Immortalized by bards, poets and, most famously, composer Richard Wagner — not to mention an uninspired 1979 cinematic telling — the tragic romance of forbidden passion between an English knight and his Irish paramour gets occasionally stirring but mostly somber screen treatment in Tristan & Isolde.
The story itself — of obscure Celtic origins — is one of the foundational myths of chivalric literature, echoed in later works such as Romeo and Juliet and the triangular tragedy of King Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot.
Stripped of its fantasy and Christian elements and set in a chaotic — and religiously ambiguous — England of the Dark Ages (shortly after the fall of Rome), the film stars James Franco and a luminous Sophia Myles as the star-crossed lovers.
With the Romans having closed shop in Britain, the country is divided into a patchwork of tribes ruled by rival chieftains. In an ironic historical twist, Ireland gets to play the role of oppressor.
The film opens with Tristan's father trying to unite the factious clans under the powerful and virtuous Lord Marke (Rufus Sewell) to resist the Irish incursions. The council is attacked by Irish marauders who massacre everyone, including Tristan's parents. Young Tristan (Thomas Sangster) is saved from death by Marke, who raises him as his son.
Maturing into a fierce warrior, Tristan is mortally wounded — or so it seems — while rescuing countrymen taken captive during an Irish slave raid. In a pagan funeral rite, his lifeless body is set afloat Viking-style.
Steered by fate, the skiff washes ashore in Ireland, conveniently close to where the beautiful Isolde is bemoaning her betrothal to a Gaelic goon, as arranged by her duplicitous father, King Donnchadh (David O'Hara).
Skilled in healing arts, Isolde secretly nurses Tristan back to health; she and her handmaid provide warmth by sandwiching the unconscious Tristan between their unclothed bodies (no nudity is shown).
Without the need of the myth's magic elixir, the two are immediately smitten, but fearing for his life, Isolde — who has withheld her royal identity — sends Tristan back to England.
After learning that Isolde's fiance has been slain, Donnchadh, scheming to set the English against each other and dash Marke's hope of an alliance, offers his daughter as a prize in a tournament of arms.
Tristan enters as Marke's champion, not realizing that the trophy is his beloved Isolde. Needless to say he wins, and, to the lovers' heartache, is honor-bound to deliver Isolde in marriage to Marke, setting up an adulterous web of deceits and betrayals, as they must choose between desire and duty. (The film's jettisoning of the original tale's enchanted love potion makes them more morally culpable for their illicit actions.)
Told with a fair degree of visual grace, the film has some sweeping shots of rugged Irish vistas and sunless northern skies. The hand of producer Ridley Scott is evident in the gritty, almost drab, realism and attention to period detail, but don't expect any epic Gladiator battle scenes.
And while there is some savage swordplay, director Kevin Reynolds reins in the action in favor of the romance. Certain plot elements have been changed, but Reynolds keeps the legend's tragic tone.
Apart from a few relatively discreet lovemaking scenes, the movie has the feel of an old-fashioned adventure, though its grand romance is undercut considerably by Franco's brooding and humorless performance.
Still, with its enduring themes of love and loss, honor, duty and sacrifice, Tristan & Isolde is highly watchable, if not all that memorable. Wagner anyone?
The film contains intense battle violence, including severed limbs, a hanging, several sexual situations with suggested nudity, and themes of adultery. The USCCB Office for Film & Broadcasting classification is A-III — adults only.
(This review appears courtesy of href=”http://www.usccb.org/movies”
target=_blank>US Conference of Catholic Bishops' Office for Film and Broadcasting.)
