The Golden Bowl
dir. James Ivory
Opens Fri May 18 at the Guild 45th.

Henry James was no stranger to obsession. His fevered preoccupation with the style and stylings of "the American girl" and all her attendant metaphors is one of the most famous in literature's history. The trick to James' obsessions was that he never let them slide into repetition, but constantly renewed their elements--a trick that the filmmaking duo of Ismail Merchant and James Ivory, in their obsession with Henry James, has failed to master.

The latest Henry James adaptation by Merchant Ivory, The Golden Bowl stars Uma Thurman as Charlotte and Nick Nolte as "America's first billionaire," Adam Verver. When Adam's daughter Maggie (Kate Beckinsale) marries a destitute Italian prince, ironically named Amerigo (Jeremy Northam), she has no idea that her best friend Charlotte was once very intimate with him. Upon seeing the daughter he adores married, Adam resolves to marry himself, settling on Charlotte. Thus, the type of fetid quasi incest in which James reveled takes shape, and the American girl--I won't tell you which one--wins out.

The Golden Bowl is, in part, a drama of manners, and Merchant Ivory's production moves neatly upon the joints and hinges of a repressed society. But the filmmakers seem to think that a well-appointed costume drama with the weight of Henry James behind it doesn't need any creative help to succeed. People enter rooms, whisper to one another, make out passionately behind closed doors while holding lit candles, and glare portentously at photographs--but the movie remains too damp to make a spark.

Given the movie's passive direction, James' metaphors swell grotesquely. The titular "golden bowl"; the museum that represents Adam's life project; even Amerigo's name--all seem as mapped out as a shopping mall. James is sighing in his grave (though he'd probably still invite the filmmakers to dinner).