BY: debbie lynn elias
Another reason to promote literacy comes to the big screen this week in the form of “White Oleander” – Hollywood’s latest attempt to take a powerfully written and moving novel and turn it into a shallow, movie-of-the-week version of its original self. And no wonder. Director Peter Kosminsky, in making his first real leap to the big screen after some 15 years of intermittently directing telemovies, is unfortunately not up to the task at hand, giving us a product one would expect to see on Lifetime, not one that requires payment for an admission ticket. Also a disappointment is the screenplay by Mary Agnes Donoghue. Best known for taking “Beaches” from book to script, she not only misses a lot of the intricacies of “White Oleander” but brightens up the darker aspects and emotions, taking away a lot of the inner turmoil of the characters, leaving us with a script that is shallow and lacking in the genuine emotional depth and impact of the book itself. As a result, instead of a potentially great film, we are left with one that is just so-so.
For those that haven’t read Janet Finch’s novel, “White Oleander” is the story of evil mother Ingrid who spends her life making her daughter Astrid’s life a living hell – even while behind bars. Yes, it seems that Ingrid has a bit of a mean streak in her and kills her boyfriend because he had a date with someone else using, you guessed it, White Oleander, resulting in Astrid’s becoming a statistic in the foster care system. Bouncing from foster mother to foster mother, Astrid has difficulties with them all. They, of course, all have difficulties with Astrid. But then Ingrid has issues with everybody.
But this film isn’t all about the girls. We’ve got men cheating on girlfriends (and word of warning to the guys out there – this is why one ends up dead – and you all that I was joking all these years about the uses of oleander!), mean cheating on live-in girlfriends with minors and men cheating on wives, driving one wife to commit suicide. Okay – tell us something we don’t already know. Men are morons and women either go on weepy suffering crying binges or become evil vindictive bitches. Oh yea, and the biggest surprise of all – there will always be mother-daughter conflicts as long as there are mothers and daughters, be they related by birth, adoption or foster care.
Although the film plays like a series of soap opera episodes strung together, all is not lost. Alison Lohman goes through more character changes in one film than many actors do during their career. But the key here is that she does it brilliantly, playing off the characterization of each foster mother; one, an alcoholic/cokehead/topless dancer who was saved by Jesus by still looks like a two bit hooker; the second, an actress living the good life in the sun and fun of Malibu who just wants a friend, not a daughter, and of course, the pick of the litter, the female version of Dicken’s Fagin from Oliver Twist, only this one is Russian, dressed like a gypsy and works a booth at Venice Beach while she lets her foster kids scrounge in dumpsters. (It pains me to say it, but even my mother with all of her idiosyncracies doesn’t come close to any of these creatures; okay, well maybe Ingrid.) Colorful characters? Interesting characters? You bet. Unfortunately for us, Kosminsky loses a lot of that color when going from paper to film. He does, however, retain the essence of each and uses that to show Astrid’s metamorphosis over the years as she tries to find out who she is and come to grips with herself and life. It also works well in further establishing the relationship between Astrid and Ingrid and their lifelong power struggle, the latter of whom will do anything to the contrary of what her daughter thinks or wants.
Robin Wright Penn and Renee Zellweger, of course, are excellent, the latter of whom seems more at ease in her role than any of our other leading women. But it is Michelle Pfeiffer who stands out among the veterans, giving a steely and often, anger filled performance as Ingrid. Although probably one of the top five performances of her career, I must confess that I am a bit tired of seeing her in these darker roles. We know she can act and is a fine dramatic actress. We don’t need anymore convincing. Let’s see her have some fun again. There’s something unnatural about having someone as beautiful as her convicted for murder and behind bars, yet perfectly groomed with glowing skin and hair. Last time I checked, Adrienne Arpel hadn’t opened any salons within the prison system and Avon wasn’t making jail calls.
