Writer-director Bart Freundlich’s adaptation of Susanne Bier’s 2006 Oscar-nominated film After the Wedding (it was Denmark’s foreign language submission for the 2007 Oscars) takes the framework of the original with a different twist. Instead of two male protagonists, Freundlich pairs two of the finest actresses working today, giving them some great material to work with. As After the Wedding opens, there’s a tranquility that feels almost too calm for anyone’s good. Isabel (Michelle Williams) is leading a group of young kids in meditation but that peaceful moment doesn’t wash over you as it should. Early on, it’s easy to tell there is much more happening in the film. “…Isabel runs an orphanage in India, which appears to be the center of her entire life.” We find out Isabel runs an orphanage in India, which appears to be the center of her entire life. She treats every child as if they were her own, caring for them with natural maternal instincts. She receives word a benefactor is interested in investing money in the orphanage and would like to meet with Isabel. The only thing is, she has to go to New York City and the thought of being away from the children for an extended period of time is hard for Isabel. She finds out $2 million is on the table, and it would be in the children’s best interest if she takes the meeting, so she heads to New York to meet with Theresa (Julianne Moore), who is in the midst of planning her daughter’s wedding while trying to run her company. Isabel and Theresa couldn’t be more different or part of such opposite worlds; just spending time with her in New York makes Isabel feel like a stranger in a strange land.<doc-sep>The female characters are the least interesting thing in the original version of “After the Wedding,” an otherwise exceptional, Oscar-nominated Danish drama from “Bird Box” director Susanne Bier. Fortunately, that’s not at all true of a sharp new English-language remake that gender-flips the two lead roles to be played by women, providing an incredibly rich showcase for the immense talents of Julianne Moore (who goes big) and Michelle Williams (understated and devastating) in the process. So often it happens that American producers fall in love with a perfectly strong foreign film, snapping up the remake rights, only to water it down for domestic consumption. That’s not the case here, as all involved have endeavored to maintain, if not strengthen, a grown-up scenario that respects the audience’s intelligence, even as it rather shamelessly hikes the emotional stakes with nearly every scene once the momentum gets going. After a point, the twists come so steadily that I actually found myself holding my breath for long stretches — despite the fact that I know the original well — eager to see how key revelations would play out within this new dynamic. Remember, producer-star Moore respects foreign cinema enough that when asked to redo the Chilean film “Gloria” last year, she made it a condition that the original director be invited back to shepherd it. In this case, Moore has enlisted “The Myth of the Fingerprints” helmer Bart Freundlich (who also happens to be her husband) to re-write and direct. Truth be told, he does a terrific job of it, sticking close to the original structure as he sensitively navigates the subtler points of a melodrama that could have very easily veered into the operatic, while getting the most from his leading lady. Still, when it comes time to make Oscar predictions, Moore will probably land in the supporting category: This is really Isabel’s story, as Williams plays an idealistic young woman who has found peace and purpose in her life halfway around the globe, offering her services at an Indian orphanage. But such operations do not run on goodwill alone, and confronted with the possibility of a generous donation from Theresa Young (Moore), a wealthy New York City-based businesswoman, she agrees to fly back to the States to secure the deal. Once Isabel arrives, however, she’s frustrated to find her would-be benefactor distracted by her daughter’s marriage ceremony. Isabel has reason to be skeptical of “mother Theresa,” although this magnanimous matriarch’s motives are far more complicated than Isabel possibly could have imagined — which soon becomes clear when the bride, Grace (Abby Quinn), drops a bombshell during an unplanned wedding toast. Also, from the look in Isabel’s eyes, we can tell not only that she has history with Grace’s father, an artist named Oscar (Billy Crudup), but that their past probably goes a long way to explain the path her life has taken. Because one of the film’s key pleasures is discovering and processing the revelations as they come, it’s best not to divulge too much of the plot up front, except to say that this artichoke of a movie gets infinitely more satisfying as we work our way inward. As an admirer of Bier’s Danish work — which includes “Open Hearts,” “Brothers,” and “In a Better World” — I’m repeatedly amazed at how she manages to walk the tightrope of emotional credibility above the treacherous chasm of