 Lolita (1997) The new Lolita is a disappointment not just because it doesn't deliver on the hype, but because it could have been a good film … with its director, cast, screenplay, and cinematography replaced. Strikes against it before it even gets underway: the presence of the always insufferable Melanie Griffith, the typecasting of 80s throwback Jeremy Irons as a deviant, the memory of a great book and a previous film adaptation that was very good. I know I'm in the minority in liking the original film Lolita (directed by Stanley Kubrick), but I feel that that one had such great performances that its departures from the novel were forgivable. It's tough to beat the perfect casting of James Mason as Humbert Humbert and Shelley Winters as "the Haze woman," the still-sexy Sue Lyon as Dolores, and the always amazing Peter Sellers as Quimby. As Hollywood as that picture is, it's still far deeper than Adrian Lyne's wallpaper love story, which seems to miss virtually every great aspect of Nabokov's book. Lolita is not a love story, and it's not really "about" pedophelia or incest, although those issues are explored. It's also not really a black comedy, or a pathetic character study. In many ways, Lolita is a novel about language – a fantasia on American culture and a satirical, serious deconstruction of psychological obsession. That said, it's probably true that it's not possible to film a Lolita that accurately reflects the novel (which, I should add, is neither Nabokov's best, nor a particularly accessible read), but whereas the Kubrick film found clever cinematic conventions to replace the purely language-based aspects of the book, Adrian Lyne attempts to stick to the plot and finds that there's no graceful way to tell this tale visually. The storyline is telescoped a great deal, with the bulk of the film focussing on the cross-country road trips that follow Mrs. Haze's death. Lyne clearly wants to explore, if not actually explain, Humbert's obsession, but does so with such a lack of subtlety that you get no real perspective on how fucked-up a relationship this actually is. In this version, Humbert is a man marked for life by the death of his first love (when they were both 14) so, obviously, he finds redemption in fucking a 14-year-old girl. Lyne comes close to permitting Humbert's behavior, placing no moral framework around it whatsoever. Despite what most people who never read the book think, Nabokov, celebrator of ambiguity and allegory, did not create a book that advocated child abuse. Lolita does have a moral context to it, although it does not come in the form of a "Lifetime" original movie where the abuser is painted out as purely evil. Critics of the book attack it for both depicting a child seductress and a heroic pedophile, but neither of those things is an element of Nabokov's Lolita. Lyne shows some ambition in attempting to chronicle the emotional development of the characters, but this is at the expense of virtually every other layer to the story. What you get is a portrait of two emotionally scarred people finding the only way they can fill their needs in a codependent sexual relationship. If that sounds "90s," make no mistake, this is very much a post-Amy Fisher Lolita. Performances range from flat (Melanie Griffith, perhaps the biggest Johnny-one-note in Hollywood history) to solid (Jeremy Irons, convincingly lecherous but almost a parody of his own style at this point) to nonexistent (Frank Langella as Quimby, whose character is given an inappropriately cursory exposition considering his prominent role in the story). The standout, by far, is Dominique Swain in the title role, entirely convincing (at times creepily so) as a 14-year-old, not exuding sexiness but rather embodying the obscure appeal Humbert attributes to the "nymphet." She shows a lot of vulnerability as Lolita, caught between wanting a dad and a sugar daddy. And while I'm sure most of us would have preferred Jodie Sweetin in the role, it's clear … um, it's clear I shouldn't finish that sentence. Badly scripted, boringly filmed, poorly scored, and capturing none of the qualities that makes Lolita such an enduring piece of fascination, Lyne's Lolita also has the distinction of being, after all that hype, a piece of crap. I'd find it easier to understand why no one would distribute this movie for a theatrical release if someone would just say "It's boring as all get out, and once people realize there's no nudity except for Frank Langella's modest penis, we're talking no tickets sold after opening weekend." It is funny that, 40 years after the book was published, all people see in Lolita (in any form) is the jailbait/incest angle. These are issues no one wants to face, and I'd say that I'm not convinced even Nabokov dealt with the subject tactfully. I know Adrian Lyne hasn't. The film only picks up momentum after Dolores leaves Humbert, and that lasts all of five minutes before we're off for a boring conclusion. Whoever was quoted as saying "Titanic swept the Oscars in a year when Lolita should have" needs a swift kick in the ureter. Quote me instead: "The new Lolita has all the zing of a soggy bottle rocket. If you're going to waste your life watching cable, then you may as well watch some honest-to-goodness Shannon Tweed movie. At least that will have Andrew Stevens, who is almost never dull, and is often beguilingly sexy."
Review by Jommers |