I admit to knowing nothing about Iris Murdoch besides that she wrote books. The movie tells us she was a philosopher and a novelist, though the semi-philosophical things she says in lectures in the movie sound more Deepak Chopra than David Hume. What the film's concerned with, though, is that she gets Alzheimer's, and her husband, John Bayley, must care for her.
This is not terribly interesting to me, as I don't know or care about Murdoch, and I don't care to watch old people losing their faculties. Seeing that it was nominated in three of the four acting categories, one would think it was at least worth watching for its performances... but not really. I always enjoy watching Kate Winslet, and she's lovely to see here, but as the younger Iris, she never really creates a character you can grasp. Dench has the real Oscar-bait role as the older Iris, and she's got a couple of scenes where she subtly and marvelously conveys the pain of a brilliant woman who realizes she's losing her mind, but most of the time she just looks spacy, which isn't too hard if you ask me. Broadbent is one-dimensional as the older Bayley; Hugh Bonneville as the younger Bayley looks extraordinarily like Broadbent, but both are hobbled by the limitations of the character, who seems like something of a pill. He's meek, stuttering, self-effacing, and in both incarnations follows Iris around like a puppy, with moist lips and begging eyes. I couldn't figure out why a bold, independent woman like Iris would want to be with a milquetoast like John -- and indeed, she walks all over him and then abruptly and inexplicably declares her passionate love for him.
The movie toggles back and forth between wild, young Iris and old, helpless Iris, which I guess is supposed to heighten the drama of her loss of mental agility. The empathy that I felt came about more because of the empirical situation -- the sudden, inexplicable, implacable dulling of a sharp mind -- than because of anything the movie did. Like Monster's Ball, it's depressing (and what wonderful timing for me to see them in succession after the past few weeks I've had), but it doesn't have the emotional involvement of Monster's Ball. It's slow and unengaging, and unless you feel an irresistible urge to see every movie nominated in every major Oscar category (which I would attempt to dissuade, since it would force you to see I Am Sam), there's no reason to see Iris.
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