"Jefferson in Paris" is a truly confounding film. It presents Thomas Jefferson (Nick Nolte) in the most unflattering light possible, painting him as a liar, racist and pedophile, yet offers not a shred of condemnation for those sins. This is the way he was, the film seems to say. End of sentence, end of movie, the door's behind you.
After arriving in Paris with his daughter Patsy (Gwenyth Paltrow), Jefferson proceeds to win the heart of Maria Cosway (Greta Scacchi), the wife of a homosexual English painter (the criminally underused Simon Callow). A turn of events sends Maria to England, however, and Jefferson proceeds to forget her with astonishing speed for a man who, mere minutes of screen time before, was asking her to live with him in America.
He's been bewitched, you see, by Sally Hemmings (Thandie Newton), one of his slaves just arrived from America. Just why he's bewitched is hard to tell--although Sally is undeniably beautiful, she acts like a simple-minded child in front of Jefferson. When she isn't telling ghost stories in exaggerated "darky" speech patterns, she's slinking around his bedroom, practically oozing lust for her distinguished massa.
If her behavior is an attempt to excuse Jefferson's, it doesn't work. Jefferson damns himself further when Maria, tired of waiting for his letters, travels from England to see him. I've not changed toward you, he insists, offering weak excuses for not writing. To her credit, Maria sees through his brazen lies immediately. When Sally appears, and she and Jefferson flirt openly (and cruelly, to my mind) in Maria's very presence, the illusion falls apart completely.
No one today believes that Jefferson, Washington and the rest were utter paragons of virtue and morality. Yet, are we supposed to believe that the learned, distinguished Jefferson would be attracted to Sally, a woman whose most intelligent conversation is about how "massa's Frenchie friends don' unnastan' aw corn" and who rubs herself against his front as she passes, right before Maria's eyes?
Even if we let that slide, it's followed by the horrifying revelation that Sally was only 15 when this affair took place (Jefferson was 41). Strangely, this fact comes out only toward the very end, when Sally's brother James is understandbly furious at her blase announcement that she is carrying Jefferson's child.
Jefferson is equally blase when told that Sally is carrying his child, and patronizingly tells her that she'd be far better off under his protection than free and living in France with her brother. But, he promises, I'll free her when I die and our children (including any more that come, Jefferson says, in a chilling declaration of Sally as *his*) when they reach 21. Oh thank you, massa, you feel like telling the screen. Big deal.
The worst scene is still to come, however, involving Jefferson's daughter Patsy. She is already angry at him, first for breaking his vow, made to her mother on her deathbed, not to marry again. (Obviously the woman wasn't just talking about matrimony.) Jefferson has also refused to allow Patsy to become a nun as she wishes, despite earlier moralizing about freedom of religion (that seems to mean freedom to agree with him).
Having promised Sally and her brother their freedom, Jefferson calls in Patsy to witness the bargain and promise to fulfill it should anything happen to him. Sally's brother blurts out the impending birth of the child, and Jefferson asks, "do you swear?" Paltrow's performance in this scene is brilliant, although she has almost nothing to say. Her face nearly contorts in agonizing pain at this revelation, yet she controls her grief and whispers yes.
If anything, and the filmmakers could have had something if they'd emphasized this point more, "Jefferson in Paris" is an indication of the status of woman in the late 18th century, viewed even by men like Jefferson as attractive property, pleasing but without true intellect or souls. We see Jefferson shed a few tears over a letter from Maria, obviously telling him where to get off, but he's soon laughing away at a wild dance from Sally, complete with tossed hair and heaving bosom.
I don't know whether this is an accurate portrait of Jefferson or not. I don't care to watch it, however, just for the sake of watching it. This Jefferson is no hero or even an anti-hero. He's a selfish, lying child-molestor--and one who gets away with it--not the kind of man I want to see a movie about.
After arriving in Paris with his daughter Patsy (Gwenyth Paltrow), Jefferson proceeds to win the heart of Maria Cosway (Greta Scacchi), the wife of a homosexual English painter (the criminally underused Simon Callow). A turn of events sends Maria to England, however, and Jefferson proceeds to forget her with astonishing speed for a man who, mere minutes of screen time before, was asking her to live with him in America.
He's been bewitched, you see, by Sally Hemmings (Thandie Newton), one of his slaves just arrived from America. Just why he's bewitched is hard to tell--although Sally is undeniably beautiful, she acts like a simple-minded child in front of Jefferson. When she isn't telling ghost stories in exaggerated "darky" speech patterns, she's slinking around his bedroom, practically oozing lust for her distinguished massa.
If her behavior is an attempt to excuse Jefferson's, it doesn't work. Jefferson damns himself further when Maria, tired of waiting for his letters, travels from England to see him. I've not changed toward you, he insists, offering weak excuses for not writing. To her credit, Maria sees through his brazen lies immediately. When Sally appears, and she and Jefferson flirt openly (and cruelly, to my mind) in Maria's very presence, the illusion falls apart completely.
No one today believes that Jefferson, Washington and the rest were utter paragons of virtue and morality. Yet, are we supposed to believe that the learned, distinguished Jefferson would be attracted to Sally, a woman whose most intelligent conversation is about how "massa's Frenchie friends don' unnastan' aw corn" and who rubs herself against his front as she passes, right before Maria's eyes?
Even if we let that slide, it's followed by the horrifying revelation that Sally was only 15 when this affair took place (Jefferson was 41). Strangely, this fact comes out only toward the very end, when Sally's brother James is understandbly furious at her blase announcement that she is carrying Jefferson's child.
Jefferson is equally blase when told that Sally is carrying his child, and patronizingly tells her that she'd be far better off under his protection than free and living in France with her brother. But, he promises, I'll free her when I die and our children (including any more that come, Jefferson says, in a chilling declaration of Sally as *his*) when they reach 21. Oh thank you, massa, you feel like telling the screen. Big deal.
The worst scene is still to come, however, involving Jefferson's daughter Patsy. She is already angry at him, first for breaking his vow, made to her mother on her deathbed, not to marry again. (Obviously the woman wasn't just talking about matrimony.) Jefferson has also refused to allow Patsy to become a nun as she wishes, despite earlier moralizing about freedom of religion (that seems to mean freedom to agree with him).
Having promised Sally and her brother their freedom, Jefferson calls in Patsy to witness the bargain and promise to fulfill it should anything happen to him. Sally's brother blurts out the impending birth of the child, and Jefferson asks, "do you swear?" Paltrow's performance in this scene is brilliant, although she has almost nothing to say. Her face nearly contorts in agonizing pain at this revelation, yet she controls her grief and whispers yes.
If anything, and the filmmakers could have had something if they'd emphasized this point more, "Jefferson in Paris" is an indication of the status of woman in the late 18th century, viewed even by men like Jefferson as attractive property, pleasing but without true intellect or souls. We see Jefferson shed a few tears over a letter from Maria, obviously telling him where to get off, but he's soon laughing away at a wild dance from Sally, complete with tossed hair and heaving bosom.
I don't know whether this is an accurate portrait of Jefferson or not. I don't care to watch it, however, just for the sake of watching it. This Jefferson is no hero or even an anti-hero. He's a selfish, lying child-molestor--and one who gets away with it--not the kind of man I want to see a movie about.