whatmotivatedmeuptothenewdirector'sfestivaltocatch'martinfrost'tonightwasthebrutalreviewthatitgotyesterdayfromtheleadcriticofthenewyorktimes,brutaldismissal,tobemoreaccurate,'thelesssaidaboutitthebetter',shesaid,andifiguredthatanymovieabletoteachMsDargisthevirtueofsilenceforevenafewcolumnincheswouldbeworththetrip　　andworththetripitwaswearebroughtintoaparadiseoflimpidlybeautifulvisualtexturestheoakenrhythmsofacountryhouseensconcedinaspringtimeparklandofluxurianttreesandluminousskiesbestowthesoothingnaturalblessingneededbythemaincharacter,martinfrostDavidThewlis,awriterrubbedrawbythemechanicsoffinishinganovelinnewyorkcityThewlismakespalpablethecasualtyofintrapsychicmachinerysawedintodaemonicreverbagainstthebanausichivethenparadisemorphsintopurgatory,leavenedcomedically,inDante'ssense,bythepostmodernangelicvisitationsofClaireIreneJacobsandAnnaSophieAuster　　unfortunately,tomytaste,theverbaldimensionsofthefilmareflaccid,thelogicmorefancifulthanimaginative,thenarrativearccrippledbysomeirredeemablycreakyplotting,especiallyatthecrucialinitiationoftherelationshipbetweenmartinandClairewheretheseedsofcommonsensearethrowntothemagpiesoftheatricality　　butsobeguilingisthewillfulvulnerabilityofauster'sfantasy,andtheedgyinterplaythatitpotentiatesbetweenThewlisandJacobs,andthecamera,andlaterSophieAuster,andthebroadcomedyofaruraleverymanMichaelImperioli,thatitisverypleasanttobecarriedalongonthevisualfoamofuncertainsensualdelight,eddyingintoafeelingthatthisfilm'soddlylouchelighttouchisuniquelyadeptattracingsomegravelineamentsofthehumanheart　　goinnocently