Review: Rachel, Rachel

Joanne Woodward plays a shy schoolteacher nearing middle age who still lives with her rather demanding mother above the funeral parlour her late father (Donald Moffat, in flashbacks) used to run. She’s always on hand to make sandwiches for the old biddies her mother brings to the house. Woodward is the textbook definition of a spinster. However, incidents involving a couple of hippie-meets-evangelical preachers (one played by redheaded Geraldine Fitzgerald) her lonely yet outwardly cheerful best friend (Estelle Parsons, as a woman just as trapped as Woodward has been) who takes her to her church, and an attentive but lothario former acquaintance come back to town (James Olson), see Woodward come out of her shell, to potentially finally start living her own life.

 

Having recently read an autobiography on Paul Newman, I knew that this directorial debut was first and foremost something that his long-time wife Joanne Woodward wanted to do, and Newman just somehow ended up getting so caught up in it that he eventually decided to be the one to direct it. As a showcase for the much-loved yet still somehow underrated Woodward, it certainly does its job. However, all of that credit really must go to Woodward herself, who is terrific as the lonely young woman who starts to have something of a sexual awakening that frightens her as much as it excites her.

 

The film itself is a bit aimless and simple, I’m just not sure there’s a whole helluva lot to it. It’s a small, independent film that just happens to have been directed by one of the most popular movie stars (and let’s face it, one of the best actors) of all-time. I also thought the scene of religious fervour actually played more like Newman was laughing at the hysterics of these religious-types, when apparently the point of the scene was meant to be Woodward being swept up in emotion for the first time in her life. The way Newman and cinematographer Gayne Rescher (“A New Leaf”, “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan”) shoot everyone in garish close-ups (something they do in the scene with Woodward’s nagging mother and fellow old biddies as well), I thought it was halfway between mocking and something out of “Rosemary’s Baby”, so it took me a little while to work out what Newman was really saying here. I guess I was predicting a “Repulsion”-style psycho-thriller about repressed sexuality. Nothing of the sort goes on here. It’s a much simpler, more sensitive, dramatic film than that.

 

Although some of the handheld work is a bit pretentious, it’s a very lovely-looking film at times. I loved the movie theatre scene where you can clearly hear Newman’s voice as an actor on the movie screen. Funny, Mr. Newman. Very funny indeed. It’s quite sensual for its time, and provides some interest in seeing Newman directing his first film, but aside from that and some good performances by Woodward, James Olson (never better or livelier), and Estelle Parsons (as well as a terrific cameo by Geraldine Fitzgerald), I’m not sure it adds up to all that much in the end. Mrs. Newman proves much more worthy here than Mr. Newman (a sentiment I think he’d likely agree with most of the time, but this is the one time where I’ve been more impressed by her than him as an actor).

 

It’s certainly not the kind of film I ever thought I’d see Newman directing. That’s hardly enough in the ‘win’ column for a recommendation, though. This one’s just watchable, although Newman certainly casts his wife perfectly as a repressed school teacher, pretty much her wheelhouse. See it for Woodward’s strong performance if you’re a fan (Pretty much everyone likes her though, right?), everyone else needn’t bother unless it’s for free. The Oscar-nominated screenplay is by Stewart Stern (“Rebel Without a Cause”, “The Rack”, “The Outsider”). The film also received Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Actress, and Best Supporting Actress (Parsons). By the way, I hear this is Jerry Seinfeld’s favourite movie…(You were all thinking it!).

 

Rating: C+