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For the first time, we see Mildred in full focus and Veda in shadow. Only when she takes off the uniform, Haynes seems to say, can she really be seen. Start when Mildred, in a sensible gown, berates Monty for sitting around while she prepares Veda for her upcoming concert. Monty sits still, drink in hand, while Mildred creates a flurry of motion, picking up stray newspapers and straightening books. But as she learns, that gump can only stretch so far. Mildred hesitates for a moment, then gives.

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This website uses Pico to reflect your current subscription status, as well as keep you logged in. Leaving this enabled will mean that you don't need to log in each time you access this website to unlock articles. Does it sound like it could be a blood infection?

In the movie is was pneumonia. I haven't read the novel so presume they woulldn't change the cause of death. Pneumonia was a deadly disease like influenza in those days. I detest the term "chemistry" to describe actors playing people who are sexually attracted to each other, so let's just say these two are in perfect, ferocious sync. Imagine Bogie and Bacall in hell and you'll get the idea.

Winslet and Pearce don't just heat up Mildred Pierce ; they damn near burn it down. If for no other reason, you may want to tune in to see two actors at the height of their creative powers and physical beauty.

All the same, there are problems here. Haynes has shown his love for the Hollywood version of America's past before, most notably in the remarkable but equally hard to like Far From Heaven , and here it has gotten out of control. In words of one syllable? It's too damn long. I suppose that sounds impudent, coming from a guy who's written several doorstop-size novels, but I stand by it. In his memorable introduction to three of James M. Cain's early novels, Tom Wolfe wrote: "Picking up a Cain novel [is] like climbing into a car with one of those Superstockers who is up to forty by the time your right leg is in the door.

The Depression-era set decoration is perfect, and you get to appreciate all of it because Haynes lingers on each stucco bungalow, each deserted seaside road, each overdecorated Beverly Hills manse. There are soporific panning shots and at least one dolly-track sequence that seems well-nigh endless. Mildred and her friend, Lucy, are at the seashore, and I began to think they were going to walk all the way to San Diego. Perhaps even Mexico City. There are enough shots of a pensive Winslet seen through rain-beaded windshields to make you feel like screaming.

Yes, she's beautiful, I kept thinking, so why the hell isn't the director getting her to do something more interesting than staring at the windshield wiper? Cain's novels are quick, hard stabs to the heart. The original paperback version of Mildred Pierce was only pages. You could read the whole thing aloud before the miniseries finishes.

I think Cain would marvel at the acting and production values, but roll his eyes at the plodding pace. Who's to say that "Mildred Pierce" is not just an idiosyncratic working out of some bee in Cain's personal psychic bonnet, say, because a controlling mother stomped on his own operatic ambitions by telling him he had no talent.

I think Turner is tremendous in a part that is, for a variety of reasons, exceptionally hard to play, especially for a young girl, and putting it over and doing a credible job in the piano-playing scenes to boot! Veda is a bad apple and we're supposed to find her off-putting, even toxic -- a prematurely hostile and bitter person who's going out of her way to undermine and destroy her mother.

There are moments when the two seem authentically, if unnervingly, bonded -- as in the scene after Veda's first lesson with the maestro; the tearful Veda expresses relief that the hateful old man has decided to take her as a student, and Mildred seems relieved that Veda is relieved.

But such moments are few and far between. I find the generally tense, ugly feeling in the Veda-Mildred scenes credible, if unpleasant. People don't like to talk about this, but sometimes parents and children despise each other for reasons that aren't really anyone's fault; and sometimes a child, for reasons of temperament or brain chemistry or a combination of nature and nurture factors, is just a straight-up incorrigible brat.

It's bad luck. Whatever errors Mildred might have made as a parent, I think that's the case here, and it's part of her tragedy. Sticky Header Night Mode. Related Topics Mildred Pierce Television.



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