Lovely Wife Well Worth the Time
Henry DeTamble (Eric Bana) and Clare Abshire (Rachel McAdams) are in love, but that’s not so unusual. People fall in and out of love everyday, after all, their's probably no more or less special than anyone else’s. No, what makes this one unique is Henry’s predicament and Clare’s unwavering ability to accept it, the husband floating through time like a ghost unsure of where – or when – he’ll end up while the wife goes on with her linear life patiently hoping someday this odd condition will come to an end.
Eric Bana and Rachel McAdams share a tender moment in New Line Cinema's The Time Traveler's Wife
An adaptation of Audrey Niffenegger’s best-selling book written by Ghost scribe Bruce Joel Rubin, The Time Traveler’s Wife is just the type of motion picture most critics love to hate. We tend to not like feeling like we’re being emotionally manipulated, any hint of saccharine enough to get us on our high horses telling viewers to not let themselves be so easily swayed by the film’s maudlin sensationalism. Because of that romantic dramas are a tough sell. By profession, we are an inherently cynical bunch, and letting go of that cynicism is probably the most difficult thing for us to do.
Pity, because a movie like this one deserves far more adoration and acclaim than it is probably going to get. Going in I feared that director Robert Schwentke (Flightplan) would drown things in treacle, lather on the sap and play up the more syrupy layers of Niffenegger’s bracingly visceral melodrama. This scared me so much I actually avoided the press screening, only seeing the movie this morning after my curiosity to see just how poorly the book would be treated by the filmmakers got the better of me.
I almost can’t believe just how wrong I was about this one. If you want to know why I try my best to leave all preconceptions at the theater door there is no better example than The Time Traveler’s Wife. This movie is elegant and subtle, and while it is indeed highly emotional I never felt like Schwentke or Rubin were manufacturing false tears. This is not a film made with a heavy hand, the director drifting through the complex narrative in a way that had me consistently interested and engaged. In the end, I felt like I really knew Henry and Clare in a way I hadn’t after finishing the book, and if that’s not reason enough to see it right now I’m not sure what else would be.
How Rubin managed to retain the ethereal complexity of the book while somehow also streamlining it enough to work as an engaging motion picture is way beyond me. Niffenegger overlapped things so much, drifting forward and backward through time in ways that were surprising and effective, that you never knew where you were going to go next. Yet the connection between the two protagonists somehow never wavered, their bonds of love all the more stirring because of it.
The Oscar-winning writer manages to by and large duplicate the author’s trick but does so in a way that’s somewhat easier to digest. The way the film moves is superb, each scene leading to the next with a breathless ease I never anticipated. Henry’s flights into time cycle with a fluidity that’s quite beautiful, and not once did I feel like Rubin didn’t have a secure hand in crafting an easily digestible narrative.
I will say that, as with the novel, there are portions I still find slightly uncomfortable. Because of his condition Henry essentially romances Clare for his entire life, and even though his first meeting with the woman is when she’s adult that’s certainly not the case for her. She’s not even ten, and while their talks are mostly platonic the fact one half of this party nurtures this relationship so the other will fall in love with him in the future is admittedly kind of creepy.
It is because of Bana I can get over this feeling a lot easier than expected to. While I’ve always been one of the actor’s biggest champions, that’s a lot easier to do when he’s not trying to suppress his thick Aussie accent. This might be the first time I’ve felt like he is in complete control of a character start to finish where he’s playing an American, the soulfulness he brings to Henry holding me spellbound even when the plot threatened to drip into melodramatic obnoxiousness.
I wish I felt the same about McAdams. One of my favorite actresses working today, there are moments where she seems to be overdoing it a little bit, almost as if she’s not entirely confident in what the script is asking her to do. The scenes where she admits some of her worries and wants to Henry seem forced, and while the sentiments Clare admits to are genuine the way McAdams oversells them is not.
Yet the pair still possesses a magical chemistry. The early stages of their adult relationship are stunning, each step a lyrical aria hinting at the symphonic bliss to come. There is an ease to the pair, a carnal familiarity that is smooth and intoxicating. It was almost like watching two old friends waltz their way to the type of lasting love we like to dream everyone gets to experience, our happiness in seeing them achieve it only masked by our slight worry that Henry’s affliction could potentially shatter it to bits.
Mychael Danna’s ((500) Days of Summer) divine score manages to offer a perfect assist to the proceedings, while Florian Ballhaus’s (Definitely, Maybe) lush cinematography reflects all that is going on without ever calling too much attention to itself. Schwentke balances everything with confidence, the pieces falling into place almost as if by the sheer strength of the director’s will.
I am supposed to be angry that this film is engineered as if to exclusively make me cry; I am supposed to pounce on the fact that it wears its emotional machinations proudly on its sleeve. But that directive is coming from the critical cynical side, not from a place based in whether or not Schwentke’s effort succeeds at all it sets out to do. As this beautiful movie does just that I’m not about to come down negatively. Just the opposite, and like the stories I remember being told as a child The Time Traveler’s Wife is a enduring tale of love and longing I can’t wait to return to again.
Film Rating: êêê1/2 (out of 4)
Additional Links
