Jane Campion’s The Piano, released in 1993, is a haunting, strange, strikingly beautiful and bold film unlike any other I have ever seen. It plunges headlong into the cold, desolate New Zealand beaches and the enchanting, intimate, and claustrophobic bush made up of brilliant blues and greens so vibrant it looks unearthly. The surreal quality and otherworldly nature captured in the underwater scene, which is not quite in slow motion, but not shot in real time either, invests the entire film. The movie might seem minimalistic and even sparse, but the universe it creates is one fervid with feeling and images of a dreamlike, unreal, mysterious lyricism.
The
petite, black and white clad Ada (Holly Hunter in an Academy Award wining performance), with her pale skin, large dark eyes and hair
parted severely in the middle and constrained twofold by a bun and a bonnet, is
as out of place and incongruous in this environment as her English Broadwood
piano is on the grey beach in the wind and rain. But just as Ada seems
reserved, restrained, and remote, the film, too, is only deceptively small and
quiet; like its main character, The Piano
hides, under a discreet exterior, surprising strength and sexual passion.
Nothing is quite what it appears in Jane Campion’s romantic, unique movie.
***This essay contains only mild spoilers, probably not much more than any review of the film.
***This essay contains only mild spoilers, probably not much more than any review of the film.
