Julia and Julia

I'm a lifelong suspense/mystery fan, I do not enter this realm ill-prepared.

Consequently, when I write that "Julia and Julia" is a very special film, I do not do so ill-advised. Our friend Alfred Hitchcock would have envied this fascinating, morbid tale of love found, tragically lost, yet found and lost again. And again. Serving as a hyper-psychological "thriller", it is far above simply that. Argueably, there is no strict filmic category for it. The story is of a woman's life after having lost her husband in a car crash on their honeymoon. It's also about a woman who chooses to have an illicit, extramarital affair with a perfect stranger. It's also about...well...you should decide for yourself. Direction and writing are both truly sublime. It is surreal, the viewer is left pondering aghast until the end, indeed way beyond. From a devout Hitchcockian, Julia and Julia is forever one of my all-time favorite movies.

I found this film much like "Sliding Doors" in which Gywneth Paltrow found herself wondering should she have caught the train or missed the train? In this film, Kathleen Turner wonders if her husband really died or did she imagine the whole thing?

The film begins with Turner as a bride marrying Gabriel Byrne. Unfortunately, after the wedding dinner, they drive off into the sunset and into the path of a truck. The car overturns and Byrne dies ... or did he?

Turner grieves pitifully for her groom. And begins a journey into two worlds...one in which she is still married to Byrne and has a young son opposed to one life in which she is a widow working as a travel agent who makes the acquaintance of a very, sexy Sting (Gordon Sumner). Ladies, if you don't enjoy this film, please fast forward to Sting lying on the bed nude...worth the view! (smile)

Kathleen Turner is notable; Rotunno's photography is mesmerising; and Jarre's score is pleasing. Even their combined contribution does not lift up the film to any great heights.

It is interesting that Rotunno's work in so many films other than those of Fellini has often not been noticed.

At the heart of the story is Juliet's gliding back and forth between parallel realities and parallel destinies. The script resolves the ending very elegantly, when I'm a bit lost as to which version of life we are in. This is typically a story that inspires me, makes me think. I wonder if the other Juliet experienced things in a similar way on the other side? Or: I should write a novel in which the two characters leave a diary to each other, and help each other this way.

Another thought: Sting plays a very aggressive character. It's very odd today, repulsive, but I don't think the metoo has done away with this male type as an ideal.

The film doesn't delve into anything deep, but maybe that's why it manages to remain inspiring. It leaves room for the imagination.

Shooting an entire feature on high-definition (circa 1987) video may have saved the producers a few bucks, but you get what you pay for: in this case a technically shoddy, low-key melodrama with little to recommend it besides an offbeat cast. It was presented at the time as a technological breakthrough, but it's safe to say there were still a few bugs to be worked out of the process: in the late 1980s high-definition video still equaled low-definition film, and the eyesore of too many blurred movements distracts attention away from the story itself. Which may be a blessing in disguise, because the story is just an extended Twilight Zone episode, portentous to the point of self-parody, about a widow of six years who shifts between her lonely life and an alternate reality where her husband is alive, along with the child she never had. Has she suddenly awakened from six years of retroactive amnesia, or is she only hallucinating? The film (can we call it that?) was a big hit in Italy, so maybe it suffers in translation.