Review: Lolita (1997)

Vladimir Nabokov's "Lolita", that is to say the novel, has to be one of the most despairing love stories ever written. Yes, it is the infamous tale of fortysomething Humbert Humbert (a pseudonym), and is love, or rather obsession, with twelve-year-old Dolores Haze, but the story is told with such fervor and authenticity (not to mention with a nice added dash of dark comedy) that one can't help but feel pity for its main character. Nabokov wasn't interested in creating a simple cut-and-dry morality play, where the old man is a cretinous child molestor, and the young girl the innocent victim; instead, his Humbert is genuinely in love with Dolores, and that doesn't allow for such a simple solution. In the end, we feel for Humbert just as we would someone who has lost a wife, something that speaks volumes for the brilliance of the author.

Of course, with a story so controversial (not to mention best-selling), it would only be a matter of time until Hollywood threw it up on the big screen. Sure enough, a mere four years after its initial publication in the United States, none other than Alfred Hitchcock adapted it from a script by Nabokov himself. However, that version (which is inexplicably considered superior, with my theory being simply for the name of the director attached to it) strays so far from the source material that it, at times, feels like nothing more than a ghost of its former self. Sure, the Hollywood codes of the time must partially be responsible for that, but the end result, while keeping the main plot points mostly intact, lacks the passion and the brilliance of the original novel.

And that takes us to the present, with a review of Adrian Lyne's "Lolita", a film that was blindly chastised prior to its release, to the point that it couldn't find a distributor to release it in the United States. It got a small theatrical release through an independent distributor before the cable channel Showtime finally stepped up to the plate, giving it its big premiere on cable in 1997. This is the film Nabokov would have been proud of, had he not died twenty years prior--Lyne's "Lolita" (along with screenwriter Stephen Schiff) is a much more faithful adaptation in every sense of the word. Yet that doesn't mean it's easy viewing--after all, it is still a tale of pedophilia and incest--but it is handled with such passion, with such understanding of the original text, that it becomes one of the most underrated film adaptations to date. And while it's still a long way off from the effectiveness of the original text, it is a film that does not deserve the fate which it was handed.

Jeremy Irons, in what has to be considered the most daring performance of his distinguished career, plays Humbert Humbert, a college professor who moves to Ramsdale, New England to accept a teaching position at Beardsley College. However, he has a semester off before his work begins, so he rents a room with Charlotte Haze, and her fourteen-year-old daughter, Dolores. Right from the beginning, he is taken aback by Dolores's beauty, and longs to have her all to himself, even going so far as (reluctantly) marrying Charlotte just so he can be near her daughter.

Then, in a perfect example of the irony that became a staple of Nabokov's literary prowess, Charlotte is suddenly killed just as she discovers Humbert's true motivations. Now free from the elder Haze's grasp, Humbert takes Dolores on a trip all throughout the American countryside, confident that nothing stands in their way from a life of complete bliss.

However, it doesn't take long for everything to unravel--who is the strange man that is following them? Who is Dolores talking to behind Humbert's back?--and before you know it, Humbert's ideal set-up has instantly come crashing down all around him. The situation hits its peak when, one day, Dolores disappears from him altogether, and all traces of her whereabouts go cold. This leads to sequences of such intense heartbreak and sadness, made all the more palatable by the absolutely brilliant performance by Jeremy Irons, that it is impossible not to pity poor Humbert, and his blatant, blind stupidity, by the end.

The film has been labeled "erotic", but that seems to miss the point. This is simply a doomed love story, in which the lovers happen to be thirty years apart. Director Adrian Lyne (who made his career out of sex-infused movies like "9 1/2 Weeks" and "Indecent Proposal"), to his credit, has complete control of the material. While there are certainly sex scenes between the two lovers, he matches the level of restraint Nabokov showed in writing the novel, thus allowing the main focus not to lie on whether or not this is child pornography, but on the characters and their complex situation; in the hands of a lesser director, it easily could have been a disaster.

The film also benefits from almost unanimously solid performances: I have already mentioned Jeremy Irons, who is pitch-perfect as the obsessive Humbert Humbert, but one can't ignore then-newcomer Dominique Swain (as Dolores/Lolita), who also handles a difficult role rather well (especially considering this was her first starring role; her only other previous screen credit was as a stunt double in the 1993 thriller "The Good Son"). Her performance is a rather complex concoction, a mix of innocent teenager, and sultry seductress, and she pulls off both of those notes very well. But her main asset is her astonishing beauty; right from the get-go, when we see her sitting underneath a sprinkler, and she unleashes her first smile, we can almost feel what Humbert feels; it is a shame that her film career has since plummeted to little more than tired, direct-to-video efforts. Frank Langella is also good as the mysterious playwright Clare Quilty.

In fact, just about the only downside in the entire film is Melanie Griffith, who plays Charlotte Haze. Griffith is so obviously miscast in her role, stiffly walking through her lines with seemingly little motivation, that it's a wonder no one else seemed to notice it; or perhaps it was allowed simply because her character is killed off so early on. Whatever the reason, it's a rather glaring mistake that manages to hurt the overall picture, especially considering the strength of the performances that surround it.

But despite that single misstep, "this Lolita, pale and polluted and big with another man's child" is that rare translation that not only manages to capture the essence of its source material, but that also captures the raw emotion of Nabokov's original work. The task certainly could not have been easy, but the end result is a rather faithful rendering of a controversial epic; and while nothing in the novel is improved upon, the film certainly does an admirable job of doing what it, and any film adaptation, should set out to do.

Rating: * * * 1/2 (out of 4)