Maggie Smith in My House in Umbria

Spent some time yesterday watching My House in Umbria (2003) starring Maggie Smith, Giancarlo Giannini and Chris Cooper. While I have some pretty strong reservations about the film overall, there is no denying the greatness of Maggie Smith, who is now 76. Her expressive, dignified face, distinctive voice and elegant body language impart the deeply felt emotions she conveys with great subtlety, yet without a descent into melodrama or histrionics.

Smith is perfectly cast as Emily Delahunty, an English romance novelist of a certain age and uncertain background, who resides in a dreamy mountaintop villa in Umbria, Italy. Emily has lived what she says are many lives: an English life, an American life, a Moroccan life and an Italian life. She writes her books, which feature happy endings, under several nom de plumes. Her somewhat mysterious past and way of maintaining extraordinary poise and posture in her theatrical flowing outfits, make her a romantic but indelible character.

By chance, Emily's life is upended when she is injured in a train car explosion. Her fellow survivors include a retired British army officer, a young German man, and a little American girl who has become orphaned. All are hospitalized for their injuries. A detective (Giannini) is investigating the event, a bombing.

Emily takes in the other survivors and they become a sort of family at the villa, healing in the beautiful surroundings and through the kindness of Emily's small household staff. Aimee, the little girl, has been so traumatized by the explosion and loss of her parents that she does not speak, but in time begins to recover.

Eventually, the authorities locate Tom Riversmith (Cooper), Aimee's uncle, who was estranged from his sister, Aimee's mother. He comes to Italy to meet Aimee and bring her back with him to the States. Emily tries to connect with him numerous times but they are clearly cut from different cloth. A dry, unyielding scientist and college professor, he finds her romantic persona eccentric, offensive and even laughable.

The time comes for Aimee and Tom to depart. Emily is bereft at the loss of this child whom she has comes to love and nurture. She is despondent. At the very last moment, Tom leaves alone at the airport and Aimee returns to Emily. She gets her happy ending after all.

Maggie Smith is magnificent as Emily. Giancarlo Giannini is excellent, though his part is much smaller than I, a fan, would like. Chris Cooper does a good job with an unlikeable role. Art direction, locations, cinematography and costuming are all wonderful. The problem with this movie is in the screenplay. There are a number of flashback scenes, shot in black and white, that are used to tell us some of Emily's personal history. They are disruptive and heavy-handed. It seems as though the producer decided that more is better than less, or perhaps that we the audience could not have understood a less visual backstory. Too bad.

Despite all of that, seeing Maggie Smith act is always a memorable experience. She remains a marvel. Brava, Maggie!







  

Farewell to Susan Fromberg Schaeffer, and Remembering Others

The New York Times posted an obituary for the author Susan Fromberg Schaeffer, who died last week at age 71. Ms. Schaeffer was one of my favorite writers, and was the author of Anya, The Madness of a Seduced Woman, Time in Its Flight and Love. Reading the obituary, I came upon a book of hers that I had somehow missed, Buffalo Afternoon. I will be adding it to my very long list of must-reads.

I maintain my own personal pantheon of dearly departed writers, including Laurie Colwin, Alice Adams, Rona Jaffe and the playwright Wendy Wasserstein. Their voices are now silent, their keyboards still, but their words live on. It is sad though, to remember how much you enjoyed the writing of a particular author and waited anxiously for their next book (or play) to appear. Finding out that there would be no more is a little like losing a friend and realizing there will be no more visits, and no more long phone calls that cover personal news that ranges from the seriously important to the trivial. There is an empty place. But unlike the unfillable hole that results from the death of a friend, it is always possible to reread those authors' books and enjoy them once again. Thank goodness for that--there is some comfort there.