. My single complaint is that the musical score was occasionally obtrusive. For a film with almost constant musical accompaniment this is no great scar. It's not often you can say: forget the book - the film is the superior experience. In David Guterson's own words after seeing it for the first time "There is not one thing about the movie that could be any better". Not quite true, but I rest my case...
david bull
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