Talented cast builds sturdy 'House'
Fernando F. Croce / Senior Staff Writer
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That famous line, spoken by Jean Renoir in his 1939 seminal "The Rules of the Game," is possibly the most concise definition of the essence of tragedy. It could also be the motto, diminished but still affecting, behind the new movie "House of Sand and Fog."
Nowhere near the complexities of the Renoir masterpiece, the film is nevertheless intelligent and heartfelt before it gets straitjacketed by good taste. Around this time of year, when critics toast spurious, Oscar-grabbing holiday releases, take that as a recommendation.
The plot follows two characters whose lives intertwine disastrously.
Kathy (Jennifer Connelly) is a young housekeeper, distraught over the recent death of her father. Behrani (Ben Kingsley) is an exiled Iranian immigrant and former colonel, now working two jobs to support his family and keep up his pretense of a comfortable retirement.
Their paths cross via a bureaucratic blunder: Kathy is mistakenly evicted from her home, and before she can sort things out, Behrani buys it in hopes of making a profit. Pleading with him and legal action lead nowhere until an unhappily married deputy (Ron Eldard) falls in love with Kathy and decides to take matters into his own hands.
Adapted from a novel by Andre Dubus, "House of Sand and Fog" is distinguished by the compassionate distance it keeps from the characters, and the careful balance of viewer sympathy that results from it.
Admirably, the film operates on the notion (almost radical by Hollywood standards) that nobody is good or bad all the time: Kathy is by turns pathetic, vulnerable and manipulative, while Behrani can be arrogant, caring and crude, depending on the situation.
By being able to observe the characters and their various sides, the film offers a larger view of the conflict so that there is no rigid "right" or "wrong." The characters' actions are enlarged by the way meanings shift from different viewpoints (one man's dedication to his family can seem like greed to others).
The director is Vadim Perelman, a first-timer. His inexperience shows at times, but for the most part it's an even, controlled job. The film is blessedly free of hysteria: Perelman is happy to keep a steady hand and simply let the story unfurl.
The cast could hardly be better. Kingsley gets right to the core of Behrani's gentle dignity and boorish pride. The harshness and intimacy in his scenes with his wife (played marvelously by Shohreh Aghdashloo) are further reminders of the actor who can play Gandhi and sexy beasts with equal fluidity.
Connelly is like a Demi Moore touched by talent, vulnerability and humanity. After years of eye-candy parts coasting on her gorgeousness, she is finally getting roles that hint at the emotional turmoil behind the sullen ripeness -- her nervy performance here is every bit as impressive as her Oscar-winning turn in "A Beautiful Mind."
And yet, a nagging feeling: A good film, "House of Sand and Fog" could have been a great one. Immaculate production values, a tip-top cast and a grave, weighty subject. What is missing?
Hard to pinpoint, but the word "chance" comes to mind. The movie's architecture of doom is so worked-out and so cleanly put in place that it allows little of the unpredictable human messiness that figures so prominantly in human tragedy.
Maybe a smaller production, not as pretty but tighter-knit and with a less obviously "inspirational" score, would carry more power. Tim Blake Nelson ("Eye of God," "O," "The Grey Zone") has carved out a niche of small-scale tragedy, and he might have elevated it to a truly tragic level, perhaps even addressing the racial tensions that the film now so tastefully evades.
That may sound like ungratefulness, especially since many of the picture's virtues (namely, care and sensitivity) are not exactly in ample supplies nowadays. Powerful as it is, "House of Sand and Fog" is nevertheless limited by its own skillful gentility.
It opens nationwide on Dec. 26.
