David O'ConnellPerfume: The Story of a Murderer
January 14th 2009 02:28
It’s always a daunting task to translate a popular work of fiction to film, even more so for German director Tom Tykwer who decided upon countryman Patrick Suskind’s phenomenal bestseller from the 80’s, Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, as his next project back in 2006. Deemed unfilmable for years, it contains an explicit finale fraught with potential cinematic disaster - one that could prove ludicrous if not captured with exactly the right tone.
Has Tykwer succeeded in his quest? Ultimately no, I don’t think he has, but the film still has its virtues despite being hamstrung by peculiar cast choices and a lack of uniformity in accents amongst other things, issues which are more irritating than anything else (especially a ridiculously incongruous British accent for the main character, born and bred in France).
Suskind’s vivid creation, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille (Ben Whishaw), is born in the filth beneath his mother’s market stall in grimy Paris, 1738 and, surviving against incalculable odds as an orphan he remains an outsider, striking a chord of fear in other children with his presence alone as well as his propensity for ghoulish preoccupations. His most notable gift is his sense of smell, a talent exceeding that of any other man, and though it seems a concept bound to severe limitations in a cinematic sense, Tykwer’s opening shot – on Grenouille’s nose as his body retracts into shadows - gives a hint of the worthy attempt he’ll make in giving the story visual life beyond the minds of millions of readers.
Grenouille develops a remarkable range for identifying every person, place or thing within miles by its scent, and though he doesn’t know it at an early age, one particular scent will attract his attention to the degree of no other, one that will determine his life’s direction - that of intoxicatingly beautiful young virgins.
Whilst enduring a stint of brutal hardship at a tannery, his first opportunity for advancement comes when making a delivery to a fading star of his field, the disconsolate perfumer Baldini (Dustin Hoffman). Seizing his opportunity to wow the old man with his gift for identifying every component of the hottest perfume on the market, Grenouille provides evidence of his talent that Baldini finds impossible to deny or ignore.
Working tirelessly to learn his trade whilst anonymously concocting dozens of magical new formulas for Baldini, Grenouille gradually uncovers the skills needed to overcome his greatest frustration: the eternal preservation of fleeting smells, like that of the ravishing virginal beauty who became his first victim in a Parisian back alley. Many more victims follow in the town of Grasse - considered by Baldini as the ultimate testing ground for budding perfumers - as Grenouille works towards his ultimate aim of savoring one irrepressible scent above all others.
Tykwer’s film is a sumptuous, detailed and faithful adaptation of Suskind’s novel, though perhaps its greatest weakness is the casting of the relatively unknown Whishaw as the conniving, emotionless Grenouille. He simply lacks presence, not to mention the menace and grotesquery of Suskind’s character, and so the threat he poses isn’t dramatically heightened to the proportions of an iconic screen villain such as Hannibal Lecter.
At 130 minutes, Perfume is overlong too with a fairly languid pace, though John Hurt’s excellent narration, providing illuminating snippets of Suskind’s text, helps offset that somewhat, and makes the entire film more comprehensible for those not familiar with the source material. Dustin Hoffman, as great an actor as he is, seems horribly out of place as Baldini, with another phony accent and exaggerated mannerisms that seem to disjoint the narrative for a while. Later on, Alan Rickman fares much better as Richis, the father of Grenouille’s final object of desire, Laura (Rachel Hurd-Wood).
Perfume can be seen as a bleak tragedy, an outsider’s lament, a subversive, ironic tale about how one man’s destiny provides the ultimate power whilst the one thing he really wants is the only thing to elude him. Ultimately, it’s the revulsion of his fellow humans and the ease with which they fall under his spell that dooms him to the darkest bowels of a depression that sees him sacrificing everything to escape them.
Though much better told in the novel, Tom Tykwer’s film does have some effective moments of compelling drama, many of which are aided by the haunting, evocative score he co-composed with regular collaborators Reinhold Heil and Johnny Klimek. Thankfully, if you’ve read the book, you’ll also be delirious to know that its most memorable scene does get translated onto the screen - one involving a suddenly lustful crowd of 10,000 or more!!
Has Tykwer succeeded in his quest? Ultimately no, I don’t think he has, but the film still has its virtues despite being hamstrung by peculiar cast choices and a lack of uniformity in accents amongst other things, issues which are more irritating than anything else (especially a ridiculously incongruous British accent for the main character, born and bred in France).
