Ernest Hemingway’s The Garden of Eden, published posthumously in 1986, is not the best representation of Hemingway’s genius as an American author. Much has been debated (and deleted) concerning the quality of his ninth book, yet that didn’t stop Hollywood from plowing straight into another version of this tale concerning a Mediterranean ménage à trios and androgynous obsession. Filmed in 2008 (but only now finding itself in limited release), Hemingway’s Garden of Eden – while filled with bits and nuggets of Euro soft-core - is more of a tease than it is a tassel.
David Bourne [Jack Huston (yes, from THAT Hollywood family)] and his wife Catherine (Mena Suvari) are vacationing in the French Rivera. It is there that the young couple meets the temptress that is Marita (Caterina Murino), a Sardinian beauty with a whole lot of money, who teases and tests their wedding vows with her über sexiness and charisma. Catherine might be somewhat obsessed with androgyny, convincing her husband to look like her, and her own status, but – it seems – she is no match for her husband’s carnal instincts where Marita is concerned. They both can have her, but only one can love her and the cost of daring such a thing is indeed a steep price.
Inserting the story sequences concerning a hunting trip in Africa David had with his father into the picturesque setting of the French Rivera and its ensuing love affair might have sounded like a good idea, but fractured into the narrative it merely spoils the lush atmosphere with misdirection. It’s purposeless and shallow, revealing nothing about David’s talents as a writer. It’s intended to be the story he is working on while vacationing in the French Rivera, but – disappearing into a tale about his youth – he can’t muster any excitement out of it and merely trips the audience up with a heavy-handed anecdote.
Yes, this is true to Hemingway’s novel, but – even in the novel – there seems to be some confusion about its meaning. Director John Irvin doesn’t forcefully settle on a reason for much in this narrative and lets things play out in a sort of soap operatic manner that hinders the true story hidden within the subtext of the original. This is why Hemingway’s books make horrible movies. Their subtleties are usually ruined by false staging.
The performances aren’t bad, but they aren’t dynamic either. They are adequate. Murino simply has to smolder in front of the camera and she does, being a nice pictorial contrast to the bleach blondeness of Suvari and Hudson. Hudson is serviceable as the Hemingway hero, but doesn’t become the striking object he needs to be in order to ignite any real sparks. And Suvari, jealous of her husband’s relationship with his typewriter, goes from enticing flapper to a raving bitch by the end of the film. If it seems overdramatic, know that witnessing it is worth and equally nonsensical. There is nothing beyond the frames of this picture; no real value and no authentic note in its muse. It’s a buttery and vapid meal, with no real sizzle.
The Garden of Eden, in book form, is not great Hemingway. It’s not even good Hemingway. Released twenty-five years after his death, the original text was sliced and diced in an effort to tell the bare bones of the story he was working on. Yes, the very minimum. As a result of the editor’s heavy hand, we will never know for sure what Hemingway envisioned in his head for David and Catherine Bourne. This movie - which probably should have stayed shelved - will make sure that audiences don’t even care to know the real story.
{pgomakase}
