Imagine if you can, a sexy Masterpiece Theater adaptation of
Dominic Sena’s Kalifornia and you’ll come close to approximating the
feel that The Weight of Water,Kathryn Bigelow’s engaging period
thriller, creates in its best moments. As the movie, which follows a fictional
photojournalist as she attempts to piece together the clues to a century-old
double homicide that really happened, flashes back and forth, it initially feels
as if the plot might never build to anything resembling a head, but then, in the
final forty-five minutes, Bigelow pulls out her action movie chops, and edits
the movie into a thoroughly compelling, fast-paced frenzy of physical and
emotional turbulence. Bigelow is nothing if she’s not an accomplished
visualist, and this time out she seems to cram all of her money shots into her
closing montage, but the effect is dazzling. Suddenly, the film, which felt
rather slack to that point, festers with potent sexual jealousy. Much of the
credit for the raised excitement in the film’s second half must also go to
Sarah Polley, whose slow-boil of a performance as a repressed 19th-century
housewife finally begins percolating midway through. Her glum, calculating,
penetrating stare is the sort of thing that gives a viewer nightmares, and even
if we’ve figured out where the film was going an hour earlier, it doesn’t
fail to shock us when it finally gets there, thanks to her.
The second half of the film’s substantive uptick is
almost enough to make you forget that the first hour doesn’t have much
that’s worth mentioning, until the end places it into context. As the
photojournalist (Catherine McCormack) tools around on a boat with her husband
(Sean Penn), her brother-in-law (Josh Lucas), and his girlfriend (Elizabeth
Hurley), they take turns flirting with and shooting mean-spirited, sidelong
glances at each other. Though the sexual tension is thick all around in both
stories, since Bigelow’s been a hardcore feminist in her films for some time
now, it doesn’t take a genius to guess where the chips are going to fall. The
performances are subtle enough though, that it remains interesting while we wait
for the director to amp up the action. Most of the early suspense in the
present-day sequences comes from it being paralleled against the past story,
which is quite obviously building to a revelation that we know will eventually
be matched in the present day sequences. Movies with a stronger second half are
more rare than those that don’t live up to their early promises, but they also
tend to be more fondly remembered. The Weight of Water is no exception to
this rule. It overcomes its initial wobbliness and turns into an engaging and
literate psychodrama.