Steineded
How sad is this?
Freeman
This film is so real. It treats its characters with so much care and sensitivity.
Philippa
All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.
teatag
I read the novel many years ago, as had my wife, but hadn't seen the movie. The acting was good, but for a few episodes of Hollywood-style over-emoting. The story line seems to be faithful to the novel, inasmuch as we can remember it. The settings are lavish, but consistent with the story line. The only real fault, and it's a major one, is the intrusive and overly loud and pseudo-dramatic musical score. Be prepared to turn down the volume from time to time. Given a choice between no background music and Franz Waxman's score, I would gladly have opted for no music.
brentchastain
The ending. That's what is commented on most and with good reason. Because the resolution is purposely ambiguous, it disappoints or frustrates many.I think the ending, which does not stamp the seal of innocence or guilt upon Rachel, is appropriate to the story. The plot carefully builds two sides to Rachel's character. She is either the sweetest warmest person ever, or a fortune seeker where marriage and murderer are not out of the question. The story builds a strong case for both perspectives. This is the larger point of the story - it's about perceptions, communication and judgments humans make, that we sometimes have to make without the ability to determine the truth and the inherent danger in doing so. This is how life sometimes is - nowadays we call them gray areas. My Cousin Rachel it's not necessarily a mystery story that needs to be resolved, but more truly a comment on the folly of human interactions, especially where money and greed are involved.Yet even if you demand a solid resolution, the ending should not be seen as a let-down. If you believe the story shows her guilt more prominently, then in the end you can argue that fate stepped in, (seconds too late) and justice was done - she paid with her life for murder, as the opening death scene foretold. On the other hand If you believe her innocent, then her murder can be explained in her extremely poor manner of showing and communicating her intentions, leaving highly bad impressions to those it mattered most.I think my reading of the outcome is backed up by the fact then when the author of the novel was asked about the innocence of Rachael, she herself did not know. Solving the mystery was not the author's intention. Brent Chastain top3films.com
misctidsandbits
This movie reminds me of "Rebecca" as well. Both are dark sided, with women that are formidable to the men in question. Interesting that in both cases, these are thoroughly English men. While both women are compelling personalities and complicated to the men involved, I think they are very different, both in type and motivation.I think Rebecca simply had a very skewed moral compass with underlying perversity. I think she knew when she did wrong and reveled in it – rather depraved actually.However, Rachel is another story. I don't think she is actually sinister, but of a culture with ethics quite foreign -and skewed- to the rather straight laced English mindset. Remember, she is a certain European with very different ways of looking at things. What seems not quite cricket to Philip and the older Ambrose, needs no justification in Rachel's mind.And I think she had the type of "tribal" loyalty that bound her to her own kinsmen in preference to these newly acquired English connections (husband, in Ambrose's case). That's why she could be so genuinely outraged by Philip's confrontations and so strong in her own representations of matters. She truly saw no reason not to take the mile when she was offered an inch. Any implication of an implied betrothal or personal commitment in the gift of very valuable family jewelry was dismissible with her. This ambivalence also included being somewhat free with her kisses. As for it seeming implausible that Philip could be so rearranged by her, well, that is an old story. Strong women have been turning men inside out for centuries. Recall that Philip is a relatively unsophisticated young man. Ambrose, while advanced from him, was about as inexperienced with persons so unlike his countrymen. What seems clear and forthright to a rather sheltered young man, can melt away when confronted with the formidable presence and charm of a more sophisticated and attractive woman.Again, I do not think Rachel set about with cunning and craftiness. I think she was of a mindset that saw no problem with acquiring as she did and with sharing with her fellow countryman with whom she had a much longer and deeper tie than this simple, probably seemingly rather cold Englishman – either in the case of Ambrose originally and later with Philip. Whether or not she actually did away with Ambrose is up for conjecture. But her total confounded disbelief when she fell into Philip's literal trap at the end was genuine. I think her sense of ethics and moral justification were so diverse from Philip's that he could not but think of her as deliberate in cunning. The combination of expressed affection and seeming duplicity were maddeningly incomprehensible to him. Rachel violated Philip's expectations and moral code on several counts. His obsession with her and perception of that drove him to violate it himself. (not revealing the end)
fedor8
