Review: "The Exception"

“The Exception” is generally a pretty solid war romance/drama, with the exception of the confusion regarding its title.

It would seem to refer to the German army office played by Jai Courtney, who eschews the more brutal aspects of the Reich and was nearly court martialed for beating another officer who murdered women and children on the Polish front. Several times Captain Stefan Brandt is told his outlook is the exception and not the rule for those who serve Adolph Hitler.

Or maybe it’s Mieke, the Dutch woman played by Lily James who is actually a secret agent of the British, who carries on an affair with Brandt. We figure she’s doing it as part of her mission, but soon it becomes clear they share true feelings for each other -- especially after he learns of her identity as a spy and a Jew. She’s the one who keeps telling him how much of an outlier he is, but in truth Mieke is the more exceptional of the two.

The most interesting person in the movie, however, is Christopher Plummer as Kaiser Wilhelm II, the deposed monarch of Germany living in exile in Holland. Aged, proud and rather deluded, he dreams of being returned to the throne with the consent of Hitler. The courtly man takes a grandfather-ish interest in Mieke, even blessing her affair with the German officer charged with guarding him.

Director David Leveaux and screenwriter Simon Burke based the movie upon a novel by Alan Judd, which is a complete historical concoction, at least in terms of the spy intrigue. By all accounts, Wilhelm and his second wife, Hermine (Janet McTeer), lived quietly in luxury, a sort of gilded cage, until his death at age 82.

I should also point out that the spy’s exact purpose never really becomes clear. Is she supposed to kill the Kaiser? That would probably have simply taken an expensive burden off the Reich’s hands. Later, when Heinrich Himmler himself comes to pay a visit -- played unnervingly by Eddie Marsan, who specializes in this sort of thing -- we expect Mieke to set her sights on him instead, but nothing ever comes of it.

A Gestapo agent (Mark Dexter) is sent to go sniffing, using fancy radio technology to track down the signals sent from the nearby village by Mieke’s spy handler, the local priest. It all culminates in familiar scenes of screeching cars, jackbooted men tromping up and down stairs, rooms being clumsily ransacked for evidence.

So in the end, her purpose as a spy is simply to be chased.

Many movies have a MacGuffin, a thing of vague utility other than to be what every character in the movie is directed toward. This is the only film I can think of where the MacGuffin is a person instead of an inanimate object.

The romance between Mieke and Brandt is tender and believable enough. Courtney strikes the part of an arrogant Aryan Nazi who nonetheless bears wounds, physical and otherwise, he’s trying hard to keep hidden. James is affecting, projecting both shining strength and vulnerability as a woman whose emotions run ahead of her judgement.

Also notable is McTeer as the princess, quietly scheming for her husband’s return to power while obviously doing it as much for her own fortunes as his. She gets a great scene where the imperious woman, used to lording it over others, is forced to demur to another. And I liked Ben Daniels as von Ilsemann, the colonel who acts as the Kaiser’s aide-de-camp and confidante, dexterously navigating between several gravitational pulls of influence.

But it’s Plummer’s movie in the end, in another splendid turn for the marvelous thespian. There’s often an aspect of overt theatricality to his performances, but as he’s aged these have rightfully comet to be seen as a feature rather than a bug. He makes every tiny gesture or expression – a narrowing of the eye, a hand smoothing his uniform -- seem ripe with meaning.

“The Exception” never quite gets around to figuring out which is the main character, or finding its narrative focus. Still, it has well-drawn characters and a pervading sense of peril amidst the passion.

Video review: "Albert Nobbs"

