The Dying Gaul

"The Dying Gaul" feels like an updated "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" set in Hollywood instead of academia. But it gradually veers towards "Fatal Attraction" as the opening jabs at commercial film-making, with lots of name and title dropping that seem to be writer Craig Lucas's revenge on compromises he made for his successful "Prelude to a Kiss," give way to catastrophic psychological manipulation.

The initial Hollywood commentary is emphasized through the settings, as the movie producer, Campbell Scott, and his ex-writer/liberal activist/household and children manager wife, Patricia Clarkson, live in an extraordinary house with a rippling pool and ocean view. Their financial success is wielded like a weapon as the camera restlessly swoops around all their possessions, household help and scenic property. The emotional price he's paid for this is clear as Scott's "Jeffrey" could be in "Glengarry Glen Ross" (to drop film titles like he does) as he'll clearly do anything to seal a deal.

Peter Sarsgaard drives on to the studio lot and into their lives with a completely different character from his four other released films this year, with inflections and body language that only occasionally get a bit too flamboyant as affectations of an out gay writer discussing issues of sexuality in the movies and his late lover. His grief and need for human warmth is so palpable that it is even believable that after failing with psychological counseling and Buddhism to deal with it, he clutches at what used to be called spiritualism, here delivered through the internet, shown visually both in the written word and the actors talking to the camera like reading aloud from their computer screens, edited effectively in the best key scenes with real life.

Clarkson is wonderful as she morphs from busy housewife lounging in a fetching bikini, to curious dabbler in the dark side, to woman scorned and revengeful manipulator. She may be the Ultimate Scary Mother, sexy, maternal and controlling, who while distraught over violent video games goes after the psyche. Unusually for how such a triangle has been portrayed in films (and the film is specifically set in 1995 as perhaps a more innocent time), we also get brief, sympathetic insight on another woman similarly affected by the writer's selfish actions that puts Clarkson's "Elaine" in perspective as she could have been portrayed as more of a brittle harpy. But each character alternately attracts and repels us.

In his directing debut Lucas does not well serve his own script, adapted from his play, as it could have been a lot tauter in exploring the slippery slope of ethics in human relationships, that all it takes is that one small step to deceive or keep secrets before one falls into the well. There could have been a lot fewer arty scenes in silhouette, at sunset, across water.

The Steve Reich music throughout becomes more irritating than tension-inducing.

While the title has something to do with the writer's long monologue about the significance of the Roman sculpture as an artist's way to make victims sympathetic, one is left here more with the feeling that these three folks deserve each other, though the collateral damage left in their wake is a tragedy.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film. Mr. Lucas directed a very cinematic version of his stage play, and assembled an outstanding cast. Peter Sarsgaard, Campbell Scott and particularly Patricia Clarkson, give layered, complex, award-worthy performances.

This film reminds me of another along the same genre, American Beauty, which also examined difficult and complex relationships, and attempted to do so with both humor and pathos.

Because this film is part thriller, part black comedy, part searing emotional drama, it had me going on many levels.

Again, Patricia Clarkson should be praised highly for her ability to make the reactions of her character so real! I have not always been a Craig Lucas fan, as I sometimes find his work to be a bit preachy (Prelude to a Kiss), but with this film, and his obvious director's eye, I look forward to his next effort.

I just saw this at the Seattle Film Festival, Peter Saarsgard was there to answer questions. The movie is extremely watchable for the first half of the way through, is built on a fascinating premise with interesting characters (a bisexual movie producer and his wife who reside in a Lifestyles of the Rich And Famous type beachside modern mansion, a young gay writer whose lover has died of AIDS), and builds to a pitch of extreme suspense. After that, however, the plot stumbles and the film's conclusion turns on a series of unbelievable events. I thought since the movie was based on a play, the plot would be clear, but it's almost as if the movie version was forced to cut out some important sequences, as there is never quite enough information about 1) how the woman obtains all her inside information on the writer, 2) how the writer's ex-wife was related to the characters and 3) most importantly, what happens to the characters at the end of the movie.

I went into the bathroom after the movie and joined a lineup of women who were also asking each, "What exactly happened there?" --- when it's not clear it's a sign of unclear movie-making.

Suppose you had intimate knowledge about someone, and that someone did not know that you knew. How would you use that knowledge? Or would you? This issue is the undercurrent that carries the film's plot, like a fast moving stream, over a cliff, to a swirling, uncontrollable emotional vortex that changes people's lives forever.

Set in modern Los Angeles, a grieving gay screenwriter named Robert (Peter Sarsgaard) meets with Jeffrey (Campbell Scott), a wealthy film producer, to talk about Robert's script "The Dying Gaul", a tribute to his deceased lover and soul mate. Jeffrey invites Robert to his mansion by the ocean to meet his wife Elaine (Patricia Clarkson), who reads Robert's script and loves it. Over time, Robert and Elaine become friends, which sets up a triangular relationship that careens out of control when the anonymity of internet chat rooms provides cover for the discovery of secrets.

Artsy in tone and philosophy, the film exudes New Age dialogue, with conversation about Buddhist Karma, "the middle way", enlightenment, and deadly plant roots. The film's production design is chic. And while the color cinematography is mostly conventional, sometimes it is beautifully stylistic. I really liked those stark human silhouettes against that orange screen. The film's score, which connotes New Age spiritualism, is terrific.

Acting of the three leads is quite good. Patricia Clarkson is great as she sits in front of a computer monitor and, without speaking, displays myriad emotions through her facial expressions alone.

The chat room scenes are creative and emotionally potent, amid magnified keyboard clicking sounds. The back and forth exchange here is unusual, and striking in that it is meaningless when taken out of context, but highly enlightening when considered in relation to the film's plot, as this sample shows: "Hello"; "I hear clicking"; "I'm still here"; "Are you still there?"; "Yes"; "You sound really distracted"; "Yeah today"; "When?" "I'm sorry"; "No, I'm all yours"; "Are mine what?"; "No"; "Yes"; "Meaning?"; "I'm all yours now".

The film's screenplay does contain a rather obvious plot hole. And a couple of scenes involving Robert's son and former wife are too tangential to the story's trajectory. But these are minor issues.

"The Dying Gaul" may seem artistically or philosophically pretentious to some viewers. But I really liked it. Quite aside from the wonderful performances and the chic production values, the film's story has thematic depth, a quality lacking in most mainstream Hollywood films.

I enjoyed this film, up to a point- and that point was almost exactly the half way mark, where the writer director chose to go the maudlin implausible route instead of sticking with what he had, which was wonderful.

To have three characters in conflict and resolve it without any fancy plot device would have been truly courageous, but sadly what started out so lovely descended into melodrama and tedium.

That being said, Craig Lucas is clearly a talent to watch, he did a marvelous job with the actors- particularly Peter Skaarsgard, who does wonderful work, and the script is smart and even touching in places.

Campbell Scott seemed miscast to me, wooden and distant at places but oddly brazen in others. I can't imagine a married studio executive actually touching and almost kissing a writer ON THE LOT. I found myself imagining what other actors would have done with the role, never a good sign. But then again, he was one of the producers, so Mr. Lucas had his hands tied.

All in all, the first act was so promising that I was angered by the way Lucas decided to end it.