Expected more

Good films always raise compelling questions, whether the format is fiction or documentary fact.

All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

The story, direction, characters, and writing/dialogue is akin to taking a tranquilizer shot to the neck, but everything else was so well done.

For a decade or so, James Ivory directed a series of remarkable historical dramas that developed a well-deserved following, such as A Room with a View and Remains of the Day. Though this has a cast equal to the best of those, and the acting is indeed very fine, it is by no means as enjoyable as those masterpieces.The problem lies in the story. Mr. and Mrs. Bridge tells the story of an affluent couple in 1940s Mission Hills, KS. They are extremely sexually repressed, but it's not just a matter of sex. They have accepted all the upper middle-class values of their day, to the point that they simply do not allow themselves to live.Other movies have dealt with this same situation, and been more enjoyable because at least one character came to a realization of how those values imprisoned her/him and "made a break for it." Right off hand I think of Revolutionary Road, the 1950s story in The Hours, the wife in Pleasantville, etc. The Bridges go to Paris at one moment and the art in the Louvre seems to speak to her, but it never leads anywhere. Her best friend, who feels trapped in such a life, finally commits suicide, but it doesn't bring about an awakening in Mrs. Bridge. Finally, and perhaps symbolically, she becomes trapped in her car - but is towed out and goes on as before. From what I gather from some of the other reviews, Mrs. Bridge is presented as a dullard in the novel on which this is based, and her failure to see how lost she is presented as funny. That's certainly not the case here. We are supposed to sympathize with her, but she's so impervious sometimes, and downright dim-witted, that it's very hard to do so.Two hours of this is too much, and the end, which marks no change, emphasizes this. The story and the characters simply are not interesting enough to justify sitting through the movie, as well as it is acted and as beautifully as it is filmed. We get the point in the first 15 minutes or so; the rest of the movie adds nothing to that.I honestly cannot recommend that anyone watch it.

Films produced under the Merchant/Ivory banner are, as a general rule, respectable, literate, and often more than a little bit dull. But here's an exception (to the last rule, at least): an intimate, snapshot diary of an ordinary, middle-class, mid-American couple, played by the off-screen couple of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. Ruth Jhabvala's sensitive adaptation of the twin novels by Evan Connell is highlighted by her customary wit and attention to detail, with Newman and Woodward improving on the title roles by adding in their performances subtle shades of character which can't be written into any script. The episodic, slice-of-life structure doesn't allow for any dramatic momentum, and there isn't much of a message beyond the observation that native mid-westerners are emotionally repressed, but under James Ivory's typically graceful direction (and with the help of a first-rate supporting cast) it's an uncommonly rich film, full of privileged moments.

My first thought upon seeing this depression-era period film was that no one could have ever been so stuffy, stupid, and socially constrained as the middle age/elderly couple played by Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. But, then, I remembered that my grandparents were just like them, as were most of their contemporaries. What a limited life they led, and thank god for today's enlightenment.That women could have ever been so totally and willingly dependent, physically and mentally, on their husbands is now hard to imagine, but it did happen and was typical in the days when women did not work outside of the home. The film showed, over and over, dependency scenes that emphasized the helplessness and powerlessness of women in those depression era days. It got real aggravating after a while, but was offset somewhat by Woodward's character's inner goodness and sweetness. She was dumb as a mud fence, though.Newman was terrifically stuffy and dictatorial in his role and Woodward was terrifically dependent, incompetent, weak and stupid in hers. Wonderful work, and they both often had me steaming with their respective behavior, as I put up with a lot of this type of baloney when young. As their daughter, Kyra Sedgewick showed well that the "future" was going to be a lot different for women than the present by her unmistakable signs of emancipated behavior.The film's story was ended so well by Woodward's character getting stuck in her car in her garage, as she was so dependent and ignorant about how to do anything in life for herself that she sat in her car for hours without even trying to figure out a very easy solution to her problem. At the end, she was merely sitting there waiting and calling for many hours for others to "rescue" her from her easily solved predicament(if she only could have had an original thought), just as she had done all her incompetent and dependent life. What a great ending, and a great example of how not to be in real life. Thank god again that things have changed.

The movie was just little slow & Boring, however everyone did well. Woodward was good as a well done housewife and look after her son & daugther, Paul New's charcactor was wonderful ! But the ending disappionted me. The movie should have been better. 6/10