A Sony Pictures Entertainment Release of a Columbia Pictures Presentation of a Stephen Wooley Production; Produced by Stephen Wooley and Neil Jordan; Co-Produced by Kathy Sykes; Based on the novel by Graham Greene; Written for the Screen and Directed by Neil Jordan
Opens December 3, 1999
All right, I admit it. I was one of those few people who didn't like The English Patient. For reasons too numerous to mention, it didn't move me, and I have yet to understand what people saw in it. Neil Jordan's newest romantic drama The End of the Affair, adapted from Graham Greene's novel of the same name, is the film that The English Patient should have been. It is, without apology, an ardent expose of doomed love and the moral crisis it involves, minus the sweeping desert vistas and useless secondary story lines, thank you very much.
Although the film's credits claim that similarities to real people are purely coincidental, it is largely accepted that The End of the Affair is autobiographical, based on Graham Greene's experiences in the London of World War II. Against this backdrop, the world of writer Maurice Bendrix (Ralph Fiennes), his lover Sarah Miles (Julianne Moore) and her husband Henry (Steven Rea) comes alive, capturing a period when passion was the word of the day -- since no one knew if they would survive until the morning. This sense of passion, which volleys between subdued and explosive, is masterfully handled by Jordan and his actors, who expertly expose the vagaries of the human heart.
Employing flashbacks and voice-over from several points of view, Jordan manages to adapt what is one of Greene's more intellectually and spiritually complex novels. To Jordan's credit, he doesn't shy away from the religious nature of the film and, indeed, this is part of what makes the story so intriguing. We first meet our ambiguous hero Maurice Bendrix on a rainy London night where he has a chance meeting with Henry Miles, a former friend he hasn't seen in two years. Henry is convinced that his wife Sarah is having an affair, which strikes Bendrix as ironic since he and Sarah were once lovers.
Despite Henry's protestations, Bendrix hires a detective, Parkis (Ian Hart), to follow Sarah and chart her indiscretions. All he is able to turn up is a meeting with a priest (Jason Isaacs), who Bendrix jealously and inappropriately assumes is now Sarah's lover. In flash back, we begin to see the affair between Sarah and him as it unfolded in the past. A night at the movies -- suggested by the ever-busy and emotionally-unavailable Henry -- turns into a passionate sexual encounter and a mutual confession of love followed by secret encounters at Bendrix' flat as the bombs explode over London's skies.
The affair is cut short when Bendrix is seemingly killed in a bomb blast. Sarah, never the religious sort, prays to God, claiming that if He brings Bendrix back she will give him up forever and go back to her husband. When Bendrix staggers back into the room, very much alive, Sarah is devastated but, having witnessed a miracle, is determined to keep her promise. This is the core element of Greene's novel and, thankfully, Jordan doesn't shy away from it one bit. Sarah's acceptance of God and the consuming torture of staying true to her promise informs the rest of the film with a philosophical intensity rarely seen in movies today.
Back in the present, Bendrix reads Sarah's diary, which has been obtained by Parkis. Reading her desperate words -- I had tempted Fate and Fate had accepted -- he finally understands why she rejected him. Unable to remain apart, they again consummate their passion, devastating Henry when he learns the truth and accepts the fact that his reserved nature has irrevocably pushed Sarah away. In the end, there is a seen it coming from a mile away twist, but Jordan handles it with such grace that it only adds to the poignancy of the triangle b