When the artist Lili Elbe completed its first gender reassignment surgery, she wrote later in his memoirs that the surgeon found the stunted remains of a back formed the womb of her body. No one knows if it’s true. The documentation was destroyed when the Nazis burned down the Dresden clinic where the surgery is performed, and her autobiographical writing stuff may well have spruced up the cheer fantasies.
However, there is solid evidence that Lili Elbe was the first transgender person who sounded surgery itself, a gender correction performed by the forward-looking doctor who understood that Lili was neither crazy or sick, just born in the wrong body. Lili, born Einar Wegener in Danish Vejle and initially successful landscape painter, also had an unusually sympathetic companion of Gerda Wegener, although she is an artist specializing in portraits and someone who not only sympathized with her partner, but also helped to carve out the woman he came to be.
Their history is touching and fascinating, two genuine original human destinies. Is “The Danish Girl” as touching and fascinating? No, unfortunately.
On paper bucks it’s all part of the most criteria which usually lead to politely praise and Oscar nominations: an epic narrative (interpreted from a novel by David Ebershoff), luxurious photo, lavish costumes and carefully reconstructed environments (Copenhagen scenes are filmed in Nyhavn and the orange Nyboder Quarter near Osterport station).
Eddie Redmaynes wide open face registering accurately all the delight and despair Einar undergoing its way to Lili. The starting when he can jump in as stand-in for a ballerina Gerda to paint and lose themselves completely in the dancer’s soft silk stockings. Still, lifting her film really succeeds not build a bridge between the model and interpretation.
Tom Hooper is theoretically a suitable director: his career has been dominated by bio films, as the bombastic ” the King’s Speech “and the entertaining football drama” the Damned United “(with Michael Sheen in the role of Manchester United’s short-lived coach Brian Clough). But this story fits his mannerisms worse – Lucinda Coxons script fueling his sweeping, sentimental traits which rather needed roughness and finesse, with an over transparent dialogue Redmayne and Vikander fighting feverishly to revive.
is a beautiful film, voluptuously vältrandes in all sorts of heirloom props with paint coats and cigarette holders and buzzing bohemian events, but the problem is that the whole story sticks to the surface: they are simply unable to get at the back of Einar / Lili arduous transfiguration, to seriously portray the thoughts, fears, hopes. Perhaps the explanation is that they have chosen to make Gerda’s perspective to the dominant. For the fact is that the film is more about the smudged marriage than about Lili metarmofos, more about Gerda than Einar / Lili – and it is also Alicia Vika Flinders Gerda carrying the film, which is its emotional engine and gets its main prevail.
As a history lesson and snyftare fills “the Danish Girl” certainly a feature, but it’s hard not to think about what a sensitive, courageous director could pull out from Lili.
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