The funny thing, in the sense of odd rather than comedic, about CASSANDRA’S DREAM is that even though it is filmed in color, it is remembered in black and white. In Woody Allen’s lastest film, he returns to his consideration of morality, this time through the lens of classical Greek tragedy. Two brothers, Ian (Ewan McGregor) and Terry (Colin Farrel) each basically decent but each with a fatal flaw that allows the devil of the piece, fabulously wealthy Uncle Howard (Tom Wilkinson), to tempt them from what they know to be right. The film as a whole could easily be distilled down to the dialogue between these two, as they parse, dissect, justify, and regret their decisions that led to temptation, and the decision about what they did in the face of it. This is a sophisticated and unvarnished consideration of fate versus human nature, written with an archly intellectual perspective, but brought to poignant life by the actors in question. They are true to their characters in ways that their characters are not true to themselves, and that is just the beginning of the many ironies to be found here.
The title refers to the boat that the brothers buy at the start of the film. Joyous with futures that they think are bright if not exactly in the bag, they make the down payment partly with the winnings Terry received betting on a dog of the same name at the track. In classical mythology, Cassandra, it should be remembered, was the priestess of Apollo who was given the gift of prophecy and the curse of no one ever believing her. And so it is with dozens of little warning signs slyly slipped into the story. The icy actress (Hayley Atwell) for whom Ian falls so hard that he’s willing to do anything to keep her demonstrates beyond doubt that she is as loyal as her ambition will allow her be. Terry, the sweet compulsive gambler, respects that all winning streaks go cold, but loses control. The boys’ mother praises her brother, ci-mentioned Uncle Howard, the plastic surgeon who made his fortune putting faces as false as his own on rich patients, as the paragon of familial devotion, even though he goes years without seeing her. It’s a subtle but persistent theme that has its ultimate reflection in the self-delusion of each brother. It’s only when Terry wakes up, that tragedy builds on tragedy as the story hurtles toward the only possible outcome, but one that is staggeringly potent nonetheless. Terry and Ian are weak but moral, cursing fate from one minute to the next until they do their own tempting of it and it makes playthings of them. Uncle Howard is strong but morally bankrupt, seizing fate and twisting it to his liking. Fairness is not the point here, though justice is, and that, in the final analysis, is what creates that potency.
McGregor and Farrell as two halves of the same conscience are a perfect symbiosis. The former desperately clinging to an increasingly problematic optimism, while the latter’s abused gentleness and profound sensitivity eventually yawning into an abyss of despair. Wilkinson, one of the finest actors working today, is a marvel as Howard plays the brothers with a cold and calculated ruthlessness beneath a mild exterior, using ersatz sentiment to home in on their weakest points, feigning anguish that his family would not help him by violating the law and their consciences in his hour of need.
CASSANDRA’S DREAM is more that just an object lesson, or a cautionary tale, it is a cathartic experience of, you’ll pardon the expression, mythic proportions.
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