Anna Karenina
Directed by Joe Wright
Focus Features
In a film like Anna Karenina, it can be very easy to get carried away by the elements laid out on the surface. Much attention is given to the way that it looks and sounds — the very construction of the film’s narrative is done with visual aesthetic as the emphasis. It is the kind of film that seems devised for a well crafted trailer — sensuously appealing, but with no soul.
The story at the centre of Anna Karenina is one of love and loyalty. Anna, portrayed here by Keira Knightley, is the wife of Alexei Karenin (Jude Law), a respected statesman in late 19th-century Russia. After continuous persuasion, Anna is eventually compelled by Count Vronsky (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) to take up a relationship with him. As the film progresses, Anna eventually abandons her husband, and loses much of the comfortable life she once had.
The film attempts to tell its narrative from the perspective of a stage play, full of hanging sets and artificial back drops. Eventually it becomes clear that this is a metaphor for the social divisions existing in pre-industrial Russia: the affluent aristocracy as the players in a production, with the filthy working class operating the mechanics of the set behind the scenes. The brilliance of this analogy actually works as a disservice to the film early on — if the characters in this film are so exploitive, then why should we sympathize with the difficulties they undergo?
In order for dramas to be effective, there needs to be an emphasis on developing characters and the relationships that make up their lives. That simply isn’t the case here. By the time she finally breaks down and decides to sleep with Vronsky, we’d only actually seen Anna interact with her husband in one brief sequence. The appropriate effort is never taken to lay the foundations, and you never get a feeling for who these characters truly are. This distance unfortunately makes it quite difficult to feel engaged when conflict actually occurs later on.
The film simply lacks a sense of focus. A significant amount of time is dedicated to the story of Konstantin Levin, a poor farmer who attempts to marry a young princess named Kitty. This is admittedly the most interesting piece of the entire plot, but it never feels like it has any profound connection to Anna’s life. There are a sea of minor characters to keep track of, and it always seemed like a struggle to decipher the motivation behind anyone’s actions. This is undoubtedly the result of trying to compress an 800-page novel into a two-hour film, but even the one unique trademark of this adaptation, the stage production motif, is essentially abandoned about halfway through.
Director Joe Wright has found his best success in period pieces with his adaptations of Pride & Prejudice and Atonement. His composition, accompanied with often spectacular cinematography, really compliment the artfulness of the set and costume design which the genre possesses. Anna Karenina is a wonderful film to look at. But unlike a beautiful painting, great dramas need to involve you in their narratives, and the characters that inhabit them. As much of an oxymoronic statement as it sounds, Wright’s visual fidelity can only turn this film into a true pleasure to observe.
