Reviews of THE GUITAR
"THE GUITAR is an exquisite life affirming and extraordinary film, a rich cinematic work that is sexy, funny, moving and full of optimism. A wonderful film by a consummate filmmaker and featuring a stunning performance by the exquisite Saffron Burrows." —Paul Fischer/Dark Horizons :: "Amy Redford directs with great assurance, turning what could have been a claustrophobic setting into a kind of wonderland in which magic can and does occur. Saffron Burrows goes from gray-faced to glowing as a woman for whom imminent death provides a new lease on life. She goes from sad-sack victim to urban warrior, someone who discovers that indulging her inner consumer can be a life-affirming experience. Burrows secretive smile is one of the screens most seductive weapons." —Marshall Fine/Hollywoodandfine.com :: "'THE GUITAR,' inspired by a true story, is an amazing, deeply absorbing drama which lets its pent-up emotions emerge in a unique way. Saffron Burrows gives a tender yet edgy performance and Amy Redford's direction is intelligent, evoking a remarkable performance." —Jeffrey Lyons, NBC/Reel Talk :: "Amy Redford's directorial debut is powerfully wonderful. Her gentle brilliance in direction, tells the story of a woman whose life has completely come undone, and Saffron Burrows performance picks it up from the pages of that script, and makes it undeniably and unforgettably real. I loved it." —Keith Price of Sirius Radio :: "Illuminating! A Gorgeous, stunning film. " —Scott Hoffman of MoviePictureFilm.com ::
Amy Redford’s THE GUITAR, from a screenplay by Amos Poe, reportedly inspired by a true story, begins on just about the lowest note imaginable, and then eventually soars to the highest note imaginable on the wings of a magical guitar and its ecstatic musical frenzies. And what more do you want in the way of entertainment during these ever ominous times? Saffron Burrows, as the initially ill-fated Melody “Me” Wilder, is practically the whole show in this strange and often rapturous vehicle of charismatic redemption. Aside from her magical guitar, Melody is endowed with an amazing resilience from adversity that enables her to cope with many of the absurdities of her existence. When we first see her, she has been thrust into the maelstrom of extraordinarily congested urban crowds through which she trudges as if she were in perfect harmony with her moody monologues. Her first stop is a doctor’s office, where she learns from a woman physician that she has an inoperable tumor lodged in the vicinity of her vocal chords that will make it impossible for her to talk in the short time, perhaps a month, in which she has to live. The physician advises her to go home and settle her affairs before the end comes. Next, she goes to her office, and is informed that she is being laid off immediately with a month’s severance pay from a job about which, we gather, she was not all that enchanted. To top things off in decidedly Jobian fashion, her boyfriend chooses this time to tell her that he needs time alone to find his “inner child.” This string of setbacks seems almost comical, but Melody is not laughing, and neither are we. But what more can possibly happen next? Here the film takes an unexpected turn as Melody temporarily finagles an empty luxury apartment with her life’s savings in a new luxury high-rise building overlooking the river, Hudson or East, I don’t know. She then sets out to max all her credit cards by ordering the most voluptuous furnishings, clothes and fabrics she can find. She also orders the most expensive meals from expensive restaurants that deliver. We deduce from a near slip she makes while ordering that up to now she has been a dedicated vegetarian, but now decides to throw diets and caution to the wind with steaks and pizzas galore. All the heavy furniture is delivered by the same African-American deliveryman with a conspicuous wedding band on his finger—which does not deter him from making polite advances to this clearly eccentric tenant. The resulting sex is more sensuous than sensual, as simply an extension of Melody’s too long suppressed hedonistic impulses. Then the very young restaurant deliverygirl who brings Melody her meals expresses her desire to devour Melody as well, and Melody happily complies. And when the deliveryman bursts in on them, he smilingly accepts their invitation to join in a ménage à trois. For her part, Melody realizes from her bitter past experiences that this idyllic state of bliss cannot last indefinitely, and so when the inevitable happens, and her lovers apologetically depart for good, Melody accepts their defections with philosophical resignation. Meanwhile, Melody has found solace in satisfying a childhood dream of owning and playing a guitar. Brief flashbacks show a child actress playing Melody as she first steals a guitar from a music shop, and is then in tears when she is forced to return the guitar to the shop in the company of her irate mother. The guitar is the one possession she saves when all her credit cards are maxed out, and her apartment is padlocked. Then the seemingly miraculous happens. She returns to the clinic and is told that her tumor has disappeared since it could no longer recognize the body that was suddenly so lavishly fed. Melody is at first actually angry that she has been medically misled into bankruptcy. What happens next is too delicious a surprise to be spoiled by my telling you in advance. You have to see it for yourself. It is that out-of-the-depths triumphant. —Andrew Sarris, The New York Observer :: THE GUITAR is a modern New York fable about a woman simultaneously dumped by her boyfriend, fired from her job and diagnosed with inoperable cancer. At this point, what good are Reiki massages, guidance counselors and Hallmark cards? So mousey Melody (Saffron Burrows) short-term leases a loft penthouse, orders a Vera Wang bed, orders from every restaurant in Greenwich Village and maxes out her credit cards. Indulging in every childhood fantasy in a materialistic orgy sponsored by Visa, she becomes the envy of everyone trapped in a gray and meaningless world who would happily go on a rampage of luxury objects promising redemption if they could just afford it. Her prize possession: a red guitar and speakers powerful enough to be heard across the river in Hoboken. While she’s at it, Melody also opens a new window to sexual desires long since suppressed, with a black deliveryman and a girl who drops off takeout pizzas. Eventually, they return to their ordinary workaday lives, but for Melody, there’s no next plateau. She shoots the moon. The kicker comes when, after three months, her lease expires and she’s still not dead. She’s outlived her debts, so she goes back to her doctor and here comes the shock: Statistically, there’s no reason, but she’s miraculously cured. Suddenly she’s got a future and no way to pay for it. Devaluation on the things she accumulated on her three-month binge ring her only a fraction of their value, but there’s one thing she will not sell. She’s bankrupt, homeless, friendless and lost, but at least she can play the guitar. Written by Amos Poe and directed with moxie by Amy Redford, it’s the ultimate movie about optimism. She’s Robert Redford’s daughter, so she knows how to tell a good story. Like her father, she also has a healthy regard for narrative, and for the dying art of independent films that say something. What this one says is that no matter how bad it gets, even if you’re living under a tree in Central Park, as long as you can play the guitar you can always join a rock band. The economic crisis threatens to force the demise of indie prods as we know them now. This is a good thing and a bad thing, but if you care either way, the time to dance around their bonfire is now, and THE GUITAR is a good place to start. —Rex Reed, The New York Observer :: Back to FILMS LIST
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