John Irving novels, as adapted for the screen, have an annoying inscrutability to them. Not one of his movies doesn’t tempt one into reaching for the highest compliments one can give to a storyteller—the characters live, themes echo beautifully through a satisfying plot, the sharpness of observation is that of a true artist—but always, in the end, it all collapses into a muddle.
“The Door In The Floor” is in some ways the best Irving adaptation, but in others it’s also the most maddening. The film belongs to Jeff Bridges, whose manipulative Ted Cole is humbled in his various queer attempts to use his art to influence the lives of those around him. Figuring out what he’s going to do next, or the angle he’s playing out behind that deeply experienced poker face, is always enjoyable. No psychological game is beyond him, as when he insists on blaring an excessively vulgar hip-hop song during a tense ride home with Eddie (a dewy John O’Hare).
Bridges elicits sympathy for this man and his machinations, though. In the end one wonders if even he understands the games he’s playing. The film scatters his understated intensity by surrounding him with a colorful puppet show. The love affair between Eddie and Marion (Kim Basinger) doesn’t mean a whole lot. Director Tod Williams has some scathingly honest moments between them, such as Marion walking in on a particularly private moment for Eddie, or the extra bit of arousal Marion needs to give herself while the inexperienced boy plugs away. Otherwise these are mere phantoms to flit about Ted’s life while he figures a few things out.
Irving is often called Dickensian, but Dickens’ energy usually worked to bring a moral focus back to the hero. Irving seems to know that, but doing it is another thing. Here the many rich little moments Irving and Williams bring out are comic assets but, in the end, drift into the category of surplus emotional material. Ted’s hard-won moment of self-discovery is well-played, but such a simple resolution cannot escape the weight of that excess baggage. |