A Walk in the Clouds" is a glorious romantic fantasy, aflame withpassion and bittersweet longing. One needs perhaps to have a little ofthese qualities in one's soul to respond fully to the film, which to ajaundiced eye might look like overworked melodrama, but that to me sangwith innocence and trust.
The movie, set in the vineyards ofNorthern California in the months right after World War II, tells thestory of a young man and woman who meet at a time of crisis in both oftheir lives, who agree to pretend to be married, and who end updesperately in love just when the pretense is about to fail. The plotlovingly constructs one barrier after another to their happiness, sothat we can rejoice as each one falls, only to be even more alarmed atthe next. And it sets their story in a place of breathtaking beauty.The director is Alfonso Arau, the Mexican filmmaker who had an unexpected success with "Like Water for Chocolate."Once again, he throws caution to the wind and goes for unabashedsentiment, for glorious excess, for love so idealistic it seems neverto have heard of the 20th century. At a time when movies seem obligatedto be cynical, when it is easier to snicker than to sigh, what a reliefthis film is! The movie opens with Paul (Keanu Reeves)returning home from the war, to a wife he married one day before heshipped out. He doesn't know her, and she hardly understands him. Thereshould never have been a marriage. Now nothing is left. Paul leaves SanFrancisco on a bus; another passenger is Victoria Aragon (AitanaSanchez-Gijon). They have a classic Meet Cute: He defends her from someaggressive guys, is thrown off the bus, walks on dejectedly, and findsher standing in the middle of the road with her suitcases. This is herhome.
But first a word about the road. It is a picturesquecountry lane, with leaves arching overhead, and looks not even remotelylike the kind of highway Greyhound or Trailways might travel. For Arau,that is just fine; he is concerned here with the landscape of romance,not realism. Look at a scene soon after, where Victoria shows Paul thevalley where her family has its vineyard; there has never been a valleythis beautiful, this rolling, misty, sun-drenched and blessed; Arauuses special effects at several points in the film to push hislandscapes beyond the real, into the ideal.
Victoria is sad, andbegins to cry. She is pregnant and forlorn, abandoned by a worthlessman. She is afraid to go home to her father and confess her sin. Paulsees a way he might help: He could pretend to be her husband, theycould make up a story, and he could leave in the morning. The gratefulVictoria snatches at this straw, and they walk down to the family farm.
The Aragon family is big and colorful and secure, Mexican-Americans who have lived on this land for generations.
Alberto (Giancarlo Giannini),the father, plays his role to the hilt: He is stern and unyielding,perhaps to conceal the softness of his heart. His wife, Marie JoseAragon (Angelica Aragon), is good and generous, and perhaps suspectssomething about the "marriage" but keeps her thoughts to herself. Andthen there is the patriarch, Don Pedro Aragon (Anthony Quinn), who sees and understands everything, and may even know Paul and Victoria are in love before they realize it themselves.
Themovie now alternates between melodramatic crisis and picturesqueset-pieces. On the one hand, there is the growing suspicion of Alberto,who wonders why, if this boy is married to this girl, he sleeps on thefloor. On the other, there is the generosity of Don Pedro, who takesPaul on an early-morning walk to show him the root from which theentire vineyard has grown.
Then there is the problem that Paulhas not told Victoria that he is married - in name, at least - and thusnot free to act on his feelings. For he is certainly falling in love,not only with Victoria but with her family and its land. He tells herhe was raised as an orphan: "When I was a kid, I made a wish on everystar in the sky to have what you have here." She asks, "And haveeveryone telling you what to do?" He says, "Better than no one." Andthis theme leads up to a moment when Anthony Quinnsays a line that perhaps only he could utter with complete solemnityand grace: "You are an orphan no longer." Arau gives us wonderfulscenes that would, in a musical, be production numbers. There is thegrape-stomping dance, and the scene of ethereal beauty when frostthreatens the vines, and all the family and its workers go into thefield, using big butterfly wings to fan the warmth from oil heatersdown around the grapes. And a scene of near-tragedy, which I will notdescribe.
Keanu Reevesbrings to the role an artless simplicity. He realizes that thismaterial cannot be touched with the slightest hint of self-awareness aul must be completely in and of this story.
Reeves'performance is almost transparent, and that is the highest compliment Ican pay it. Of course the casting of the young woman is crucial, and Aitana Sanchez-Gijonis a luminous discovery. The child of an Italian mother and Spanishfather, she has been acting in Spain since she was 9, and here, inexcellent English, she creates a hero both vulnerable and brave.
Forme, the most touching scene in the movie is the one where Paul standsbeneath Victoria's window, singing a Mexican love song that he has justlearned. I know this scene has no business in a movie made in 1995. Iknow it belongs in an old Italian opera. But so what? "A Walk in the Clouds"is the kind of film you have to give yourself to, open yourself to.Logic and cynicism will get you nowhere with this one. Oh, it will showyou're tough, and can't be fooled, and no one can slip these ancientromantic notions past you.
But if you can resist the scene wherehe sings beneath her window, then for you I offer this wish, that noone ever sing beneath your window. Even if sometimes you find yourselflistening. |
