Director
Neil Jordan’s The End of the Affair
tells a tale of striking emotional and spiritual depth. Set in a war-torn English society, the plot is not so much driven by the action of its
surroundings but by one central emotion: love: the way it torments the human
soul, breeds betrayal, regret, longing and leaves three characters unfulfilled
by the movie’s end. One might expect a story centered on such emotional
turbulence might become dull, devoid of the activity and humor of many
contemporary forms of entertainment. Yet Jordan’s work really struck a chord
within me with its depiction of such raw human emotion and the tormented
characters of Maurice Bendrix (Ralph Fiennes), Sarah Miles (Julianne Moore),
and Henry Miles (Stephen Rea). As Maurice Bendrix toils with the gravity of his
jealousy, as Sarah Miles kneels defeated before God in a prayer of desperation
and sacrificial offering, as Henry sits stoically yet devastated on that rainy
evening gazing onward, Jordan creates such human portraits with his characters:
characters that bow to human passion, struggle with faith, and seek to navigate
the intricate and delicate web of relationships created by their desires and
failings. With his character’s facial expressions and tones of voice, Jordan
presents such authentic characters whose emotions extend beyond the movie to
touch the audience with their potency. Even in the act of depicting Henry
Miles’ feelings of detachment from his wife, Jordan attaches his character to
the audience ever more closely with his wrinkled, defeated face, content with
his wife as a mere commodity and reminder of normalcy in his life, essentially replaceable
“like his newspaper”. After reading an overview of Graham Greene’s novel The End of the Affair, the movie does
seem to fail in one regard. Jordan extends the film to include a rekindling of
the affair that never is spoken of in the book. In the movie, Sarah Miles dies,
seemingly as a result of her renewed affair and broken promise to God. Jordan
seems to suggest that those who break promises will be punished while Greene’s
tale suggests that the end of the affairs brings redemption to Sarah. The tale remains one of retribution by God
yet takes a much darker course in Jordan’s version. Doing so seems to just
contribute inessential weightiness to Jordan’s already ponderous tale.
Jordan
uses perspective so skillfully in his movie. He recasts scenes from different
point of views as the plot unfolds in the eyes of the central character Maurice
Bendrix. For example, in the scene where Maurice is launched off the balcony by
the bomb, the audience initially witnesses this jarring occurrence from
Maurice’s perspective. Sarah’s praying seems uncharacteristic as well as impractical
to the audience and Maurice in light of the medical attention he obviously
needs. Yet Maurice and the audience share the same limited point of view at
this point. As Maurice reads Sarah’s diary, he and the audience uncover that
startling moment in her life through her own eyes. The intensity of Sarah’s
love for Maurice then comes alive in this moment, the need for prayer to seek
some relief from her suffering and desperation and resultant beseeching of God
for intervention. This technique applied by Jordan has two major effects for
its viewers. Firstly, it makes Maurice’s realizations about Sarah’s character
all the more startling for the audience, as they too are uncovering this
information for the first time. By shattering his audience’s conceptions of
reality, Jordan further deepens the substance of his characters, who have the
potential for such a wide scope of courses of action with their complex mental
states. Also, the story becomes a mystery, with details left unclear in the
viewer’s mind being resolved in a powerful flourish late in the work. The aura
of mystery adds suspense to the work as the viewer yearns to discover what
detail will be made clear next. A story that initially seemed devoid of any
spiritual implication with seemingly agnostic characters gains such spiritual
worth with the realization of the importance of God’s presence looming over its
course.
Labeled
as a “Catholic novel” by Greene, The End
of the Affair has obvious spiritual importance. Maurice labels the story he
writes as a “diary of hate”, and it gradually becomes clear that this hatred is
addressed towards God for ridding him of Sarah, for winning over the hearts of
men and women in abstraction, for possessing Sarah so fully, so much more
completely than Maurice despite his physical closeness with her for some time.
Duty to God was a powerful theme throughout “The Power and the Glory” as the
whiskey priest felt torn between his own sinfulness and call to ministry. Sarah
suffers a similar torment, as her offering of self to Christ calls for a
renouncing of her sexual intimacy with Maurice that she cannot fully renounce.
God seems to offer redemption to Sarah, who becomes a figure of healing and
grace, ridding a young boy of his birth mark with a kiss and dedicating herself
to prayer. Redemptive grace has been a theme Greene has explored in many cases.
Some examples include the whiskey priest redeeming the self in his quest
throughout Mexico and the young boy in “The Hint of an Explanation” sinning by
Blacker’s poisonous hand but then receiving God’s grace and calling to the
priesthood. Greene seems to suggest that redemption is available to those who
are open to God, that the good will be rewarded despite man’s sinfulness and
struggle as they are inherent parts of the human experience. Jordan ultimately has Sarah renounce her
faithfulness, leaving her to her own devices and demise by terminal illness.
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