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- REVIEWS, Page 72CINEMAFishing for A Useful Life
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- By RICHARD SCHICKEL
-
- TITLE: A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT
- DIRECTOR: Robert Redford
- WRITER: Richard Friedenberg
-
- THE BOTTOM LINE: Norman Maclean's evocative novella of
- amazing grace is captured with understated artistry.
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- "I am haunted by waters," Norman Maclean wrote at the end
- of A River Runs Through It, his memoir-novella about growing up
- in Montana in the early years of this century. The phrase is
- both appropriate and curious: appropriate because his little
- story (104 pages) is mostly about standing in mountain streams
- with his brother Paul, fly-fishing for trout; curious because
- Maclean's prose is dry and laconic, nothing watery about it. It
- does not rush or eddy or -- heaven forfend -- gurgle. It runs
- steady and clear, and beneath its surface you sense the darting
- shadows of powerful emotions -- big fish, as it were, which the
- writer shrewdly plays but never deigns to reel all the way in.
- The art for this old man, a college professor who did not begin
- to write until he retired from teaching, was all in the writerly
- casting of his lines, not in the melodrama of the catch.
-
- It is hard to think of any recent book that is a less
- likely candidate for screen adaptation. As it turns out, it is
- hard to remember a serious work that has been more faithfully
- or more entrancingly turned into a movie. Partly this is
- because the screenwriter, Richard Friedenberg, has gently
- expanded the original work, using family history gathered from
- the writer (who died in 1990) and his children. He has added
- some colorful boyhood anecdotes and, most important, has
- developed the boys' relationship with their father, a
- Presbyterian minister (Tom Skerritt), as well as Norman Mac
- lean's courtship of his wife, Jessie (Emily Lloyd), more fully
- than they are in the book. Partly it is because director Robert
- Redford has rigorously maintained the understated tone of a book
- that never plea-bargains, never asks outright for sympathy or
- understanding, yet ultimately, powerfully, elicits both.
-
- River is a film more of images than of confrontational
- dramatic scenes. It is held together by a narration drawn from
- the book and related (by Redford) over sequences of an Edenic
- Montana 70 years ago. Norman (Craig Sheffer) is the dutiful son,
- a young man soberly grappling throughout the film with the
- question of how to find and lead a useful life. Paul (Brad Pitt)
- is the classic younger brother and minister's son, a charming
- sower of wild oats. He works casually at a raffish trade,
- newspaper reporting. He drinks. He gambles. He womanizes
- carelessly. It is only on the river that he asserts his true
- strength as a guileful fisherman, a man who makes a hard-won
- skill look easy. Here (and here alone) he is clearly a better
- man than his father and his brother. But since, as Maclean says
- in the first sentence of his book, "there was no clear line
- between religion and fly-fishing" in his family, this is no
- small matter.
-
- In a sense Paul is the family artist, and that too is a
- consequential thing. Maclean again: "All good things come by
- grace, and grace comes by art, and art does not come easy." It
- is the central irony of this story that this careless,
- self-destructive and, as we realize early on, foredoomed figure
- achieves with ease that blessed state that his father and his
- brother, who are better people in the general, conventional way,
- can only envy. It is, perhaps, a further irony that grace
- settled upon Norman late in life, when, at last, he wrote about
- his brother in a book that is like a fisherman's perfectly
- placed fly -- light, dancing, teasing.
-
- All those qualities are preserved in Redford's cool,
- quiet, allusive and, in the best sense, poetic movie, rich in
- unforced metaphors and unforced, indeed often unspoken,
- feelings. It is a measure of this film's integrity that Paul's
- tragic and mysterious end occurs as it does in the book, and
- where it belongs -- offstage -- and that it is spoken of only
- briefly, dryly. We are, though, haunted by it.
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