Adapted from Margaret Laurence’s Manitoba-set novel, which
apparently all of Canada read in 12th-grade English, The Stone
Angel has an air of excessive reverence about it, in spite of the
filmmaker’s boast (in the press notes) that the book has been tarted up
for the screen. There’s some sexy, yes, but the cinematography is
meticulous and lovely, the nostalgia for sturdy prairie values
undisguised. Unfortunately, every scrap of grim present-day narrative
and flashback from the book seems to have been retained. There’s no
time to fit everything in gracefully, and the movie is littered with
jerky transitions between eras.
Ellen Burstyn plays Hagar Shipley, a cantankerous old lady who
doesn’t want to go into a nursing home; it’s a good thing Burstyn is so
charismatic, otherwise the scenes with her pigheaded son (Dylan Baker)
would feel endless. Every so often—after mother, son, and
daughter-in-law have badgered each other sufficiently—we’re
treated to an abrupt flashback, in which the younger Hagar (the
excellent Christine Horne, who looks credibly like Burstyn) flirts with
boys, rebels against her snobby merchant father, and marries a randy
cowboy (Cole Hauser) who drinks too much and consorts with Indians.
Juno‘s Ellen Page has what amounts to a cameo, later in the
story, as a privileged hippie who dares to date one of Hagar’s
sons.
Tragedy arrives in fits and starts, and it’s strangely difficult to
get invested in Hagar’s emotional life. (Come to think of it, the name
“Hagar” might have something to do with it.) Still, there’s always
something (or someone) attractive to look at: Watching The Stone
Angel is not a chore. And the ending is pure, classy
melodrama—it’s totally overblown, and nothing less than
satisfying.
