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