Thanks to a French DVD I was able to see again a film I saw in Paris in the late 1980's. I thought it a mess then, but on seeing it again I realised just how much I disliked it. I will not go into the politics of the book or the intention of adapting it to the screen by Wajda. It is what is there on the screen that matters. It is hysterical in the worst way possible, and played like an amateur dramatic company totally out of control. Isabelle Huppert came to life for the little time she was on the screen ( her entrance in a silly hat and round glasses was risible, but as soon as she had taken both off she performed admirably ). Not one of the other actors came anywhere near her and spent most of their time having to mouth the ranting dialogue. Stavrogin as played by Lambert Wilson was a disappointment, but then again ' demonic ' music seemed to accompany him with every entrance. As for the others they either over-acted or played as being ' saintly '. The ending to ' holy ' music was maudlin beyond belief, and certainly was not as Dostoyevsky had written it. In my opinion it should have been made in Russian and not in French, but even then I feel Wajda would have failed. A cold film ruined by melodrama.
