When Lucy Honeychurch and chaperone Charlotte Bartlett find themselves in Florence with rooms without views, fellow guests Mr Emerson and son George step in to remedy the situation. Meeting... See full summary »
An impoverished woman who has been forced to choose between a privileged life with her wealthy aunt and her journalist lover, befriends an American heiress. When she discovers the heiress is attracted to her own lover and is dying, she sees a chance to have both the privileged life she cannot give up and the lover she cannot live without.
Helena Bonham Carter,
Eight years earlier, Anne Elliot, the daughter of a financially troubled aristocratic family, was persuaded to break off her engagement to Frederick Wentworth, a young seaman, who, though ... See full summary »
A mute woman along with her young daughter, and her prized piano, are sent to 1850s New Zealand for an arranged marriage to a wealthy landowner, and she's soon lusted after by a local worker on the plantation.
When Lucy Honeychurch and chaperone Charlotte Bartlett find themselves in Florence with rooms without views, fellow guests Mr Emerson and son George step in to remedy the situation. Meeting the Emersons could change Lucy's life forever but, once back in England, how will her experiences in Tuscany affect her marriage plans? Written by
The hand that Charlotte Bartlett holds her purse in when she falls over the bicycle at the station. See more »
This is not at all what we were led to expect.
I thought we were going to see the Arno.
The signora distinctly wrote, South rooms, with a view and close together, instead of which she has given us North rooms without a view and a long way apart.
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That rarest of great novel adaptations-- a film that's better than the book
No disrespect to the achingly elegant prose of E.M. Forster, but the
last chapter of his novel simply cannot compare to this film's last
shot, of a pair of lovers in a pensione in Florence, finally with their
view of the Arno. As for the rest of this brilliant adaptation, it is
populated with actors so perfectly cast it's as if they'd been invented
for the roles-- Julian Sands as the Edwardian bohemian George Emerson,
Helena Bonham-Carter, radiant as Lucy Honeychurch, Denholm Elliott,
once again stealing every scene he's in, and Daniel Day-Lewis as the
priggish Cecil Vyse, in a performance so self-consciously stiff he
looks as though he were taken off the cover of the New Yorker. It's
romantic, funny, stylish and impassioned. I first saw this film when it
was released, and even at a young age, I knew I'd fallen in love.
Twenty years later, I'm still in love with it.
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