Venus

Lots of notable talent here -- director Roger Michell, writer Hanif Kureishi, and of course Peter O’Toole and Vanessa Redgrave -- but all their labors depend on the success of newcomer Jodie Whittaker, who plays the rough northern teenager whom O’Toole woos in a climactic episode of geriatric satyriasis. And she’s good, unfolding from sullen brat into worthy goddess of love. O’Toole is fully convincing as the rascally old goat, engaging in antic byplay with old theatrical friend Leslie Phillips and wistfully pursuing the girl while treating her with a respect she’s never received before. Much of the film seems dark and smudgy, which is probably intended to deglamourize London and its theatrical milieu. Even the seaside escape is gray and cold. But there’s a little pilot light of lust, which ignites a steady flame of affection, and the tea gets made, though there is nothing cozy about it. (2006, dvd, n.) *7-* (MC-82.)

Now that the baseball season has ended for me, as a stranger in the strange land of Red Sox Nation, I will have more time to watch films. I polished off a double feature by watching McCabe & Mrs. Miller for the umpteenth time, with particular attention to the use of Leonard Cohen’s songs, since they are my passion of the moment. It was also striking to revisit the young Julie Christie after recently seeing her lose her marbles in Away from Her, plus appropriate homage to Robert Altman after his recent passing. There’s no surprise to be had in seeing McCabe yet again, just confirmation of its frame by frame perfection and its place in my pantheon of transcendentally great films.