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The
Hollywood Reporter No worries.
``Gosford'' is Altman's best film since ``The Player'' and one of the
best in his long career. A sharp, witty, dexterous script by Julian
Fellowes (based on an idea by Altman and actor-producer Bob Balaban)
nicely contains a huge cast and nearly as many subplots as there are
rooms in the stately home. The British,
of course, have been making this movie for years, but Altman turns familiarity
to his advantage: Needing no introduction to this deeply stratified
world, he jumps right into the human predicament of its many characters
and their interlaced lives. Altman, Balaban and Fellowes presume there
was plenty of traffic between below and above stairs, owing to lust,
schemes and betrayals. Indeed, the movie's focus gradually shifts to
below. More crucially, the viewpoint belongs there as well. When someone
remarks that his master thinks he's God Almighty, another chimes in,
"They all do.'' In November 1932, Sir William McCordle (Michael
Gambon), wife Lady Sylvia (Kristin Scott Thomas) and daughter Isobel
(Camilla Rutherford) host a shooting party. Among the guests are Lady
Sylvia's sisters, Louisa and Lavinia (Geraldine Somerville and Natasha
Wightman), and their husbands, Raymond and Lt. Cmdr. Meredith (Charles
Dance and Tom Hollander); Sir William's sister Constance (Maggie Smith);
matinee idol and songwriter Ivor Novello (Jeremy Northam); and a Hollywood
producer of Charlie Chan mysteries (Balaban) who has a constant need
to call California. (Some things never change.) Below stairs,
the ranks swell. The dignified butler, Jennings (Alan Bates), oversees
Gosford Park with the practical housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson (Helen Mirren).
First footman George (Richard E. Grant) is pure libido on the loose
(and there appears to be no end of willing maids), while Sir William's
valet (Derek Jacobi) represents the old-fashioned notion of dedicated
service. The parties and hunt mark the culmination of many developments
already in the works. Meredith, a war hero but broke, is desperate for
Sir William to invest in a business scheme. Nesbitt (James Wilby) is
blackmailing Isobel, who is being courted by Lord Standish (Laurence
Fox).Below stairs, head housemaid Elsie (Emily Watson) is conducting
a none-too-discreet affair with Sir William. Mrs. Wilson and cook Mrs.
Croft (Eileen Atkins) maintain an animosity that stretches back for
years. Weinstein's valet (Ryan Phillippe) seems not to know his place,
while a smoldering rage burns within Raymond's valet (Clive Owen). Then
a murder occurs, and an inept police inspector holder (Stephen Fry)
arrives and here the movie winks at the researching ``Charlie Chan in
London.'' Altman maintains both period and national authenticity even
as he gives the environment the well-known Altman touch overlapping
dialogue and two cameras to catch the actors' improvisational exchanges.
But this is hardly one of Altman's unstable free-for-alls. The film
feels tightly knit, with all of its pieces fitting marvelously together
as the curtain falls. The only grating slip-up is the occasional use
of American-style obscenities, which if anyone uttered in 1932 England,
he would do so in a whisper. Watson, who seemingly gets more beautiful
with each film, and Kelly Macdonald, as Constance's new maid, anchor
the below-stairs activity. Smith is in glorious form as a snob and gossip
hound who delivers every insult in the form of a compliment. Scott Thomas
is the epitome of a world-weary titled aristocrat, while Gambon is a
classic new-money monster. Mirren brings genuine emotions into a shallow
milieu. And Balaban and Northam make a nicely contrasting pair of showbiz
types, feeling their way through a world of ungentle gentility. Designer
Stephen Altman pieces the manor together from two country homes plus
a studio set for below stairs that is a marvel of hectic corridors,
stairways, work areas and tiny sleeping rooms. Cinematographer Andrew
Dunn splendidly lights these quarters and keeps his cameras flowing
so one senses the geography of manor. |