QUARTET (1981): Isabelle Adjani, Alan Bates, Maggie Smith, Anthony Higgins. A French actress lost amongst the Brits. The dialogue shifts back and forth from French to English. The cinematography is generally murky and cold. Adjani's Mado is a foreigner in town whose husband gets pinched for theft and she has no recourse but to move in with a strange, arty English couple who have taken a fancy to her. The husband (Bates) is a bit of a bounder, and his wife (Smith) tolerates it in a timid sort of way. If this were made today then the aren't-men-awful theme would be underlined in red and capitalised in bold. In this 1981 production we are allowed to realise it for ourselves. But the film is so muted, so dreary, despite the glowing presence of Adjani, and the British couple so constipated, well, is it worth the bother? One keeps wishing for a good punch in the face or a sudden revolver being drawn and fired. The trouble with Quartet is that it is full of behaviour and expressions of feeling that are so antiquated one has trouble empathising with anyone. And as Bates says, it's all so sordid. A sorry, sad lot of exiles. But I'll say this, it ends on an exquisite note of tristesse.
Review of Quartet
