Review of Sophie's Choice (1982) by Dawn M — 12 Feb 2011

3.5 Stars out of 4.

There's nothing quite much like Sophie's Choice. It bounces around from character focus - to American writer Stingo (Peter MacNicol) to Sophie Zawistowski (Meryl Streep) and back to Stingo again. Sophie's Jewish lover Nathan Landau (Kevin Kline) simmers below the surface tension.

This jumbling of point of view is not carelessness, but very purposeful. It puts the story in the hands of an unsullied and eloquent reliable narration - that is Stingo - and the graceful, but abrasive progression into Sophie's eyes renders a completely unreliable narrator. This is the test of fiction.

Nathan knows he is a good writer and that is his most valued personal treasure. His discovery of Sophie and Nathan seems to have spawned from the depths of art. The couple is dramatic, engaging, and enigmatic. They are openly affectionate, to the extent you'd believe they are flaunting. No. This is an indication of their insecurity.

We are not sure what troubles Nathan. He is ridiculously volatile and fickle. I think Sophie loves him for those reasons. Since Nathan is so nebulous, Sophie's being with him assuages her haunted past. If you know nothing about the movie, you can still tell, due to Streep's bravura performance, that these are furtive people. They enact a life that reeks of facade. As for Stingo, he is a genuine person. He studies Sophie and Nathan as if they are a terrific idea for a novel.

Stingo is not the kind of person to embellish the thoughts of these characters. He is compassionate and sympathetic. He is easy to like. So it is not Stingo who propels us through the story. In fact the first 45 minutes of Sophie's Choice follows a monotony simply because it is dealing with characters living in those patterns. That is their protection from surprises.

It is not until an hour in that the film switches gears. We learn through various erratic arguments between Sophie and Nathan (which come off as a stage act, since that is the essence of their rapport) that Sophie is from Krakow who had an antisemitic father, but she was forced into Auschwitz because of her Polish descent. These are the breadcrumbs that lead to a superior, thoroughly heartbreaking second half.

Sophie tells an anecdote of her experiences in the concentration camps - and to the camera. Well not "to the camera" but from the point of view of Stingo. He is us. The lights are diluted in the background and Sophie's face ignites - her guilt, sorrow, and passion. She recounts of how her daughter was sent to extermination and her son to Child Labor Camps, which became infested with an endemic. Granted, Sophie's gaze into the lens of Stingo subtly suggests that she is acting. That's all I will say.

Streep conveys enough of Sophie's obscured character that it is her who makes the movie - rather brilliant. Stingo, for me, was too passive and subordinate to be a "main character" and I think that is why the focus deflects to Sophie. Kline is a plaything, borderline schizophrenic, and meant for Sophie because she needs that unabashed entertainment in her life.

The film is directed by Alan J. Pakula, who did The Pelican Brief and All The President's Men. He directs Sophie's Choice with a blandness at first but that is all set up. Once the film engages in the discourse and subjectivity of its characters, the remainder of the piece is electrifying.

Of course, this is based on the 1979 novel of the same name by William Styron. Pakula perfects the emotional core by never being manipulative and always being precise to the situation. Sophie's "choice" I will not divulge to you. You would hate me. But it marks the movie - brands it with woe.

As we reach the conclusion, Sophie makes another choice that is, to us, is the wrong one. For her, it is the necessary one. In Sophie's life, after her victimization during World War Two, "right" and "true" to her are evanescent. The sharp but important contrast with Stingo is that a writer's life relies precisely on those two.