Madame Bovary

First published in 1856, Madame Bovary has seen multiple adaptations over the years. With Gemma Bovery already providing a take on the classic novel earlier this year, this version sees a much more traditional take on a classic.

For Madame Bovary (Mia Wasikowska), marriage to a small town doctor (Henry Lloyd-Hughes) does not fulfil her dreams. Despite the finery provided by the merchant Lheureux (Rhys Ifans) on a seemingly inexhaustible line of credit, she desires a better social standing for herself and her husband, and an escape to Paris. When she catches the eye of a marquis she sees an opportunity, but is she as worldly wise as she supposes or will her naivety lead to disaster?

It is hard to know how much this story has left to tell modern audiences, at least in this version. True, it can be said that Madame Bovary is among the early victims of the credit crunch, as her aspirational living well outstrips her husband’s means. Yet there is also a strange romanticism about this version that runs contrary to the original novel, lent weight by the sumptuous costuming and location work. Bovary’s death is heralded in the first shots of the film, set amongst a verdant forest. She is more Ophelia, tragically passing away to a swelling score, than Flaubert’s protagonist, screaming in pain as she discovers that suicide is a less poetic end than she envisioned.

It is equally difficult to garner what Barthes’ intentions for the character is. With the changes and cuts made to the tale, we now see the whole story from Madame Bovary’s view, and yet are somehow still left questioning her motivations. Mia Wasikowska makes Emma appear young, just released from a convent, but the script seems torn between portraying her as either frightfully naïve or flighty. That ambiguity is fine, but drift too much towards the later and the whole thing feels like a 19^th century anti-feminist morality play - something this film lurches dangerously close to. 

Rhys Ifans is on much more solid ground, as there is little doubt of the intent of Lheureux’s purpose and he takes scene-stealing glee in portraying someone of reptilian guile. As for the rest of the cast... well.  Henry Lloyd-Hughes puts in a workman like performance to convey Emma’s dull, albeit loyal, husband. Giamatti is riveting as always, even if it is predominantly in a supporting role. Ezra Miller as one of the love interests, Leon Dupis, is channelling Dangerous Liaisons-era Keanu Reeves, and is equally as tepid. 

Despite the rich photography and stunning costuming there is very little here to single Madame Bovary out from a herd of other period dramas. Paced with almost glacial slowness, Madame Bovary turns one of the first realistic novels into just another romanticised period piece. It is somehow exactly what you would expect of such a film, and yet all the less for it.

Originally published in X-Press Magazine