For lack of a better phrase, The Hours is about Life. Of course life is one complex beast, full of contradictions and cross purposes; and really, when you think on it, life is about love - or the lack thereof (and since love is equally hard to pin down, one can see why life is often… More
For lack of a better phrase, The Hours is about Life. Of course life is one complex beast, full of contradictions and cross purposes; and really, when you think on it, life is about love - or the lack thereof (and since love is equally hard to pin down, one can see why life is often such a jumble).
The Hours is full of people doing the "right thing" for the wrong reasons, with people doing harm by trying to be protective. In the end we all must question why we do what we do, whether it be for selfish reasons or simply our innate desire to connect with someone or to stand for something. I don't want stray too much into the why's or wherefores of The Hours, as I urge you to let the intertwining stories unfold before you, but I will say this - it is beautifully filmed, wonderfully encapsulating the three periods involved; the 20's, 50's and new millennium.
At the core of the film you have three actresses all at the top of their game. Nichole Kidman as Virginia Woolf (and I hope I needn't say more about the writer... but even if you have no idea, the film does a wonderful job of filling in the backstory). Moving to the 50's you have Juliane Moore as a typical housewife (although one who seems disconnected with her time and place (think Betty Draper in Mad Men if you will) - knowing that there is a deep well of dissatisfaction within her that goes contrary to the American Dream, but not understanding why. She has a young son with another on the way, and yet, while she loves her son, she looks at him as if he's some biological specimen under a microscope - not truly engaged or attached.
Finally, in the "present" you have Meryl Streep, who is cohabitating with Allison Janney while caring for her former lover, Ed Harris, who is dying of AIDS. An interesting triangle, and while Streep is her usual wonderful self, Harris steals the film. His character is a poet who also wrote a complex novel about life, love and observations. The connections between he and Woolf are subtle but equally as important as those between Woolf, Moore and Streep.
In lesser hands the film might simply be as I have presented it, but Stephen Daldry gives us so much nuance (which I'm assuming was in the original novel, since it was a Pulitzer winner), that the film is much more than the sum of its plot points. The attention to detail is wonderful and even some of the smaller, supporting roles seem to be full blown characters in their own right (particularly those of Leonard Woolf (Stephen Dillane) and a neighbor of Moore's, wonderfully played by Toni Collette).
There is a revelation that comes about 3/4 through the film, and I'm not revealing it here. I didn't see it coming and it was one of those wonderful moments that enlightens and gives a different spin on everything you've seen before it without seeming false or pretentious. This is a masterfully done film in both style and substance, with top shelf actors giving oscar worthy performances (with Kidman receiving one), ensconced in a wonderfully literate screenplay and a moving and haunting score by Phillip Glass.