Robert Benton's The Human Stain, from 2003, sunk like a stone leaving no trace upon its release. This version of Philip Roth's justly praised novel had few critical defenders at the time except for Andrew Sarris who was Benton's lifelong supporter and, I think, a friend. I am somewhat reserved about Benton and avoided the film until my curiosity was piqued after reading and enjoying the novel. I mostly agree with A. O. Scott who described the book as "a B+ literary adaptation."
Nicholas Meyer adaptation is a sensible and sturdy paring down of Roth's book. The children of the protagonist, Coleman Silk, (played by Anthony Hopkins) have been eliminated. This was a move that was necessary to keep the project under two hours, but lessens our sense of Silk's arrogance and insularity. Most of the academic politics of the book, Silk is a classics professor and former dean of a small liberal arts college in Western Massachusetts, have been jettisoned. This is not bad in itself, but it tilts the action towards the central romantic relationship between Silk and Faunia Farley, a member of the janitorial staff of Silk's college. This relationship is problematic both onscreen and on the page for reasons I will cite in a moment. Meyer shifts a concert Coleman and Faunia attend at Tanglewood indoors to a church which has no effect on the storyline, but must have delighted the producer for economic reasons. I appreciated that Meyer retained the basic structure of the novel, ending with a note of menace that could only have come from Roth's splenetic pen.
The meat of Roth's book remains. Silk has lost his position at the college after using a term that was perceived as a racial slur. He has been traumatized by this and his wife's subsequent demise. His romance with Faunia, who is dealing with trauma of her own, gives him a chance to spiritually regenerate and come to terms with a lifelong secret. Silk is a black man who has been passing as white for over forty years. The film, like the book, details his background in flashback. His repudiation of his family, and vice versa, is as effectively painful onscreen as it is in the novel.
Most critics in 2003 felt that the leads of this films had been miscast. I largely agree about Hopkins and Nicole Kidman's casting, but also feel the same about Gary Sinise who plays Nathan Zuckerman, Roth's usual stand-in and narrator. Sinise is neither old enough, nasty enough or Jewish enough. Like Hopkins and Kidman, Sinise is an outstanding performer who, like Hopkins and Kidman, is never bad, per se. However, even fellow goy John Cusack would have been a better pick. Sinise is too much a cornfed Midwestern All-American for the role. Fans of his screen work should hunt down video copies of his work onstage in True West and The Grapes of Wrath. I thought Henry Fonda's performance as Tom Joad would never be equaled until I saw Sinise play the same role.
Silk is a problematic role for any white actor fill and, because of that, I'm not sure this film could be made today. Wentworth Miller, who is biracial, plays the younger Silk and he is an interesting counterpoint to Hopkins. Miller is a fairly wooden performer, but since his character is imprisoned by society's racial constraints, this is not fatal to his performance. Miller is convincing physically in the scenes depicting Silk's career as a Golden Gloves boxer. Hopkins is physically unconvincing: whether it be working the bag, making sweet love with Kidman or in dance sequences with both Kidman and Sinise. Physical grace is a key to this character who is out of touch with spiritual grace. The short sequence of Hopkins jogging with Kidman is particularly gruesome. Hopkins never floats like a butterfly in the role and only stings like a bee verbally. Whenever he is lecturing on Homer or eviscerating a colleague, Hopkins is in his wheelhouse and he does justice to Roth's bon mots.
Kidman is not coarse enough for her role, but it is difficult to imagine any actress suited to a role that exists in Philip Roth's fervid imagination rather than reality. Faunia is a live for the moment gal who left a privileged background to plumb the lower depths where some greater truth resides, but only those found in novels. The character is saddled not only with dead children, but a vengeful Vietnam veteran ex. That character is the most unbelievably stock one in the book, but Ed Harris handles the cliched role with aplomb; at least he seems to be an American. Kidman certainly fills the role of a fantasy figure, but her lack of chemistry with Hopkins is palpable. Apparently, her chemistry with Roth wasn't much better.
Benton is too much the avid craftsman to concoct an abject failure. There are impressive supporting performances by Harry Lennix, Clark Gregg, Anna Deavere Smith, Margo Martindale, and Ron Canada. I found The Human Stain a tolerable entertainment, certainly far above such cinematic travesties made from Roth novels as Goodbye Columbus and Portnoy's Complaint. The best film made from a Roth book is James Schamus' too little seen Indignation, but I have high hopes for Arnaud Desplechin's Deception.
The Human Stain was the final feature film from cinematographer Jean-Yves Escoffier to whom the film is dedicated. His films include Nurse Betty, Good Will Hunting, and the visually spectacular The Lovers on the Bridge. Gone too soon.
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