THE HOUSE OF MIRTH (2000) **1/2

Reviewed 9/24/00

Adapted from the Edith Wharton tragedy of the same name, THE HOUSE OF MIRTH is another of those Victorian period pieces filled with upper class stiffs who speak with wry wit, the intent behind which is always either venom or seduction. Set in turn-of-the-century New York, the story follows Lily Bart (Gillian Anderson) as she plummets from high society due in part to her brashness, over-confidence, and naiveté, and in part due to the ruthlessness of other members of that society. Falsely believing the wealthy Gus Trenor (Dan Aykroyd) has given her a profit from investing her own money for her, Lily spends the money that's not really hers before realizing her disillusionment when Gus wants sexual favors in return. Lily promises to pay Gus back, but her attempts are further set back when one-time friend, Bertha Dorset (Laura Linney), betrays her in order to hide an affair. Lily has incriminating letters on Bertha, but will she use them to ruin Bertha's life?

British director, Terence Davies, acclaimed for his working-class studies in DISTANT VOICES, STILL LIVES and A LONG DAY CLOSES, here takes on society's upper crust with mixed results. There is a great sense of been-there, done-that, and the shadow of Martin Scorsese's Wharton adaptation, THE AGE OF INNOCENCE, certainly not without its own flaws, looms in the background as a superior take on similar material. Davies certainly has a great eye for detail and with cinematographer Remi Aderfarasin, gives THE HOUSE OF MIRTH a voluptuous look. But look only goes so far.

Lily goes through most of the movie seeking help from those who refuse to help her and refusing help from those who wish to give it to her. By the half-dozen mark of this type of encounter, one is ready to throw up one's hands in frustration of the hopes that we will see something, anything different. Gillian Anderson steps way outside of her X-FILES role to make a perfectly believable Lily. Unfortunately, the way the story is told, aside from her suffering, Anderson's Lily remains too emotionally opaque to identify with. We can never quite see what's going on in her head. Except for the miscast Dan Aykroyd, the rest of the cast does fine work. Most notable are Anthony LaPaglia (perhaps his best role ever since he's not playing a gangster), Terry Kinney, Johdi May, and Eric Stoltz, who is surprising in his subtlety.