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Film

The lovely liberals

Julia

directed by Fred Zinnemann Kings

Julia opens with an evening shot of a woman sitting in a boat fishing. Over the soundtrack we hear her voice recalling events from her past, and telling us (quite pointedly) that she knows her memory well, when it is failing her and when it is not, and that this time she knows she is telling the truth.

Her story (which forms the bulk of the film) concerns her friendship with Julia (Vanessa Redgrave), a daughter of the rich who developed an anti-fascist political commitment which led to underground work and eventual death in 1930s Furope.

The storyteller is Lillian Heilman (Jane Fonda), a writer who became a staunch opponent of McCarthyism during the 1950s and the film is taken from her story of the same name. That Heilman obviously believes fervently in the truth of the story as she tells it is important for two reasons.

First, from our point of view any "truth" there is has been filtered through Heilman's mind into written form, and from there into director Fred Zinnemann's film interpretation.

Zinnemann plays on this. It is remarkably difficult throughout to accurately date the events. At one stage Lillian visits Julia in a Viennese hospital; when later she tries to trace Julia through the hospital she is told that such a person was never there. After Julia's death everyone denies knowledge of her, and a search for Julia's illegitimate baby is equally fruitless. The bulk of the two women s relationship is developed through scenes of their childhood at Julia's grandparents' mansion, yet when Lillian returns there the servants deny any knowledge of her.

Although these things can all be easily explained, they do seem to suggest that "truth" is less important than the effect an idea of the "truth" can have. Shades of Blow-up...?

Secondly, this concern with the truth is essentially unimportant to the viewer. We approach the film as fiction. Whatever its historical basis, it is the themes which must tell us why Hellman values her experience so highly and why she thinks the story should be told. We do not want to learn about the real "Julia", we want to learn from the things her fictionalised self represents. The film's failing is that it does not do this.

There appear to be three major themes: friendship between two women, the hardships and joys of writing, and political commitment. The first is clearly central, yet the film contains very little real development of the adult relationship between Lillian and Julia. The childhood scenes are spread throughout the film, and do not shed extra light on Julia's character or the relationship (as is usually the case) but are the only elements of substance which formulate them. Any expectation that the nature of such a relationship is important will be thwarted in favour of the consequences to one of the women of a childhood friendship.

Is it a film about memory then? If so, why is Heilman so adamant that it must be taken as the truth? Surely it would be a mistake to see Zinneman's Blow-up echoes as anything more than peripheral.

The writing aspect works for what it is meant to be. Perhaps this is because the scenes this involves, with pounding surf, moonlight bonfires, a hideaway cottage and moments of "artistic temperament" are best fitted to the romantic atmosphere of the film. Perhaps it is because none of the thematic complications which beset the rest of the film are allowed to creep in. Certainly the excellent acting of Jason Robards as Dashiell Hammett, the man Lillian lives with, has a lot to do with it.

However the last major theme, political commitment, comes in for some heavy knocks. Because the story has almost nothing to do with Julia's adult life there are virtually no politics in it. The society in which Lillian moves is entirely apolitical and seemingly oblivious of the spread of fascism around them. When Lillian meets Julia in Berlin she asks her why things have come to such a pass. Julia doesn't answer: she knows it cannot be explained in two minutes to a person who must ask the question in the first place. The film has moments of fascist thuggery and worker resistance which give some idea of life under a fascist dictatorship but even these are not expounded upon and no attempt is made to examine how and why fascism [unclear: grows] Finally when Lillian returns home she is shaken by what she has learnt but there is no indication that she is gaining any political consciousness.

Thus the second major expectation one might be forgiven for walking into the film with is proven false. Julia is not about politics, especially not about fascism. There is no reason why it should be, but the fact is worth knowing.

Unfortunately the one thing which would have made this a much deeper and stronger film, satisfying both emotional and political demands, is absent. Without an analysis of why Julia chose a political life the film had to remain without foundation.

Julia must be saluted for its acting. (Fonda especially is right on form), mellow and composed photography (another suggestion of fiction?) and for the fact that it tells a story well. That it is about women is also important, but given this initial step it does very little to actually face up to the circumstances the protagonists are in. Politically, it is founded on the same assumption as Cabaret, that fascism is an awful thing and when things get too tough one better get back to the home country where things like that don't happen. At least in Cabaret the workings of fascism are more effectively explored.

Simon Wilson