Albert Nobbs is more a parable than a person, and "Albert Nobbs" plays out more closely to a fable than an authentic tale. "Albert Nobbs" is the classic example of a terrific premise for a movie that doesn't follow through. Glenn Close, in an Oscar-nominated turn, plays a woman living in 19th century Ireland who's been passing herself off as a manservant. After decades of cultivating a humble, inconspicuous exterior, Albert seems to have developed no real identify of his own. (I'll use male pronouns, since that's how Albert thinks of himself.) Seemingly uninterested in sex, his only real desires are for security and stability. After a chance meeting with another female living as a man (Janet McTeer, in a hefty performance that got its own nod from the Academy), Albert latches onto the idea of using his savings to open a small tobacco shop. He even wants to marry Helen (Mia Wasikowska), a callow young co-worker, and install her as a sort of business partner and life companion. The movie faces a couple of problems. Despite some impressive wigs and makeup, the transformation of the women into men isn't entirely convincing. It's hard to buy that anyone wouldn't take one look at Albert realize he's in disguise. McTeer, wearing obvious shoulder pads, is even more obvious. The other challenge is that Albert remains a total cipher even after the credits have rolled. He seems not so much masculine or feminine as sexless. The character also comes across as being not very bright. Pair that with his stubbornly mysterious motivations, and the intrigue surrounding this little figure soon fades. Special features, which are a little on the scanty side, are the same for Blu-ray and DVD editions. They consist of a handful of deleted scenes, and a feature-length commentary track by Close -- who also co-wrote the screenplay -- and director Rodrigo Garcia. The pairing is pleasant; I've always felt the best commentaries are achieved when filmmakers and cast members collaborate on them. Please note, "Albert Nobbs" will be released on video May 15. Movie: B-minus Extras: B-minus

Review: "Albert Nobbs"

Albert Nobbs is more a parable than a person, and "Albert Nobbs" plays out more closely to a fable than an authentic tale.

Glenn Close plays the title character, a woman who has been posing as a male servant for so long in 1800s Ireland that she can't really even remember another existence. Albert (I'll refer to him as he from now on, since that's how he regards himself) is utterly subservient, deliberately nondescript and indeed seems to have no inner core to hide.

He's been playing an exterior role so long, it has become the entirety of the core inside.

It's a remarkable (and Oscar-nominated) performance by Close, who also co-wrote the screenplay with John Banville and Gabriella Prekop, based on a short story by George Moore. She manages to show us an absolutely flawless facade -- the tiny voice, the prim mannerisms, the unflappable reserve.

Physically, Close has always possessed a somewhat androgynous beauty (undiminished as she nears her 65th birthday). But even with some splendid wigs and facial prosthetics, the look isn't entirely persuasive. Albert's appearance takes on a certain elvish bent, seeming not so much masculine as entirely sexless.

As for sex, the thought seems not to have occurred to Albert. His only spare thoughts are to money: he's been meticulously saving his wages and tips in order to buy a business -- perhaps a tobacco shop, he muses. Never mind that he doesn't even know how to roll a cigarette.

Then something startling happens: Albert is forced to share his bed with a easygoing house painter who has come to spiff up the upscale but dowdy hotel where he lives and works. Albert is astonished to discover that this man, Hubert Page (Janet McTeer), is also passing himself off as a man. What's more, Hubert has even taken a wife.

Soon Albert becomes obsessed with the notion of doing the same -- not for any sexual reason, but because the idea of hearth and home, with a pleasant girl working the counter at the tobacco shop, appeals to his nature. After a lifetime of fear at his secret being discovered, what Albert craves most is security.
(It seems not to have occurred to him to play it backwards, taking a husband and becoming the girl behind the counter.)

For capricious and naive reasons, Albert focuses his attentions on Helen (Mia Wasikowska), the flirty young maid at his hotel. Alas, she's fallen in with a bad sort named Joe (Aaron Johnson), who dreams of liberty in America. Joe catches the whiff of money about Albert, and sets Helen to leading Albert on in hopes of cracking his skinflint veneer.

Director Rodrigo Garcia elicits consistently wonderful performances from his cast, which also features Pauline Collins as the fussy but domineering owner of the hotel, Brenda Fricker as a cook who's wiser than she looks, and Brendan Gleeson as the boozy doctor who seems to be the hotel's permanent resident.

Yet "Albert Nobbs" can't shake the tinge of feeling counterfeit. Albert is trapped in a maze of his own construction, one he could cast off his narrow shoulders at any time he wished. The film demonstrates this itself, when Hubert and Albert put on dresses and try a day living as women. The result is perhaps the only true moment of unchecked joy in Albert's life.

As for the central love triangle, it's difficult to get caught up in since it contains no actual love. Helen obviously holds scant affection for Albert, Joe adores only money and freedom and Albert regards love the way a whale might behold an elephant it spies upon the shore: intriguing, but incompatible.

2.5 stars out of four