Afterglow Review
by "David N. Butterworth" (dnb AT mail DOT med DOT upenn DOT edu)February 28th, 1998
AFTERGLOW
A film review by David N. Butterworth
Copyright 1998 David N. Butterworth
**1/2 (out of ****)
Alan Rudolph has such an uncanny ability to establish mood that it often doesn't seem to matter just how excessively stylized his sets are, how overwritten his dialogue is, or how inconsistently his actors perform. His latest film, "Afterglow," has some problems in each of these departments yet there's something about the film--and Rudolph's body of work in general--that affects you emotionally, leaving how much you might actually enjoy the experience a secondary consideration.
"Afterglow" focuses on two couples who are on the outs. Marianne and Jeffrey Byron (played by Lara Flynn Boyle and Jonny Lee Miller) are in conflict over the decision to have a child. Phyllis and Lucky Mann (Julie Christie and Nick Nolte) share a mutual dissatisfaction because of complications surrounding having *had* one.
Lucky is a handyman whose job often finds him flat on his back checking out some frustrated housewife's plumbing (pun intended). He's recommended to Marianne, who wants a room remodeled for the kid she hasn't quite conceived yet. Marianne's coquetteishness in Lucky's presence is understandable; what woman watching Nick Nolte ripping down drywall wouldn't want to bear his child?
Jeffrey, a successful executive, still seems interested in women--he's always telling his middle-aged, French-speaking secretary how attractive she looks--just not in the diaphanous Marianne.
Maybe it's an older woman thing.
When Jeffrey suspects Marianne of infidelity (it's pretty obvious; she scrawls details of an illicit rendezvous with Lucky on her calendar) he heads to the hotel bar to confront her, only to stumble upon Phyllis--there to spy on her philandering husband for purely masochistic reasons--and their brief, mismatched flirtation begins. The foursome eventually wind up at the Byron's beyond-mod Montreal apartment in a finale that would make Mike Leigh proud.
Nolte and Christie sparkle in "Afterglow," the latter in that very dry, British way. A faded star of B-movies, Phyllis lounges on the sofa all day watching her awful films on television with a large gin at the ready. Weary, pathetic, and depressed, Phyllis seeks solace for a pain she can't erase. This is a plumb role for Christie; her recent screen performances have been few and far between but when she does accept a part, it's usually worth seeing (she received an Academy Award nomination for this one). Nolte has hardly made a bad movie (well, let's say that he's hardly turned in a bad *performance*) and he and Christie easily overshadow Boyle and Miller, who seem out of their depth compared to the two veterans.
Boyle displays the same kind of mousy petulance she demonstrated in Rudolph's "Equinox" and TV's "Twin Peaks." Perhaps Rudolph simply asked for "more of the same." He got it; Marianne is more annoying than alluring. Miller's role seems to call for two modes of operation--awkward and stiff--which limit the actor's emotional range. He looks the part, and downs scotch with all the elegance of a youthful corporate climber, but when it comes to his Big Scene, awkward and stiff just don't cut it. No wonder Phyllis trots off to bed. Alone.
Uneven in the acting department, "Afterglow" is nevertheless worth recommending. It's not as well written as "Welcome to L.A." or "Choose Me," and it's not as atmospheric as "Trouble In Mind" or "The Moderns" (Rudolph pictures all). But as a showcase for Nolte and Christie--especially Christie--it's splendid, and carries an emotional punch right to the bitter end.
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David N. Butterworth
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Originally posted in the rec.arts.movies.reviews newsgroup. Copyright belongs to original author unless otherwise stated. We take no responsibilities nor do we endorse the contents of this review.
