THE END OF THE AFFAIR

THE END OF THE AFFAIR

Directed by Neil Jordan. Starring Ralph Fiennes, Julianne Moore, Stephen Rea, Ian Hart.

NEIL JORDAN's twelfth movie to date, and in many respects his bleakest, The End Of The Affair is British period drama at its most harsh and unforgiving. Demanding, emotionally exhausting and profoundly sad, it's not exactly one for casual Friday-night viewing, but few who take the time to see it will fail to be knocked for six. Adapted from Graham Greene's semi-autobiographical novel about an extra-marital affair in wartime London, the entire thing is racked with the kind of guilt, anger and existential weariness one would more commonly associate with Abel Ferrara, and even die-hard period buffs might find it heavy going. Wounded lovers, on the other hand, are in for a rare treat, if not one likely to lift the spirits.

Although coated in an atmosphere of complete desolation - with lighting to match, and rainfall an apparently constant presence - there is nevertheless something instantly captivating about the film.

Intricately-structured, The End Of The Affair unfolds in back-and-forth, flashback-heavy format: it kicks off in 1946, with novelist Maurice Bendrix (Fiennes) shuffling along a darkened street, when he runs into old pal Henry Miles (Rea). Miles is in a thoroughly miserable state, and confides his suspicions that his wife Sarah (Moore) might be having a fling - this comes as little shock to Bendrix, who had spent most of World War Two's duration embroiled in an extremely passionate affair with the self-same Sarah.

To satisfy his curiosity and put his own mind at rest, Bendrix then hires a private detective (Hart) to spy on Sarah's movements - meanwhile, the film flashes back and forth in time, outlining the course of Bendrix and Sarah's torrid affair and tracing its irreparable effects on the lives of both parties. Few films in recent memory have illustrated the extremes of passion as masterfully, or as brutally - Jordan illustrates with acute precision how easily all-consuming love can become tinged with hatred, and he's amply assisted by two fine actors on the top of their form. Fiennes invests the Bendrix role with his unique stamp - emotionally intense yet cold and aloof, his sardonic world-weariness shines through every single facial flicker. Moore, meanwhile, has never been better, a dangerously potent brew of fiery passion and chilled remoteness - throw the two together, and you're left with a chemistry that burns the screen to near-cinders.

While hardly a barrel of laughs, there's absolutely no arguing with the film's morbid, melancholic intensity. You will have a fair idea by this point whether or not it fits in with your idea of fun, and the strong Catholic subtext might leave 21st-century audiences shifting a shade uneasily in their seats - but for all its anguished fatalism, it's far more than just an exercise in masochism.

Utterly absorbing, if defiantly glum and truly, deeply depressing, The End Of The Affair is as brave and accomplished a literary adaptation as any I've ever seen. Hell, I'm even half-tempted to read the book.

RATING: HHHHH