her chosen genre: melodramas that hinge on all-but-impossible moral decisions, rendered small by an awareness of more pressing world events. In “Brothers” (also remade in the States), an assumed-dead character returns from being held as a prisoner of war, while “After the Wedding” has that whole heal-the-world orphanage thing going on. In both versions of the latter, the film cuts abruptly from the Third World aid worker in India to the relatively privileged donor singing along in his/her car (to Lady Gaga’s “Edge of Glory” here, an improvement over the earlier film’s chosen anthem of “It’s Raining Men”). I’ve always felt that Bier had some kind of miracle touch, balancing what might have felt over-the-top in another director’s hands with carefully chosen human detail — what Hollywood suits call “execution dependent,” meaning that you can’t just give the same script to any director and expect them to deliver. And yet Freundlich (who hasn’t exactly felt like an auteur in his previous work) skillfully manages to navigate these pitfalls according to his own personality. Granted, Freundlich has the benefit of Bier’s screenplay contributions to guide him, but in his particular execution, the story feels grounded for a very different strategy from Bier’s: Rather than going out of his way to include recognizable human moments, he strips away anything excessive, allowing subtext to surface in the quiet spaces between dialogue. When characters do talk, it’s mostly to present key information, and Freundlich frequently cuts away right when the conversations are getting interesting — dropping out the part where tough things are said (as when the newlywed Grace would reveal why she’s already thinking about divorce). He also encourages his two leading ladies to explore seemingly opposite techniques in their performances. Williams offers up a master class in minimalism, letting audiences read Isabel’s turmoil in her eyes while conveying the strength of her character’s convictions each time she’s tested — and even in small, private ways, whether meditating alone or opting for the stairs over the elevator. It’s a testament to the actress that we sense a fragility behind that tough façade — an unspoken reminder that everything Isabel now represents she has rebuilt in the wake of a difficult decision made years earlier. Moore experiments at the other extreme: Theresa is a powerful woman, who can be a bull in a china shop at work and downright brutal when she drinks. And yet, in several key scenes, she holds back what she’s feeling — as in a birthday dinner with colleagues, where her family is surprised to see her keep a burning secret — which makes her climactic scene the kind of wrenching display that gives you goosebumps even when featured out of context during televised awards shows. It’s a bit much, to be honest, although she’s earned it by this point, if only because it reveals what her character has been hiding in all but that Lady Gaga sing-along where we first glimpsed her. In the Danish version of things, Williams’ character was played by Mads Mikkelsen, who must unpack the agenda of a male philanthropist, whose wife and daughter barely register as human beings (they’re plot devices at best). It’s still an incredible strong film, but a reminder that just a dozen years ago, female directors often found themselves failing the Bechdel Test. Here, Quinn — as Moore and Crudup’s daughter — also comes away with more to do, holding her own opposite the two accomplished actresses. Even without this game of comparison to distract, those who haven’t seen the Oscar-nominated film ought to appreciate all that has gone into rethinking the film for the benefit of its female characters.<doc-sep>Anyone worried that Robert Redford’s fleeting appearance at the Sundance opening press conference on Thursday morning signaled he was stepping away from the film festival he founded, breathe easy. The Hollywood legend proved the opposite at the opening night screening of Bart Freundlich’s “After the Wedding” at Park City’s Eccles Theater. Redford gave an impromptu history of the 34-year-old festival, just before Freundlich teed up his latest film starring his wife Julianne Moore, as well as Michelle Williams and Billy Crudup. The familial drama landed laughs for Moore’s crisp portrayal of a female CEO losing control, and tears for Williams’ turn as an isolated woman running from an old mistake. But first, Redford. “I didn’t have the space at my place,” Redford said of his Utah ranch, when he conceived the festival in 1985. “It’s further, deeper in the mountains. Not enough space and the closest was Park City. There was only one theater, the Egyptian.” Redford recalled that first opening night, which was “kind of weird, because there was nobody coming in. I’m standing outside the theater trying to hustle people in, and people were wondering why I was standing out there. That was a tough sell.” Having Redford remind you of the importance of emerging artistic voices is a dream boost for any film, but “After the Wedding” packed a punch even