Kavita Chhibber

The passing of Anthony Minghella at the age of 54 has dealt a considerable blow to cinema-goers who have admired his thinking-person’s approach to filmmaking. I first caught “The English Patient” when it hit theaters in 1996, prompted by a friend’s insistence that it was “pure cinematic poetry”. Although the epic movie certainly deserved its share of accolades, its leisurely pace and elliptical structure put many people off. Indeed, the first cut of the film was 4 hours and 10 minutes long. Mike Myers made reference to its length on Saturday Night Live while in character: “English Patient? After three hours I felt like a mental patient!” It was also the subject of one episode of Seinfeld. Elaine gets dumped by her boyfriend and ostracized by her friends because she absolutely detests the film.

When he was made aware of these playful digs at his film, Minghella exhibited trademark class, touched that his film had become a part of pop culture: “I was enormously flattered that they even took the trouble… It was an index to me of just how much ‘The English Patient’ had pervaded the public consciousness… I just took it as a great compliment, really.” (NPR, Fresh Air Interview, 1999)

It was typical for Minghella to approach both criticism and success with self-deprecating humor and humility. He was not only one of Britain’s best-loved filmmakers, but one of the most universally liked figures within its arts community. The term “Renaissance man” was coined for people like Anthony Minghella – he was a playwright, a screenwriter, a producer, a director, a musician, a pianist and a composer. When it was announced that he passed away from complications resulting from surgery on March 18, the world lost a multi-talented man in his prime.

A storyteller at heart, Minghella majored in drama at the University of Hull, England in the 1970s. He was an exemplary student – writing and directing his own plays while still an undergraduate. After graduating, he stayed on as a drama lecturer for several years before quitting in 1981 and spending the next decade as a playwright in London. Minghella penned such works as “A Little Like Drowning” (a tribute to his Italian heritage), “Made in Bangkok” (an indictment of the sex industry), “Love Bites” and “Two Planks and a Passion”. His plays garnered critical acclaim, and in 1984 he was named Most Promising Playwright of the Year by the London Theatre Critics.

"Truly, Madly, Deeply" (Minghella’s 1990 movie starring Alan Rickman and Juliet Stevenson) was his first foray into the film world. It is often acknowledged as the first sign of his burgeoning cinematic talent. The haunting comedy explored themes of sorrow and love, as the ghost of a dead man revisits his grieving wife to comfort her. Anchored by universally lauded acting by the two leads (- hardly typical Hollywood A-listers with movie star looks -), it avoided the belabored “fantasy” elements that dominate such films, incorporating subtle humor without sacrificing dramatic purpose. Its most ardent admirers claim that it is far superior to "Ghost," a film that it understandably draws comparisons to. Roger Ebert called it "a sort of ’Ghost’ for grown-ups."

Trailer for Anthony Minghella’s "The English Patient"

The theme of love and loss was further explored in his next seminal film. Minghella was determined to adapt Michael Ondjaate’s novel “The English Patient” after reading the book in one sitting. The story centers on a Hungarian mapmaker (Ralph Fiennes) and his dying memories of the romance that tragically alters his life. Burned horribly in a fiery plane crash while crossing the Sahara Desert during WWII, the man is mistaken for an Englishman (as the title suggests). He is tended to by a Canadian nurse (Juliette Binoche) with ghosts of her own.

“The English Patient” shifted Minghella’s career to a completely new level after it won Best Picture at the Academy Awards in 1997. Minghella himself took home the statuette for his directorial work on the film. The well-respected playwright was now an award-winning director, bestowed with all the prestige and accolades that came with Academy recognition, including a bankable name. Yet the Oscar-bait movies following “The English Patient” had a tendency to drown out Minghella’s distinctive voice in period-piece grandeur, sweeping themes and overwrought production. “Cold Mountain” was perhaps the best

illustration of this – the highly anticipated movie was beautifully shot and scored, but its ambition was unfortunately not matched by its success. Despite not achieving the same level of perfection as previous work, the film was nevertheless admired. It also garnered a Best Supporting Actress award for Renee Zellweger.

Minghella’s filmography consisted of only 8 feature length films, but those 8 gathered a total of 24 Academy Award nominations. That’s a pretty great batting average, balancing both commercial and critical success.

