Cruelty with beauty

Without question, Catherine Zeta-Jones is gorgeous, with loveliness comparable to the Venuses of Titian, mythical beings who are aware of our voyeuristic impulses and who not only condone but encourage it. Zeta-Jones is very much like them, knowing fully well that she will be the focus of attention – both male and female – whenever she enters a room, every utterance from her, no matter how daft, will be deemed charming. On film, the phenomenon is no less apparent, every frame capturing her every feature to dazzling effect: the moon-struck jewels that are her eyes, the feline grace of her smile and the rich growth of her sensuously black mane.

Is it any wonder that my first impulse when I see her pretty head is to crack it open like a chestnut?

The thought occurred to me while watching the Coen Brothers’ latest film, Intolerable Cruelty in which Zeta-Jones stars alongside George Clooney. In it, she plays a conniving beauty (aren’t they all?) who looks for a rich and "silly" man to marry, divorce and drive to penury. Too bad her husband hires hotshot lawyer Miles Massey (Clooney) whose expertise is without question (past achievements include the Massey prenuptial agreement so ironclad it serves as a chastity belt to many a gold-digger). Too bad though he commits the ultimate faux pas: He falls in love with her.

Admittedly the synopsis is usual fodder for romantic-comedies but the defense is quick to point out that this is a film from American cinema’s quirkiest Jewish siblings. If you haven’t noticed, things do tend to get a little weird in Ethan and Joel’s films. (The uninitiated is advised to stop perusal of this article at once and rent the 1995 masterpiece Fargo or their debut Blood Simple.) But anyone can get weird, one might counter; however, the true auteur reigns in it all in and makes it a thing of beauty no matter how cruel the method. Someone like David Lynch will subject you to the exquisite torture of watching a feature-length film like Eraserhead to really f**k up your sex drive and artsy-fartsy pretensions of cinema; while Stanley Kubrick will just taunt you with stylized rape and violence just to show how sick you are for getting off on it. The Coens’ though are less cerebral but no less smart in their attack. For the two, it’s the pleasure of eliciting giggles despite the grotesquerie unfolding before you; it’s about getting the laugh out before the mind has time to suppress it. The difference however from Adam Sandler or Jim Carrey is, first, the situation itself isn’t or shouldn’t be funny; second, once the brain catches up its synapses begin to buzz much like the organ itself were capable of laughing (or vomiting) – the latter not surprisingly a Coen staple. The point is, there are no accidents devoid of purpose in these films from the bizarre situations to odd character traits to – and yes – the choice of its cast.

The character of Marilyn Rexroth (Zeta-Jones) is as ruthless as she is careful about her feminine enchantments. She marries just for money and makes no secret about it (to, of course, the sympathetic ear with the matching open wallet). It’s a role that Zeta-Jones has played early on in her career from Python Eric Idle’s vehicle Splitting Heirs to her present-day, real-life marriage to Michael Douglas (as some naughty wags have quipped). Surely it wasn’t in admiration for Zeta-Jones questionable acting ability or the shine of her bought Oscar that motivated the Coens’ to cast her. Who else would have been perfect to play this fixture of a Nathanael West-styled Hollywood inferno? It also helps that the Welsh actress has been received kindly into the bosom arms of America (or at least its movie-going audience) and thus commands a considerable box-office draw. It doesn’t take geniuses like the Coens to figure out the best candidate capable of endearing such an unsavory character to an American audience – what with Meg Ryan already hanging up her pom-poms in that arena.

Is that the reason why I’m contemplating Zeta-Jones disfigurement and possible demise? No, not really and, to tell you the truth, I’m not quite sure of it myself. It could be as Nick Cave expressed in his duet with Kylie Minogue "Where The Wild Roses Grow" that "all beauty must die" but it rings a tad too melodramatic (and we are talking about a romantic-comedy here). Maybe it could be rooted in my belief that beauty – once too self-conscious of its self – loses its luster. A Coen misfire? Or their cruelest black joke? It’s hard to say but let’s just put it down to them – like so many a mortal before – being unable to resist.

* * * Wanna read? It’s depressing how odd that sounds when put in the Philippine context. For those who feel the same, we urge you to go to Booktopia, Unit 209 Intrepid Plaza, E. Rodriguez, Libis, Quezon City and indulge in the most sinful of passions – reading. (Reading a well-written sex scene is much more arousing than most hard-core porn.) Their numbers are 634-6544 and 634-7528.

Bored of usual FM radio? Tune in to the Gweilos Hours every Friday, 9 to 10 p.m. and catch bands like Primal Scream, Kevin Shields, The Pixies, True Love Always and Ciudad. Contests are held weekly. Tonight’s guest is Mike Elgar from Rivermaya. Hear all his guilty pleasures from pop fluff to balls-out glam metal!

Also, for those of you who want to get gigs at Gweilos, check out the show to find out!

* * * Send comments and reactions to: erwin_romulo@hotmail.com.