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| Images courtesy of Universal Pictures |
The thing about Philip Kaufman’s NC-17 rated (the very
first, I should add) period piece Henry & June, a film remembered
more now post-Pulp Fiction for featuring the two leads Maria de Medeiros
and Uma Thurman onscreen together, is that it functions much like David
Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch. Its not
so much a straight literary adaptation of the text of the same name by erotic
novelist Anaïs Nin (Maria de Medeiros) consisting of uncut diaries involving
her sexual awakening stemming from an extramarital affair with writer Henry
Miller (Fred Ward) and his wife June (Uma Thurman) as it is a distillation of
Nin herself. Set in 1931 Paris, France, we
find Nin bored with her dependable but unadventurous marriage to Ian Hugo
(Richard E. Grant) until she crosses paths with Henry & June and begins
her blooming from a caterpillar into a butterfly, so to speak. Though she ultimately assists in the
publication of Henry Miller’s novel Tropic of Cancer, the affair
presents devastating consequences for the couple when Nin starts getting
careless about covering her tracks in separately seducing both of them.
The first for Kaufman in a loose triptych of literary erotic period dramas beginning with The Unbearable Lightness of Being in 1988 and wrapping up in 2000 with the Marquis de Sade drama Quills, Henry & June represented a stark shift in direction for the director behind such visual effects heavy science-fiction/fact related fare as his remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers and his tectonic-sized saga of the American space program The Right Stuff. While the film itself fell through the cracks somewhat with the intended replacement of the balked-at X rating still drawing ire from theaters refusing to carry it, as it stands it is a star-studded triangular romantic affair drenched in sumptuous period detail featuring a star-studded cast including Richard E. Grant, Fred Ward, Kevin Spacey and even Gary Oldman in a sneaky cameo. Featuring Oscar nominated cinematography from A River Runs Through It Academy Award winner Philippe Rousselot and a moody if not occasionally impassioned period score by The Unbearable Lightness of Being composer Mark Adler, sumptuous set pieces with acute attention to detail by Brotherhood of the Wolf production designer Guy-Claude François, from an entirely technical end the 1.66:1 shot and framed film is ravishing.
What’s really striking about the casting of Maria de Medeiros (herself a film director) in the role of Anaïs Nin is how much her facial structure and figure closely resembles that of the real person. Much like the casting of Warren Oates in John Milius’ Dillinger film, the actress looks so much like Anaïs Nin its kind of uncanny. Also let it be said Medeiros fearlessly dives head over heels into the film’s cacophony of sex scenes and romantic longings, as does Fred Ward in his scenes shared with her albeit sporting a bald cap that is more than a little jarring the first time he takes his hat off. Uma Thurman as June comes across as burning with lust while also sporting many of the same relationship woes as Anaïs who can’t help but notice their infighting over money and careers. Richard E. Grant, a multitalented character actor appearing in everything from Withnail and I to Saltburn, is great as the ineffectual nebbish husband who remains loyal while blissfully unaware of the cuckolding going on with his wife’s extramarital affairs with their newfound friends. Its only a matter of time before the titular Henry & June learn just how entrenched into their personal lives Anaïs Nin really is.
Against the very first NC-17 rating issued to a film by the MPAA, Henry & June nevertheless was a hit with critics and managed to garner somewhere around $11 million in ticket sales with some theaters still refusing to carry it. Ultimately given the rating over a Japanese postcard of Hokusai’s The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife depicting bestiality, looking back on it now Henry & June is rather tame and somehow doesn’t feel like it traverses or transgresses nearly as far as Quills does despite having a lesser R rating. While not nearly as sexy or racy as the NC-17 tag would lead you to believe and while clearly nowhere near the heights reached by The Right Stuff (still his best film), it marked a noble step in the right direction for Philip Kaufman in trying to bring to contemporary adult filmgoing viewers a thoughtful provocation that is at once an adaptation of Anaïs Nin’s book as well as an investigation into what drove or motivated the author’s affairs herself. Not a masterpiece but a good effort with a career-defining performance from Maria de Medeiros.
--Andrew Kotwicki