Perhaps my favorite Minghella film is “The Talented Mr. Ripley” which came out in 1999. Minghella adapted the novel by Patricia Highsmith (one of Hitchcock’s favorite writers), and concocted an intelligent character-driven thriller. In Minghella’s adaptation, the sociopathic Tom Ripley (Matt Damon) capitalizes on his “talents” for deceit, forgery and impersonation to attain another man’s (Jude Law) privileges… and eventually his identity. The movie was more than just a simple case of identity theft, however. Minghella’s film is an exploration of basic human needs that he felt were universal (acceptance, class struggle, jealousy, etc.) taken to extremes. In this case, his anti-hero’s neediness turns irrevocably murderous.

The emotionally complex title character is essentially evil, but Minghella’s script makes him the mysterious centerpiece, hinting at his sexual ambiguity and his pathologic self-loathing (although some would argue that he is actually narcissistic). Regardless, the character of Tom Ripley is never anything less than fascinating. I was curious about this dark protagonist and his motivations from the first scene onwards.

We view everything through his twisted perspective, so that when he confesses (in a rare moment of honesty) that “it’s better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody” we actually believe it, and to some extent, identify with it. We surrender to the masquerade and the subsequent moral compromises that follow. The downward spiral of Tom Ripley’s conscience eventually gives way to violent means to achieve his ends. After viewing the film, I was surprised at how artfully Minghella constructed each scene, successfully coaxing audiences to empathize with the villain, even when we are repulsed by his actions. And oh, what a tangled web he weaves. There are scenes that depend on impeccable timing for Tom Ripley’s schemes to work – and the suspense is built by hoping he doesn’t get caught. Ripley continues to "fake-it-till-he-makes-it", creating a tense and chilling viewing experience that would do Hitchcock proud.

This is one criminally underappreciated movie that always makes repeat appearances in my DVD player. Ninety percent of the story is told in the rich scenic backdrop of 1950s Italy, home of Minghella’s ancestors.

One consistent trait I’ve noticed in the most formidable filmmakers is a passion for music. Minghella was no exception; an accomplished musician himself, he would often oversee the soundtrack and scoring for his films. Minghella directed opera at the Met and wrote musical arrangements for the Appalachian songs he used in “Cold Mountain.” He even coaxed Matt Damon to sing the Chet Baker classic “My Funny Valentine” in “The Talented Mr. Ripley.” Minghella believed that the scene where Damon sings the intimate jazz classic would subtextually convey his more-than-platonic feelings for Jude Law’s character. The song becomes a “safe” way for Ripley to express his feelings… but by doing so in Chet Baker’s voice, the performance is still an imitation, yet another mask cloaking his true persona. It is a wonderful example of song providing an illustration of a character’s motivations.

In a 1999 interview with Robert J. Ellisberg, Minghella confessed “I always listen to music. My passion and vice is music. I will be denied access to heaven because of the number of CDs I own, and I have gluttony for all types and colours of music. I might listen to Hungarian folk songs, Portishead, Ella Fitzgerald and Van Morrison in the same work session. And I always listen to Bach. My work has been a shameless advertisement for Bach, from my plays, through my first film, ‘Truly Madly Deeply’, through ‘The English Patient’ and most recently, in ‘The Talented Mr Ripley’, which has The St. Matthew Passion in the first scene.”

The score was an essential component of Minghella’s lens, if not a character in itself: “The music is in the heart of what I’m doing as a filmmaker, because I began with music, and so I‘ve never lost my own sense of the music as the most rewarding paradigm to study in terms of being a filmmaker. Film is much closer allied to music than it is to language. So I initally think about what music I might use and what the movie might sound like. But I also think of the film metaphorically in musical terms. Theme, exposition of theme, rhymes, visual rhymes. All those things really intrigue me as a way of looking and of thinking about film… Music is a very big actor in the movies.”

When watching Minghella’s films, I couldn’t help but admire the way he let the music breathe through each frame, without spoken interruption. “The English Patient” is filled with scenes that contain sparse dialogue, but evocative music punctuates each character’s emotion – their longing, their heartaches. The vastness of the Tunisian desert is accentuated with ripples in the score that ebb and flow. Minghella’s careful attention to music greatly enhanced his movies’ splendid cinematography, while providing an emotional complement to character development.

