Men from Mars, women from Venus

Noel Vera

Ray Lawrence's "Lantana" is a strange, hothouse creature: like the
plant that gives it its title, it holds delicate leaves and flowers
up for display, while hidden underneath is a dense thicket of thorny
branches--perhaps containing a woman's leather shoe, perhaps a body
with long legs and black hose, the hand twisted to show a wedding
band. This is the opening image, and for the rest of the film, we
hold the image of that woman in our minds, wondering what terrible
secrets will be revealed.

In the meantime Lawrence places several people up front for our
examination: Officer Leon Zat (Anthony LaPaglia) and Jane (Rachel
Blake); Dr. Valerie Somers (Barbara Hershey) and her patient,
Patrick (Peter Phelps); Somers' other patient, Sonja (Kerry
Armstrong); Somer's husband, John Knox (Geoffrey Rush); and Jane's
neighbors, Nik and Paula Daniels (Vince Colosimo and Daniela
Farinacci). We see Zat in bed with Jane--they're married, but not to
each other; we see Dr. Somers listening to Patrick, who talks about
his affair with a married man--a man Dr. Somers starts to suspect
must be her husband, John; we see Sonja talking to Dr. Somers,
telling her that she suspects her husband Zat is having an affair;
we see Jane, alone and looking out her window, sometimes at her
neighbor Paula, sometimes at her neighbor's husband Nik.

It's a rather complicated tangle of stories (much like the branches
of the lantana bush), and Lawrence does an admirable job of keeping
each thread distinct and coherent. A theme gradually emerges, of
marriages gone awry, and husbands and wives suffering, often
silently, as a result. Zat is the biggest casualty, or at least the
putative focus of the film--he can't seem to focus on his job, he at
one point uses his partner to lie to his wife, and, in perhaps the
most disturbing scene in the film, he goes out jogging, crashes into
a fellow pedestrian, completely loses his temper, drags the helpless
pedestrian to his feet and threatens him. Dr. Somers tries her best
to heal these people, but she can't help as much as she likes
because she's a casualty herself--she can't get through to her
husband Paul, who seems as distant and preoccupied as all the other
men. Her thoughts on her husband occupy her mind to the point that
she runs her car off the road; she makes desperate calls to her
house, but only a machine answers the phone; finally, she tells her
absent husband that she sees a car, and intends to hitch a ride. She
doesn't come home that night. Paul calls the police, and Zat is
assigned to investigate.

"Lantana" is based on Andrew Bovell's play "Speaking in Tongues"
(nice title--probably a reference to the confusion at the Tower of
Babel, perhaps the first massive communications breakdown in
history), and it's as cleverly plotted as any murder mystery.
Perhaps too clever--Bovell's story depends on too many incredible
coincidences, even for a fairly small town where, one assumes,
everyone must know almost everyone else. Perhaps more stylization
would help the audience glide over the more unlikely parts, a style
not unlike the subtropical nightmare look Lawrence gave his first
feature film, "Bliss" back in 1985 (this is his second feature). But
Lawrence opts for mostly low-key storytelling, with perhaps a few
striking images here and there--the opening image, for example, or
Hershey alone at the phone booth--and the realism tends to work
against the fantastical twists and turns that drive the plot.

If you can get past the implausible story (a big if), there are many
satisfying things to enjoy in this film, not the least of which is
the cast. Anthony LaPaglia (it's a small shock to learn he's from
Adelaide) gives what may be the performance of his career as the
self-destructive Zat; Geoffrey Rush is excellent (as usual) as the
quieter but equally self-destructive Paul; Vince Colosimo looks
appealingly lost when undergoing a domestic crisis as the hapless
homebody Nik. Good as the men are, however, the women are even
better; are--if anything--devastatingly beautiful (Lawrence must
have a thing for middle-aged women): Barbara Hershey as the
deceptively calm Dr. Somers; Rachel Blake as the lonely, hungry
Jane; Kerry Armstrong as the magnificently sculpted Sonja. Each of
the women totally inhabit their characters and are such fascinating
social and sexual creatures that you want to see more, not less of
them; it actually annoyed me when Hershey's Dr. Somers disappears
more than halfway through the film.

Then there's the way the film sets up expectations, and deftly
confounds them. A few minutes into the dialogue between Patrick and
Dr. Somers you can already guess that his lover is her husband,
which tends to make you think less of the filmmakers for the
relative predictability; later you realize that Dr. Somers must
suspect Patrick all along, and that the whole point of their
extensive sessions is her masochistic need to confront her rival for
her husband's affections, maybe even defeat him. Just when you think
you've reached the most basic layer of truth, you learn of yet
another layer of delusion, deceit and betrayal. When you finally hit
rock bottom, you realize that terrible secrets have been outed, all
right--they just weren't the ones you were expecting.

For those who remember the wildly imaginative "Bliss"--the elephant
sitting on the car hood, the tongue or whatever it is shooting out
of the mouth (or whatever it is), the strangely beautiful, strangely
poignant ending involving honeybees--"Lantana" is welcome work from
someone who hasn't been heard from for over sixteen years. Lawrence
here shows he's every bit as adept at handling realistic (if still
oddly skewed) drama, at sketching complex relationships and totally
engaging human characters. If it's not as unique a vision as "Bliss"
was, it's still fascinating enough to merit a look.

(First published in Businessworld, Sept. 19, 2003)

(Questions? Email me at noelbotevera@...)