Suskind’s vivid creation, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille (Ben Whishaw), is born in the filth beneath his mother’s market stall in grimy Paris, 1738 and, surviving against incalculable odds as an orphan he remains an outsider, striking a chord of fear in other children with his presence alone as well as his propensity for ghoulish preoccupations. His most notable gift is his sense of smell, a talent exceeding that of any other man, and though it seems a concept bound to severe limitations in a cinematic sense, Tykwer’s opening shot – on Grenouille’s nose as his body retracts into shadows - gives a hint of the worthy attempt he’ll make in giving the story visual life beyond the minds of millions of readers.
Grenouille develops a remarkable range for identifying every person, place or thing within miles by its scent, and though he doesn’t know it at an early age, one particular scent will attract his attention to the degree of no other, one that will determine his life’s direction - that of intoxicatingly beautiful young virgins.
Ben Whishaw is the underwhelming embodiment of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille
Whilst enduring a stint of brutal hardship at a tannery, his first opportunity for advancement comes when making a delivery to a fading star of his field, the disconsolate perfumer Baldini (Dustin Hoffman). Seizing his opportunity to wow the old man with his gift for identifying every component of the hottest perfume on the market, Grenouille provides evidence of his talent that Baldini finds impossible to deny or ignore.
Working tirelessly to learn his trade whilst anonymously concocting dozens of magical new formulas for Baldini, Grenouille gradually uncovers the skills needed to overcome his greatest frustration: the eternal preservation of fleeting smells, like that of the ravishing virginal beauty who became his first victim in a Parisian back alley. Many more victims follow in the town of Grasse - considered by Baldini as the ultimate testing ground for budding perfumers - as Grenouille works towards his ultimate aim of savoring one irrepressible scent above all others.
Grenouille with his first teacher Baldini (Dustin Hoffman)
Tykwer’s film is a sumptuous, detailed and faithful adaptation of Suskind’s novel, though perhaps its greatest weakness is the casting of the relatively unknown Whishaw as the conniving, emotionless Grenouille. He simply lacks presence, not to mention the menace and grotesquery of Suskind’s character, and so the threat he poses isn’t dramatically heightened to the proportions of an iconic screen villain such as Hannibal Lecter.
Alan Rickman as Richis
At 130 minutes, Perfume is overlong too with a fairly languid pace, though John Hurt’s excellent narration, providing illuminating snippets of Suskind’s text, helps offset that somewhat, and makes the entire film more comprehensible for those not familiar with the source material. Dustin Hoffman, as great an actor as he is, seems horribly out of place as Baldini, with another phony accent and exaggerated mannerisms that seem to disjoint the narrative for a while. Later on, Alan Rickman fares much better as Richis, the father of Grenouille’s final object of desire, Laura (Rachel Hurd-Wood).
Rachel Hurd-Wood as Laura
Perfume can be seen as a bleak tragedy, an outsider’s lament, a subversive, ironic tale about how one man’s destiny provides the ultimate power whilst the one thing he really wants is the only thing to elude him. Ultimately, it’s the revulsion of his fellow humans and the ease with which they fall under his spell that dooms him to the darkest bowels of a depression that sees him sacrificing everything to escape them.
Though much better told in the novel, Tom Tykwer’s film does have some effective moments of compelling drama, many of which are aided by the haunting, evocative score he co-composed with regular collaborators Reinhold Heil and Johnny Klimek. Thankfully, if you’ve read the book, you’ll also be delirious to know that its most memorable scene does get translated onto the screen - one involving a suddenly lustful crowd of 10,000 or more!!
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Comment by Janet Collins
Acceptable Etiquette
The Social Critic
Janet Collins Blog
Given a little time, I will probably enjoy it. Great review though.
Janet
Comment by Cibbuano
Hunt Famous
Orble Post of the Day
Fat Cult
Techbreak
Too slick and shiny! Grenouille was meant to be repulsive, but that lead actor was too pretty-boy to do the part, and wasn't good enough to act.
I didn't find that the film captured the essence of the book well at all - the delirious joy of scent and aroma... I learnt quite a bit from the book, about perfumes and scents...
Comment by Michelle Sweeney
Competition Queen
Always Learning
Cinema Voyage
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Hey Michelle, it's not entirely without interest, and I'm sure people who haven't read the book will appreciate it more - though it's a bit of an endurance test for anybody!