A Scientist at the Movies Reviews by Greg Paris

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Title: The Convent (O Convento, 1995)

Date of original theatrical release: 1995

Details:

Catherine Deneuve (Helene)

John Malkovich (Michael)

Luis Miguel Cintra (Baltar)

Leonor Silveira (Piedade)

Duarte de Almeida (Baltazar)

Heloísa Miranda (Berta)

Gilberto Goncalves (Fisherman)

Written and directed by: Manoel de Oliveira

Score: 0

The Review: When two excellent and well known stars are displayed on the front of the DVD box, with a curious plot precis, in a movie you've never heard of, there are few options: either a unknown film by a Portuguese director that might be interesting because of the hidden document twist, or something that should best be left to rot in well-deserved obscurity. In the case of The Convent, and to the extent that I understand it, I'm not sure I can decide. But I am leaning towards the latter.

The plot is all setup and damn little delivery. Malkovich is an American professor researching an odd thesis on the origins of Shakespeare -- namely that he is of Spanish or Portuguese Jewish descent, transmuted from the name of a native son, Jacques Perez, in 1564. On his visit to the monastery which he believes has copies of the ancient marriage documents that might settle the question, he is accompanied by his French wife (Deneuve) who is clearly not fully supportive. In fact, his work seems to have put a serious strain on their relationship. Once they arrive at the monastery and settle in, the Shakespearean plot device doesn't simmer: it doesn't even burble. Malkovich is assigned an archivist to help dig through the papers, and she turns out to be a shy but stunning, tall, slender, raven-haired beauty (Silveira). Deneuve wanders around the grounds pursued by the guardian of the monastery (Cintra), who just may be the devil incarnate. There may be something diabolical about to happen; there are inverted pentagrams and strange goings on. Plod, plod, plod. Oh, and there's a mysterious Jurassic forest (yes, Jurassic: don't ask!) in the back forty with all its secrets (whatever they are).

Extremely minimal cast, which is a fascinating idea: only seven people wander in front of the camera, and all are listed above. Cinematography is a bit muddy, often quite dark with low contrast, making some of the scenes indistinguishable from the proverbial black cat in the coal bin at midnight. The only memorable images are of Silveira in her blue-white smock and long braid, in the dusty archives, smiling shyly at the camera.

The background score is schizophrenic: at times totally lacking (but then, at times the dialog is totally lacking as well), and at other times so loud and intrusive as to obstruct dialog and any measure of understanding. Overly dramatic, portentous, dissonant themes from Gubaidulina, Stravinsky, and Mayuzumi -- and by the end of the film, they surprisingly seem to fit.

In English, French, Portuguese and a little German, with English subtitles.

7-Jan-03

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