I picked this up on whim from my local library. Being a fan of English settings and of period romance, I considered it a good candidate for some afternoon diversion. Unfortunately, it was one of those movies where you simultaneously want it to end, but feel impelled to watch it to finish (perhaps imagining that it will take a turn for the better, which this movie never does). So, yes, I was disappointed, but not as disappointed as I was when checking here and discovering that everyone who's reviewed this adaptation of a novel I admittedly have never read (and most likely never will, now) found it so wonderful!
I see lots of comments about Zeta-Jones, but fail to understand what's so noteworthy in her performance here. I found it flat and lacking in dimension (I guess those are the same things). Eustacia is selfish, fickle and flighty and because of that, primarily just distant and distracted. I appreciate that this is her nature, but instead of finding her intriguing or even mysterious, I found myself annoyed and disinterested. This lack of depth mad her, in my mind, clearly unworthy of either of her two love interests, even considering that one becomes an adulterer. I found nothing tragic in her character, no subtlety that would beg for understanding. In fact, she wasn't even very good at being the evil temptress/witch.
Worst of all, her character never really develops, serving instead simply to provide the antagonist to the plot. Sure, Catherine's a doll, but that alone isn't enough to sustain interest in her role here. She has developed into a marvelous actress since this movie was made(as more recent performances attest to), so I have to assume that her relative inexperience as an actress at this point, combined with poor production values in the making of the movie, cast her in this bad light.
Overall, the story tries so hard to moralize, but employs some pretty lame appeals for sympathy. In particular, Clym's loss of sight seemed silly; I didn't feel at all for this guy with all of his obsessive book-reading (and doesn't one of the characters even warn him that he'll "go blind from all your reading"). He can't even put the damn book down when he's in bed with his beautiful new bride. Furthermore, Ray Stevenson's acting adds nothing to the role, which I found only to be yet again another flat performance.
Now I admit Clive Owen's Damon had some fire to him and his easily stands out as the best performance, but it couldn't save the film. I won't go on and on, but I will remark that this BBC production is not on par with others they've taken on, such as the absolutely glorious 1995 BBC/A&E version of Pride and Prejudice, but then not having read Hardy, I have no way of knowing if he was as clever an artist as Jane Austen was. I have to admit there are horrible adaptations of her work out there, as well, so for now, I'll give Hardy the benefit of the doubt (how nice of me, you're thinking) and write this off to an uninspired telling of his tale.
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