Someone said, once, somewhere, that psychologist William James writes like a novelist, and that his brother, novelist Henry James writes like a psychologist (I can attest to the former's output - his book on Religious Experience is fluid and captivating). That statement couldn't be truer here, where a cinematic adaptation is the last thing James' novel needed - all the drama is internalized. What remains is standard Ivory: static shots of pretty decor, painterly foliage and the feeling of a stage play. Lee Remick does an admirable job as a Frenchwoman whose attitude and Machiavellian disposition does not fare well with stoic American life.
Director: James Ivory
Year Released: 1979