The full email interview with Mr. Ellisberg can be read here. In his preamble, Mr. Ellisberg notes that “The effort on my part was simple enough -- I sent questions by e-mail about the craft of screenwriting and hoped that the subject would be eloquent in his or her response. Pretty much all the writers who agreed to be interviewed did so wonderfully. But Anthony Minghella was among the best. As you’ll see… he went far beyond expectations and was gracious, detailed, insightful, gracious, informative and gracious. It’s difficult not to emphasize the ‘gracious’ part. In our private emails and one time we met in person, he was as kind and personable as could be hoped.”

This was a sentiment that seems universally shared about Mr. Minghella. Journalist Matt Anderson recalled meeting the filmmaker at the Denver International Film Festival last year: “Meeting Anthony Minghella proved to be more than worth the extra effort. The man was truly gracious and so calm, a simple conversation with him on the red carpet transcended all the noise and hubbub of the festival’s electric atmosphere. Speaking with him under those

conditions was like being in the eye of a hurricane. Even though activity was madly swirling around us, it didn’t matter. He was relaxed, deeply attentive, and an absolute pleasure to meet.”

Actor Jude Law worked with Minghella on three different films, "but (I) had come to value him more as a friend than as a colleague... He was a brilliantly talented writer and director who wrote dialogue that was a joy to speak and then put it onto the screen in a way that always looked effortless," said Law. "He made work feel like fun. He was a sweet, warm, bright and funny man who was interested in everything from football to opera, films, music, literature, people and most of all his family whom he adored and to whom I send my thoughts and love. I shall miss him hugely."

Actor Ralph Fiennes (“The English Patient”) had this to say: “Anthony possessed a sensitivity and alertness to the actor’s process that very few directors have. He directed most of ‘The English Patient’ with an ankle in plaster, never losing his gentle humor and precision. His films deal with extreme aloneness and the redemptive power of love, even at the moment of death. I will remember him as a man who always wanted to get to the heart of the matter."

Director Shekhar Kapur wrote the following on his blog: "Anthony and his beautiful wife Carolyn were the first people to open up their home to me after I came to the UK to direct Elizabeth. Anthony was compassionate and wise. His smile was one of the kindest I have known. He cared about other people." Kapur also noted that he and Minghella would often converse at length "about the nature of spirituality, life and death." Minghella hand-picked Kapur to complete his last short film, a segment from the movie "New York: I love you." Kapur said Minghella recalled those past conversations on life and mortality - saying that "it was those conversations too that lead him to believe that I should be the one to direct this short film... I will direct the film now - with Anthony in my heart and in presence of his soul."

Director/Producer/Actor Sidney Pollack was also hit hard by Minghella’s passing – the two of them recently collaborated as co-producers on “Michael Clayton” with George Clooney. Pollack said: "He was interested in the magic. Not fake magic, like hiding the ball under the cup, but real magic - the kind that occurs between people. Nowadays, everybody making movies wants to get the clothes off fast and the guns out quick; he was just the opposite. He was interested in the poetry - lavishing the viewer with story, and scope and richness. Look at what you got for your $12 ticket with Anthony."

Amen. I personally found his films - and his direction in particular - to be accessible, artistic and elegant. His passion for cinema is absolutely evident in every frame… but Minghella’s greatest satisfaction was found in writing. When asked why he writes, he replied: “I want to be glib and say I write because I am. It’s almost true. Certainly I never feel more myself than when I’m writing, I never enjoy any day more than a good writing day... the best thing about writing has been the writer’s life, the sense of being expressed, the ownership of the day, the entirely specious sense of freedom we have, however slave we are to some boss or other. I wouldn’t trade it for any other life.”

For those of us that passionately love writing but struggle (for whatever reason) to put words on the page, Anthony Minghella was a beacon of light and an inspiration. He was also living proof that success and class are not always mutually exclusive. What I know of him is through his work, and through his Director’s commentary tracks on DVDs. Watching his films while listening to his voice narrate, it’s almost like attending a screening with an erudite scholar, but also with a warm friend who shares a love of cinema. I’m perpetually awed by his keen and articulate insights, his visionary style, his affection for his characters... but most of all, his sincere appreciation for his entire cast and crew. The criticisms never stripped him of his humor, and the accolades never eroded his humility. Mr. Minghella, you’ll be missed… but I will certainly be visiting you from time to time in my DVD collection... with the commentary tracks on.

Ajit Acharya is an aspiring screenwriter with a lifelong passion for provocative and artistic films.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in these columns are solely those of the writers and do not necessarily represent those of the editor/publisher.