MARY
REILLY
REVIEWED BY
CHARITY BISHOP
Our rating: 3 out of 5
Because of: violence, gore, and elements of child abuse
Rated:
A few years
ago I made a study of Victorian novels, with the intent of acknowledging
their social, moral, and psychological commentaries. The three that
stood out the most profoundly to me in some aspect of their theological
depth were Dracula (a godless existence), Frankenstein
(man's inability to reproduce or create a soul), and The Strange Case
of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, which illuminates the dangers of allowing
evil even the smallest foothold in one's life.
Mary Reilly
is the latter's story but seen through the eyes of an innocent housemaid.
Mary (Julia Roberts) is grateful to live and work in the home of the
eccentric but gentle Dr. Jekyll (John Malcovich). Having escaped an
abusive childhood and found her way into service, she is both
increasingly fond of her employer and curious about the long hours spent
in his laboratory. Just when she has come to trust him, and senses that
he too has become fond of her, Mary's world is turned upside-down by the
appearance of Jekyll's new assistant, Mr. Hyde. The servants do not see
much of him, but what they say of him in passing is that he is "just
like the darkness." Snatches of his personality are revealed to her as
she goes about her daily life, even encountering him one night in a
terrifying confrontation. He has been given a set of rooms in a local
brothel run by the accommodating Mrs. Farraday (Glenn Close), but it
seems that a string of brutality and violence lingers in his wake.
As
Mary fights off her fascination with the charismatic but terrifying Mr.
Hyde, she cannot help but wonder what hold he has over Dr. Jekyll, and
prays it will not destroy all of them. The film itself is much better
than I anticipated. Roberts at first seems a little awkward in period
attire, but soon grows into the character and although her accent is
poor at best, she is both a likable and intriguing heroine, tormented
both by dark memories of the past and her interest in a world that is
beyond her comprehension. I have never cared for Malcovich, but he is
exceptional in this film. For once, he seems to have truly gotten his
hooks into a part and I cannot think of anyone who could have done it
better. There is his weaker, more affectionate self, and the
alternative, who is violent, aggressive, and without conscience. The
director really knew what he was doing in setting up so many sinister
and creepy sequences.
Many elements
make this unsuitable for sensitive viewers or younger audiences, but for
the most part all of it is handled somewhat discreetly. One of the
goriest things is Mary watching in horror as a live eel is stripped of
its skin and cut into pieces; she later ventures into a meat market
where animal corpses are hung up to be disemboweled. A bedroom in a
brothel is literally drenched in blood, along with a rat that has been
cut open. Hyde is shown playing with a severed head. The most horrible
thing is a child running along the street, and being knocked to the
ground by Hyde, who then viciously stomps on her stomach. (He is shown
paying off her mother, while the child screams and gropes at her
bloodied garments in the background.) Hyde uses the silver tip of his
walking stick to murder a congressman; it is shown impacting his head.
Various bloodied instruments and sheets are glimpsed in other scenes.
There's a creepy glimpse of two men merging into one; fighting in their
skin with the audible sounds of ribs snapping into place. A man crushes
a tea cup in his hands, then pulls a broken piece out of his palm.
It's
actually some of the unseen and implied elements that may disturb
viewers more than the violence. Though it is never shown, or even
discussed, the implication is that Mary was sexually abused by her
father, who also inflicted her with other torments (such as locking her
in a cupboard with a rat, whose attack left her scarred on her neck and
wrists; and by beating her with his belt). A man (Ciarán Hinds) visits
the whorehouse several times, and always leaves with an underage girl.
Mary experiences several intense dreams about Hyde, one of which finds
him in bed with her. He tears open her nightgown (she is laying on her
stomach) and licks her back, before turning her over. In a scene near
the climax, he drags her kicking and screaming through the laboratory
and forces her up against a wall, where he kisses her. I wasn't sure
whether he intended to kill or rape her.
All of this
sounds rather worse than it plays out on film, and in truth it could
have been far more graphic than it actually was. The filmmakers, for the
most part, showed remarkable restraint, particularly when it comes to
the gruesome aspects of Hyde's trail of murder and mayhem. The most
fascinating thing about the story is the same element that makes the
book such a complex read: the notion that you cannot separate good from
evil in your life, that you must never give in to darkness, since it
will consume you, and that there is hope no matter how lost you become.
True, it's somewhat intermingled with a peculiar frame of love story,
but nevertheless audiences will remember one thing: that you can never
escape the consequences of your actions.