The Beguiled

Don Siegel's 1971 Civil War drama "The Beguiled" starred an effective Clint Eastwood, playing against type, as a Yankee cad who gets wounded and cared for by a gaggle of gals who have remained at Miss Martha Farnsworth Seminary for Young Ladies despite the war being fought around them. Not so oddly, the script leans in Eastwood's direction, in terms of sympathy, as the narrative unfolds and the movie becomes more about the women's revenge.

Sofia Coppola, fascinated with the film, decided to go back to the source material, the novel by Thomas Cullinan, and fashion her own beguiling version, which won her the Best Director award at Cannes last month (only the second female in history to do so).

Tightening the story and alluding to things that are blatant in the '71 version, Coppola tells her saga from the point of view of the women and gives the motives of the man more ambiguity, at least at first (almost in a reversal of the original film).

The filmmaker smartly omits an incest subplot designed to villainize the main character.

She also, curiously, dispensed with a slave character, Hallie (portrayed by Mae Mercer in the original film). Coppola explains, "The subject is a very important one, and I didn't want to brush over it lightly." It is a shame, because the inclusion of Hallie may have allowed for even more layers.

Regardless, Coppola's rendition of " The Beguiled" is a chilly and chilling tale of female camaraderie challenged and shattered by the entrance of a male figure into their slightly bored, but anxiety-ridden, world.

The basic plot remains the same as the older pic. The setting is Virginia in 1864. While picking mushrooms in the woods, young Amy (Oona Lawrence) stumbles upon an injured Union soldier, Corporal John McBurney (Colin Farrell) and helps him back to the boarding school where the headmistress, Martha Farnsworth (Nicole Kidman) is, initially, none too pleased. It is decided the ladies will help him heal first, and then give him up to the Confederate army.

In a very short time, each of the seven girls is, in different ways, intrigued by McBurney and tries to win favor with him. "Seems like the soldier being here is having an effect," Miss Martha slightly sarcastically says as she sees each girl making sure they look especially good around him.

Chief among them is the modest, sweet, but disheartened teacher, Edwina (Kirsten Dunst), who sees McBurney as an escape, while the younger Alicia (Elle Fanning) is more about seduction and fanning her own ego (you can intend the pun). The three other girls are younger and rather interchangeable.

As the sexual tension mounts, McBurney seems to be toying with all of them, and then makes the obvious and predictable decision in whom he chooses to bed (obvious and predictable, relating to the nature of most men), which has its repercussions that Coppola examines in a most hypnotic and riveting manner.

The writer-director chooses the less obvious route than her predecessor, creating a visual atmosphere where nothing feels very inviting and there is little beauty -- except for the women themselves. Everything else feels rotten and rotted. Coppola's characters are more bound by their faith (at least, they pretend to be) and by the mores and manners of the time.

The film explores the repression and surface prudent behavior of the South, where everyone is just so proper and dignified, even amidst the worst indignities. But right below that surface is a Lynchian festering, which includes wanton sexual behavior waiting to be unleashed. Coppola does not discriminate; she has some key things to say about how both sexes behave when they long for one another and/or feel betrayed.

This film is quite different from Coppola's past work, subtly but piercingly probing subjugation and a stewing rage born from an upside down culture.

Coppola enjoys keeping her audience at a distance, sometimes squinting at what is being photographed (masterfully by Philippe Le Sourd) in long shots onscreen, even up until the haunting final shot.

The actors are uniformly excellent.

Farrell is one of most underrated thesps alive, and here he works his sexy magic. We get why everyone wants him. And he plays all the ladies nicely. The actor certainly has more nuance than Eastwood (at least more than he was willing to show) but Farrell displays a vulnerability that makes this turn mesmerizing.

Dunst conveys so much without speaking. In the original film, the extraordinary Elizabeth Hartman played Edwina as a fragile flower. Dunst is stronger but no less gentle.

Kidman continues to challenge herself as an actress and, therefore, pushes the envelope when it comes to bold choices. They all pay off here as she shows us a decidedly carnally repressed woman who wields her power in other ways. She commands her girls and never loses her power. Does her rash decision in the third act really warrant such drastic action? We'll never know. Kidman has much fun with a tricky balance of erotically charged sensuality and deliberate frigidity.

Some of the early reviews (from mostly male crix) claimed the film was lacking suspense. I can only imagine they mean traditional crap-action movie suspense. Coppola is all about creating a different kind of suspense altogether -- an anticipation and excitement that gives way to uncomfortable deception and sexual trickery. In the end, we are left bewitched, bothered, perhaps a little bewildered, but with so much food for thought about what people are capable of when they're pushed to their own limits. Coppola is creating her own dynamic here. You might refuse to accept it, but that doesn't make it any less significant.

Who exactly is beguiling whom in "The Beguiled?" For Coppola, the answer doesn't matter as much as the exploration.