Miss Julie – Film Review by Emily Elphinstone

Director: Liv Ullmann
Writers: August Strindberg (play), Liv Ullmann (screenplay)
Stars: Colin Farrell, Jessica Chastain, Samantha Morton

Based on the play by August Strindberg, Liv Ullman’s adaptation of Miss Julie transplants the action from Sweden, to a country estate in 1880s Ireland. Taking place over one Midsummer’s Night, the absent Baron’s daughter Julie (Jessica Chastain) engages in a power play with her father’s valet John (Colin Farrell). In a tempestuous battle for power and sexual dominance, they fight against their own urges as much as each others.

From the opening minutes, as we watch a young Julie roam around a seemingly deserted estate, the remains of a dinner party the only evidence of other human life; there is no doubt that Miss Julie is a visually sumptuous film. However, this is not always used to full effect. In fact, Ullman is so faithful to the original play, that most of the action remains firmly in the kitchen, and it is often difficult to imagine that the other occupants of the estate (who we occasionally hear in the distance) exist at all.

Miss Julie revolves solely around three characters: Julie, John, and faithful cook Kathleen (Samantha Morton) who, seeing the unavoidable drama approaching, takes herself away to her room. This self control makes Morton’s character far more interesting to watch than the other two, as all her emotions are contained within a pursed lip, and a hushed voice.

Meanwhile, though Chastain and Farrell are believable in their respective characters; the melodrama builds to such overwhelming heights, that despite some interesting moments, any possibility of real emotional resonance is largely drowned out, and it’s tempting to switch off. Neither the spoiled Julie, nor the proud John are particularly likeable characters, so it is hard to find sympathy for either of them. This lack of subtlety means that a tragic conclusion seems inevitable from the outset, and by continuing the action just past where Strindberg leaves it, painting Miss Julie as a Pre-Raphaelite heroine, Ullmann leaves little to the imagination.

Overall, though Miss Julie is often visually stunning and solidly performed, it is difficult to understand why the film was made, or what it was trying to say. The unbounded battle of power and emotions may work on stage, but here one just wishes the tortured characters would leave each other alone, and find something more interesting to do.