I had to laugh at the conclusion of this mystery drama! I couldn't keep a straight face at the kind of cop-out conclusion du Maurier slapped on this novel's end. Throughout the ENTIRE story she throws bundles of evidence at us, both that de Havilland (Rachel) IS guilty and that she ISN'T guilty. The reader/viewer is manipulated and lead on like an obedient little dog to sniff out every little clue which du "Agatha Christie" Maurier points to, and like a good little doggy we, the viewers, follow the clues, thinking - as it turns out - very naively that the clues will lead us to a bone, i.e. to a reasonable, logical conclusion to the complex mystery of Rachel's past, her intentions, and whether she killed Burton's relative or not.But what happens at the end? Burton, being convinced of her guilt, arranges an "accident" which kills her, but moments before she dies he suddenly gets (yet another) clue - one that seems to suggest her innocence. The last scene is Burton looking at the sea-shore, telling himself how he will never find out whether she was guilty or not. What a cop-out. Sure, one can argue that it's the kind of mysterious ending that is suitable to a story full of mystery and heavy contradictions, and I have nothing against endings that are ambiguous. However, the major problem with this is that du Maurier gives us very strong arguments to support Rachel's innocence, as well as bombarding us with enough evidence and clues that point to her guilt to make a black L.A. jury convict ten O.J. Simpsons. In other words, Rachel can be neither innocent nor guilty - as absurd as that sounds; whichever conclusion one prefers - there is too much info pointing in the other direction. And that is exactly why the ending is without an answer; my belief is that the writer herself didn't so much strive for a mysterious, romantic, ambiguous ending so much as strive for a way to conclude the book which enables her to escape the trappings of her own illogicalities and inconsistencies. She had realized what a mess she had written - as far as common sense and logic were concerned - and knew that a clear-cut ending wouldn't make any sense. She cons the viewer into attentively following the story, as the latter waits for a reasonable explanation. In that way she succeeds; after all, the story keeps your attention, and the interest actually grows.The evidence pointing to de Havilland's innocence is not as abundant as that pointing towards her guilt, but it can be considered sufficient: 1) she does not sue for her late husband's assets (though this can be explained away as a refined tactic of hers - but I think it's too far-fetched to explain it away like that), 2) de Havilland shows genuine care for Burton's mental instability - during his illness - when she makes a rather worried and sad facial expression at a time when no one was watching her (so there was no point in faking it), 3) the letter which Burton finds at the end.The case for her guilt is more voluminous, though: 1) she looks extremely worried about Burton having received her late husband's secret letters: worried in a rather guilty-looking way, 2) the highly suspicious poisonous(?) seed which grew both in the garden at Burton's villa, and Rachel's home in Italy, and which Burton even finds in a hidden(?) envelope (this last scene makes her look extremely suspicious - it isn't common to send seeds through mail), 3) the way she suddenly changes her tone toward Burton once she inherits everything - and this sudden change CANNOT be explained away by the fact that she was perhaps annoyed by his sudden and public marriage proposal (which may or may not have taken place the night before - even this du Maurier can't or won't tell us), 4) the way she offers Burton a cup of her own tea, but won't drink it herself - and throws it in the grass - after he asks her to drink it herself, 5) she then comes to him with another highly suspicious liquid concoction, and even tells him that he must drink it when she leaves (though this can perhaps be explained away by her worry about his condition - but that's a rather shaky argument), 6) her suspicious past - rumours or not, she seems to have at least some skeletons - which includes: a) the one about her having lost her first husband in a duel between him and her lover, b) having large debts, and living beyond her means, c) any two-time widow in her mid-30s is suspicious unless your name is Anna Nicole Smith, d) her immediate over-drawing of money from her bank-account, the moment she received Burton's first generous payment, e) her sending of big amounts of money to Italy.A lot of the clues which point in one way or another depended less on the story than on de Havilland's acting; the facial expressions she makes in some key situations alternately show both guilt and innocence. The fact that she reacts in ways that both make her look extremely suspicious and innocent, alternately, is not her fault: de Havilland, like the author herself, didn't herself know whether she was playing a killer or not, so she had little choice in trying to act logically. Burton plays a rather naive guy in his 20s, who actually signs off all his possessions to Rachel - against the advice of his lawyer - and even tears apart Rachel's late husband's letters which are rather incriminating. He plays a guy so dumb that I figured that if she is ripping him off then he probably deserves it.The film ends with a giant scam - the cop-out - but it is nevertheless very involving, increasingly interesting, and fairly atmospheric.
