First, before we start confusing my message here, the fact remains: the producers made an egregious error in deciding not to make Love in the Time of Cholera in Spanish. Behind the puzzling decision, of course, was our old green friend, the almighty dollar, but, as things turned out, EAELTDC wasn't a cash cow anyway. And who would have expected it to be such? A story built so heavily on a very stretched concept of love, featuring mostly unknown names to the average American moviegoer, rarely succeeds at the box office here. So why not be true to Gabriel García Márquez's story and add the final, beautiful stroke of leaving it in its original tongue?
Alas, Newell and company decided to go a different direction, and the result was a far from perfect adaptation. Yet, in spite of some miscalculations--particularly the language, but also in the pacing dilemma and editing--the film adaptation of Gabo's beautiful novel proved a pleasant watch for one of the book's fans.
If it needed to be narrowed down, commendation is due thanks to the beautiful visual experience Love in the Time of Cholera presents. Shooting on-location in Columbia, the setting is gorgeous and colorful, evoking the thoroughly descriptive beauty of the world Gabo forged. From the first scene with the parrot, the viewer experiences rich, vibrant colors. Just as capably, though, the transition to darker moments and darker, more dreary places and times remains smooth. Filmed smoothly and indulgently, we earn a peek into a vividly alive world in a far-removed time, seeing both the exuberant daytime and crisp, chilly night through perfectly chosen lenses. The world Newell and company create most move quickly, and encompass the lives of the many characters peripheral to the principal love triangle of the story, and all these settings are built and filmed with substantial precision and care; despite quick, abrupt shifts in time or place, each area and location employed by the filmmakers receives its due diligence, whether the scene is a honeymoon barge bedroom or a dusty clerk's table in a market. Music was used thoughtfully, and the Shakira music--in Spanish, of course--added cultural authenticity to the movie and a potent emotional sway to transitional scenes.
Matching the success of the setting are the portrayals of the principals--Florentino Ariza (Unax Ugalde & Javier Bardem), Fermina Daza (Giovanna Mezzogiorno), and Dr. Juvenal Urbino (Benjamin Bratt). Ugalde creates the perfect young Florentino--eager, engrossed, awkward with the smile--and sets the character's innocent love in the perfect form. While Ugalde's apparent youth affects the way age comes across in the film, particularly in the way he appears to be identically Fermina's age, I doubt any young man could have better filled the role; even when mindlessly gummed flower petals while reading a letter, Ugalde built up a Florentino Ariza the audience could truly empathize with. Bardem, on the other hand, perhaps victimized by his dynamite performance as Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men, failed to offer the innocence Ugalde mastered during the transition age. But, as one might expect of as talented an actor, Bardem's performance as an aging Florentino succeeds marvelously, his careful speech and delicate, precise manner fit perfectly in with the Florentino Gabo penned, who--somehow--succeeded so much with the women of Columbia.
Mezzogiorno's Fermina plays a clear second fiddle to Ugalde and Bardema's Florentino, but she manages to build up a deeply layered character. Though the viewer has to employ the deleted scenes to get a full image (more on this later), Fermina comes across as completely naive early on (no better deliver of the "eggplant" line is possible, with Mezzogiorno throwing it away as a child would in a dinnertime compromise) and, as she ages, accomplishes both forced grace and aged authority. As for Bratt, Newell and the writers failed to take advantage of a near flawless performance; de-emphasizing Urbino made the story into a very non-isosceles love triangle, and it somewhat wasted Bratt flashing power, authority, and a uniquely different sort of love from Florentino. Bratt's charm as a young Urbino, doctoring about a beautiful young patient, contrasted with the boyish glee of flirting with Hildebranda and Fermina in the carriage evidenced the dynamic, ranging performance by Bratt.
While the setting, soundtrack, and acting all made the movie a success, a few strange decisions kept it from perfectly capturing Gabo's work. We could harp on the language selection, and I think we would be beating a dead horse at this point: I think, retrospectively, even Newell might be willing to admit that Spanish would have been the correct call. But that decision isn't alone as a detractor. First, in typical Mike Newell fashion (I'm thinking of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire), the beginning feels very rushed and, while the chronological demands necessitated some of it, the choice to leave out the extended opening--featuring all of the bathing and conversation between aged Fermina and Urbino leading up to his death--suggests a conscious decision to alter the love triangle in the film. With that scene, the audience sees a side of Fermina that the rest of the film ignores; amid all the "Was it really love?" comments, one gets the sense that, maybe subconsciously, or maybe more, Fermina still thinks of Florentino. That is, we get the sense that Urbino doesn't really command her love. But the extended scene, much more faithful to the novel, shows the loyal, respectful love that exists between them, and stands in valuable contrast to the rest of the film. Really, Newell traded out three extra minutes of a two hour, ten minute movie for less complex character relationships, which doesn't feel like a quality decision.
Second, the casting of John Leguizamo puzzles me, not on face value, but in the reign Leguizamo received; what accent was that? While he captured the necessary vigor and jerk-ness of Lorenzo Daza, he just didn't add to an already stretched realism; I don't know if it was a New York accent or not, as some critics panned, but it certainly didn't belong next to the crafted voices of Bratt, Mezzogiorno, and Bardem. Finally, as I mentioned pace a bit earlier, it bears mentioning that pacing was still an issue throughout much of the first half. Until Bardem entered, the film felt like it was moving too quickly, with brief character introductions--Liev Schrieber's two short appearances and the minuscule elaboration and depiction of the brothel, which provided such a valuable setting in the novel, both standing out--and even briefer explanation. While that certainly was appropriate for the fervor that Florentino discovered, it didn't fit with the excruciating waiting game Florentino had to play and, though the time shifts were clear enough, not until Ugalde's brilliant performance ended did I feel like Newell found his groove.
In conclusion, I can't help but say that, as a fan of the book--a big fan--I was more than pleased with the cinematic adaption, despite the problems some of the production teams' decisions presented. While I would have liked to see better pacing and inclusion of enough scenes between Bratt and Mezzogiorno to establish the properly composed love triangle, the acting, setting, and cinematography all teamed up to build a beautiful adaption of a beautiful love story, regardless of what professional critics said. Was there gratuitous nudity, plentiful sexual encounters, and two men, one who won an Oscar for playing a psychopathic killer and one who played a cop on Law and Order, trying to woo an Italian actress playing a Columbian? Yes on all counts. But, while it may sound strange to say, even with the obvious failings, Newell managed to tell the story faithfully, and in the process, evoke the beauty of that very novel. Gabriel García Márquez may have written better novels than this one, and Mike Newell has surely made better films, but I am grateful that, together, they allowed me to see one of my favorite novels come to life.
