Silk translates Alessandro Baricco's unusual novella into a film which succeeds in capturing the other-worldly atmosphere of the succinct and emotionally charged novel.
The story links French 19th-century idealism to the remote and closed feudal society of Japan in the context of French silkweaver, Baldadiou, who ambitiously sends his protégé, Herve Joncour, to Japan in search of undiseased silk-worm eggs. Herve and Baldabiou represent the never-ending quest of man for ideals and perfection. Herve is romantic and deeply loves his wife Helene though that does not stop him being mesmerised by Japan and its cultural foreign-ness, epitomised by a beautiful concubine with whom he becomes obsessed. Baldabiou is obsessed in finding the perfect silk-worm eggs and producing perfect silk, trying to emulate the beautiful Japanese light-as-a feather silk he'd once seen.
And of course, there is the Dante-esque journey - Herve's adventures travelling across the world from France to Japan at a hazardous and dangerous period when he risks his life each time is symbolic. Finding fulfilment or the disillusionment of ideals? The symbolic one-handed pool game which results in Baldabiou leaving his work and his town, and the death of Helene but the survival of her garden - all part of the story as a pared-down synthesis of man's troubled search for the meaning of life, and the film tries hard to capture this.
Baricco conjures a magical realism in his short-chaptered book. Francois Girard manages to recreate the beauty expressed in the well-chosen words of Baricco, and convey the poignant love story, through a hypnotic musical soundtrack, evocative narrative, subdued colour tones, and a gently paced style. The main weakness in the film lies in the actors and accents. Keira Knightley and Michael Pitt are miscast, and their accents are terrible. The Japanese characters appear contrived, even Sei Ashina as the silent concubine does not really convince. However, Alfred Molina never disappoints: he is excellent as Baldabiou, and Miki Nakatani is assured as Madame Blanche.
This film was a very expensive effort to conjure a story from a book in which language is the essence. It obviously never made back its outlay. Credit to Girard for the courage of his convictions but the result was not entirely satisfactory. Nevertheless, it is worth watching, but read the book - you'll see what I mean.
The story links French 19th-century idealism to the remote and closed feudal society of Japan in the context of French silkweaver, Baldadiou, who ambitiously sends his protégé, Herve Joncour, to Japan in search of undiseased silk-worm eggs. Herve and Baldabiou represent the never-ending quest of man for ideals and perfection. Herve is romantic and deeply loves his wife Helene though that does not stop him being mesmerised by Japan and its cultural foreign-ness, epitomised by a beautiful concubine with whom he becomes obsessed. Baldabiou is obsessed in finding the perfect silk-worm eggs and producing perfect silk, trying to emulate the beautiful Japanese light-as-a feather silk he'd once seen.
And of course, there is the Dante-esque journey - Herve's adventures travelling across the world from France to Japan at a hazardous and dangerous period when he risks his life each time is symbolic. Finding fulfilment or the disillusionment of ideals? The symbolic one-handed pool game which results in Baldabiou leaving his work and his town, and the death of Helene but the survival of her garden - all part of the story as a pared-down synthesis of man's troubled search for the meaning of life, and the film tries hard to capture this.
Baricco conjures a magical realism in his short-chaptered book. Francois Girard manages to recreate the beauty expressed in the well-chosen words of Baricco, and convey the poignant love story, through a hypnotic musical soundtrack, evocative narrative, subdued colour tones, and a gently paced style. The main weakness in the film lies in the actors and accents. Keira Knightley and Michael Pitt are miscast, and their accents are terrible. The Japanese characters appear contrived, even Sei Ashina as the silent concubine does not really convince. However, Alfred Molina never disappoints: he is excellent as Baldabiou, and Miki Nakatani is assured as Madame Blanche.
This film was a very expensive effort to conjure a story from a book in which language is the essence. It obviously never made back its outlay. Credit to Girard for the courage of his convictions but the result was not entirely satisfactory. Nevertheless, it is worth watching, but read the book - you'll see what I mean.