Five for Five: Notes on a Scandal

This afternoon the big one took care of the little one, the medium ones took care of each other, and Lucy and I saw Notes on a Scandal, which means, for those of you who haven't been keeping score at home, that I have now seen all the Best Actress nominees. And, along with everyone else, I still think Helen Mirren has it in the bag.

But Judi Dench is awesome, as is Cate Blanchett, who is fully deserving of Best Supporting Actress, even though I don't know who the other nominees are (all I know is the Little Miss Sunshine girl, and Cate Blanchett has it all over her). I also see that the movie is nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay, which it fully deserves as well, and Best Original Score, but more about that later.

Seriously, though, of the THREE MOVIES I SAW IN THE THEATER THIS WEEK (can you even believe it?!), Notes on a Scandal was hands-down the best. Interestingly enough, it has some of the same issues as Little Children: origins in a book I've read (albeit a much better book), a powerful voiceover, and infidelity (not to mention pedophilia, though very differently).

But it all worked for me this time. I didn't think for a moment about the inadequacy of film adaptation, or the fact that I knew what was going to happen, because the movie itself was totally gripping. The voiceover is an integral part of the film: it is Barbara's voice in her diary, revealing her delusions, not an omniscient force telling us what we should know. And the motivation for infidelity is ambiguous and complex, not predictable.

Indeed, compared with Little Children, Notes on a Scandal is an excellent brief for British vs. American cultural preoccupations. In America we have glossy suburbs, glossy compulsive moms, and glossy cinematography. In Britain we have class difference, urban grit, and the lunatic loneliness of the repressed lesbian schoolteacher (did you say Miss Jean Brodie gone mad?).

The only thing I didn't like about the movie was the music which, Philip Glass and all, and probably very good and all, felt intrusive (though Lucy didn't even notice it, so maybe it was just me). And the last thing I loved was Cate Blanchett's clothes, for which I would happily swap my wardrobe, though I would have no hope of looking as fabulous as she does, given that she is tall and slim, and I am not.

Edited to add: The reviews on this one are good: Ty Burr and I are one, once again, and David Denby is right on the mark, though Manohla Dargis seems to be protesting too much, I'm not sure about what.