without the actor’s tacit endorsement. Williams plays Isabel, the head caregiver of an Indian orphanage who has problems with her benefactor, the glossy and distracted media CEO Theresa (Moore). Isabel must travel to New York to secure a new round of funding, which would give tens of thousands of children access to medicine, food, and a life free from child prostitution. On her mandatory handshake trip, Isabel is invited to the wedding of Theresa’s daughter (Abby Quinn), at the luxurious Long Island spread she shares with artist husband Oscar (Crudup). Once there, it becomes clear there is a deeper history between the group, as secrets and betrayals bubble up like the overflowing glasses of Moet & Chandon imperial that are liberally passed around on trays. Moore deeply satisfied the Hollywood crowd with her take on a harried corporate queen with a game-changing secret. She makes diva tantrums, martini-swilling and unapologetic privilege seem like the price of being a woman in power with limited control of her future. Williams, on the other hand, drew tears with her subtle but powerful portrayal of a woman taking responsibility for the choices she made in her youth. A series of decisions that impacted several lives over decades. “After the Wedding” is for sale and is repped by Endeavor Content and Cornerstone Films. The screening counted several buyers in the room including Michael Barker of Sony Pictures Classics, the team from Focus Features, and David Glasser, who just announced the formation of his Ron Burkle-backed shop 101 Studios. Glasser was dismissed as the COO of The Weinstein Company last year. The indie studio imploded in the midst of sexual harassment and assault allegations against its founder Harvey Weinstein. Glasser, who has denied knowing about Weinstein’s alleged crimes and misdeeds, previously declared his intentions to come to Sundance with an eye towards acquiring films for domestic release. His presence was controversial. “It’s too soon,” one film executive in the theater noted. The evening continued to Main Street at the Chase Sapphire space, where Moore and Crudup chatted with the rest of the cast and their CAA agent Kevin Huvane. RELATED VIDEO:<doc-sep>
Somewhere in the middle of After The Wedding it becomes clear as day: Michelle Williams is one of a kind. Not that we didn’t know this already. Still, it’s nice to be reminded. Written and directed by Bart Freundlich, adapted from the 2006 Danish drama Efter brylluppet by Susanne Bier, Williams stars alongside Julianne Moore, Billy Crudup, and Abby Quinn. Isabel (Williams) is working at an orphanage in India when she’s told there’s a company in New York prepared to donate a substantial amount of money if only she goes and sells through the details. Reluctant at first, she ultimately travels to seal the deal with Theresa (Moore), a confident, controlled sort with a fancy artist husband (Crudup) and three children, of whom the oldest (Quinn) is getting married. Once in the city, Isabel is told the donation is still being considered, and Theresa needs the weekend to think it through. With this postponement comes an invitation for Isabel to their daughter’s wedding. From here things get complicated. Oh, the sheer volume of melodrama! And yet, it’s mostly welcome. Never straying too far from the beats of the original piece (save some crucial gender shifts), these are great actors chewing the heck out of the screen. The majority of this thing is people in cafes and living rooms and bars talking through each dilemma as it emerges. Williams is the standout, utilizing every little bit of her arsenal. Her Isabel is a forthright woman forever paying for the hardest decision in her life. That Williams’ character refuses to apologize for this choice, instead rationally explaining her reasoning and her regret, is immensely refreshing. This is a performer who has played every kind of role imaginable, showing off a range that feels unparalleled. Similarly do we have Julianne Moore, with perhaps the showier role of the two. That she and Crudup so cleanly and quickly sell their marriage as true and strong does wonders for where the movie will go. Both actors have worked with each other, and Freundlich (Moore is his wife, as a matter of fact) before, so the comfortability makes sense. On a tonal level, the film never truly finds its footing. Often in adaptations of foreign films does it feel this is the case. Moments of earnest comedy are quickly followed by moments of intense melancholy, something that feels equal parts true (that is how life is often, no?) and abrasive. One does wonder why these shifts tend to play better when subtitles are involved. Regardless, there is plenty on the screen to recommend. That young Abby Quinn is willing and able to hold her own against Williams, Moore, and Crudup is quite an accomplishment. After The Wedding is a worthy remake and an impressive look at what great performances can render. After The Wedding premiered at the Sundance Film Festival and opens on August 9. Follow our festival coverage here. Grade: B-