...have to watch this movie. Now I have.
I'm watching the AFI Top 100 Films (10th Anniversary Edition) in a calendar year and writing about them.
Film 27
27. "Sophie's Choice" (AFI Rank #91)
I was 14 years old when this film premiered. I remember, distinctly, clips showing three people, one of which was Kevin Kline, one who was Meryl Streep, and one was a no-name. They wore funny 20s-style clothing, and appeared to be a bunch of bohemians caught up in some sort of love triangle. It appeared to be a film about a woman who needed to choose between a couple of lovers.
I was at least somewhat, partially right.
This film is 33 years old. *SPOILER ALERT* The now famous choice that is really referred to is the choice placed on Sophie (Streep), when her character arrived at Auschwitz, during WWII. She was forced to choose between which of her two children she would be allowed to bring into the camp, her daughter or her son. The other was going to "go over there." Threatened with the loss of both, she chooses her son...and her daughter is taken away, screaming hysterically, by a faceless Nazi, to be killed. More on this to come.
Directed by Alan J. Pakula, "Sophie's Choice" is really a film about characters, more than overwhelming plot. Not a whole lot happens to the characters in present time that makes us feel any compelling need to continue to watch their stories. We are tugged into this film because we feel overwhelming connection to the actors inhabiting these damaged people, and we are told the stories of why two of them got to be that way.
Save a really gorgeous scene with Kline directing Beethoven's "Symphony No. 9" in a phalanx of bay windows, the cinematography of the film is hardly that technical. It's sumptuous, but there aren't a bunch of breathtaking moments where we see a technician at his/her finest. Yet, because of the way that the acting performances are captured, we can't help but stare at the pictures on the screen. The haunting image of Streep's face shown above is one example.
And that's the reason we watch this film. The actors. I admit that while watching this for the first time last night...I was not certain that it's a film that needs inclusion on this list. EXCEPT IT IS, because it captures arguably the finest film actor in what may be her finest performance. But she didn't do it alone, and I don't know if we credit her for lifting everyone up, or we credit Pakula for drawing these performances out of his actors, or we credit the supporting actors for making Streep so unbelievably believable.
Our first contact with the film is through a character named Stingo, a writer from the South who is moving to Brooklyn to write his great American novel. Played by Peter MacNicol, an actor whose other great success was on the television show "Ally McBeal," Stingo is meant to be the eyes through which we observe the other characters, Nathan and Sophie. Stingo, while perhaps a little naive, has pain in his life, and is trying to process the death of his mother through his novel. However, we realize that Stingo's story that he actually writes is really the story of Sophie and Nathan, two lovers he meets at the boarding house he moves into, as there are several voice-over narrations...read as if they were being read from a novel...none of which are voiced by MacNicol. Stingo blows into town with a heart full of angst, and meets two people so wounded that he is taken out of himself, and tells their tale instead. We watch Stingo go from awkward alien in a world that he doesn't really inhabit, into a confident, if misguided, young man with a purpose. Even if that purpose is really not his own. MacNicol hits all the right chords, and provides a fascinating foil for Streep and Kline. A character without a lot of extreme emotions, Stingo is the anchor of the film, the thing that keeps us from dismissing the other two as just flakes. No, they recognize that he's a real guy, and treat him with the respect that a real guy deserves, while allowing themselves their flights of fancy. 
Sophie's lover, Nathan, portrayed by Kevin Kline, is an unstrung genius. Claiming to be a Harvard graduate, with a degree in Biology, Nathan is everything we expect from the intellectual elite. He works for Pfizer Pharmaceuticals. He quotes Emily Dickinson, dresses in odd period clothing every Sunday, plays the piano like a wiz, and berates those close to him, for seemingly no reason, but in a manner that shreds their every fiber. Our first physical encounter with Nathan is him screaming at Sophie that she is all manners of disease...until he arrives at death. "You are DEATH!" He then meets Stingo, whom he mocks with a Southern yokel accent, and storms out of the building, only to return, deeply apologetic, a few hours later. The next morning, Nathan, as sweet and kind as can be, re-introduces himself to Stingo, and proposes a day at Coney Island. As time goes on, we learn that Nathan is working on a project that will likely earn the Nobel Prize, and probably cure polio. We also learn that he's a paranoid schizophrenic, who was incapable of attending college, does indeed work at Pfizer, as a librarian; and that he is addicted to cocaine. It explains the violent mood swings that Nathan displays...and that others seem so willing to forgive, because he's just so...capable...when he's not that person. Stingo is the only person entrusted with Nathan's secret, and his learning of this information barely registers a reaction from him. We are left to wonder about those around us, and the levels of bullshit/shield that we receive from them on a daily basis. Kline is masterful in the role. You see the suave intelligence and oozing charisma that he displays in most roles he plays, but you also see the impish side that earned him an Oscar for "A Fish Called Wanda." Kline earned his chops on stage on Broadway. You can see the theatre written all over his performance here, but also see a talented film actor, with subtle tics and movements that make us buy him as a real human. He may be a leading man, but he's got real features, and he's comfortable to us. It's a terrific performance.
Legendary, of course, is Streep's Oscar-winning performance as Sophie, a Polish refugee. Achingly beautiful, Sophie is so fragile, yet so confident; so wounded, yet so healthy; so fractured; yet so whole. She displays an intelligence, borne of her upbringing as the child of a renowned university professor, that makes us want to talk with her, and hear what she has to say. We learn that she speaks several languages, not the least of which is German. As the film progresses, however, we realize that so much of what Sophie says is half-truth, minimized statements that hide the past that we eventually are shown in the finale. Sophie, we learn early in the film, was in a concentration camp in WWII, put there because her father was a resistance fighter, and that she joined him in the struggle. Not much more is said about it. Eventually, after she and Nathan disappear, Stingo goes looking for her, only to discover a Polish professor who knew not only her, but her father. He gets the straight story, finally, that her father was not a force for good, but a Nazi sympathizer, and a raging anti-semite, who was captured when the Nazis purged the intellectuals. Confronted with this truth, Sophie starts to tell her story, including a long set piece in which she describes how she was treated in Auschwitz. We learn that her daughter was killed, and that she was given a job as secretary to the Commandant, Rudolf Hoess, because of her knowledge of German, and her stunning Aryan good looks. Told in flashback, the conclusion of this piece is the fate of Sophie's son, who was at the camp with her. Never flinching from Streep when we see her in the present, the camera feels like a window into her soul. Only an actor capable of allowing us in can achieve that intimacy. And yet...we are hoodwinked. Again. .jpg)
The scene that made me want to avoid this film, and the scene which will haunt me, and probably every viewer of this film, is the scene that serves as the climax to the film. In it, we learn what the title means. I've discussed it briefly above, in terms of content, but I haven't described its emotional impact. Streep claims it was filmed in one take. Everyone else remembers it differently, and that there were actually 13 takes of the most awful moment in it...the moment when Sophie's daughter is ripped from her mother's arms. So convincingly played, not only by Streep, but by the 4 year old who was playing her daughter, the scene hits us in places we'd rather not be hit. The Holocaust is a horrific event, one that most of us can't wrap our heads around, no matter how we try, without the dramatic moments that we've seen on film. What moments like that do, however, is bring that pain to a place that makes us wonder what would cause a human to do that. Not only once, but countless times. The Nazis were not robots. They may have been inhuman...but they were humans. What place in us contains that part, the part that would view another human, especially a child, as a pox that needed to be eliminated? We all have it in us, somewhere, I think. I'm getting off track. Streep's silent scream...is chilling. I shan't forget it.
I need to shut up. "Sophie's Choice" is a great film. Watch it.
Ebert's original review is here. Once again...Roger and I are watching the same movie. He didn't rewrite an essay on this towards the end of his life, but his original review is available.
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