"Oleanna" began as a play, and a play it will remain, long after this movie has faded. It's interesting to note that it WAS written and directed by the playwright, which makes one want to think that this must be the True Vision, the play as the playwright intended it, and everything within it is how the play should be understood.
Putting aside this, let's assume Mamet is just a playwright, and isn't nearly as good a film director as he thinks he is. Plays, unlike films, are open for a variety of interpretations (both visually and mentally), and while Mamet does take steps to make the (extremely) frustrating dialogue work-- occasionally moving the characters out of the cramped office, or adding subtle little visual distractions-- we cannot accept this to be the only interpretation. For myself, the film's climax doesn't work; on the page the events happen very quickly, in the film, it feels stretched out, forced. It's difficult to go into detail without giving anything away, but I get the feeling Mamet turned over those 2 minutes of film to someone else, then came back in to stage the final moment, which I think works quite well.
At the heart of the movie, we have the only two characters who ever speak, John (a professor) and Carol (a student). Mamet writes extremely distinct dialogue, which many scholars have called "realistic" but I call "frustrating." These two characters, like in most of Mamet's theatre work, exist in a world of their own, free from actual beneficial communication, where ideas and thoughts are exchanged only rarely, and then only with great difficulty. It is a world not unlike our own.
As tense as this movie made me, I still have to recommend it, as it provokes discussion, which American movies rarely do these days. It shows just what dialogue can do to a situation, how simply our language can twist simple events... and maybe it even says something about relationships between teacher vs. student, male vs. female, young vs. old, intellectual vs. not, or wise vs. inexperienced. Or maybe it says nothing at all about these things. A play, unlike a movie, doesn't offer any answers-- it just asks you questions, which will stick with you long after you leave your seat.
Putting aside this, let's assume Mamet is just a playwright, and isn't nearly as good a film director as he thinks he is. Plays, unlike films, are open for a variety of interpretations (both visually and mentally), and while Mamet does take steps to make the (extremely) frustrating dialogue work-- occasionally moving the characters out of the cramped office, or adding subtle little visual distractions-- we cannot accept this to be the only interpretation. For myself, the film's climax doesn't work; on the page the events happen very quickly, in the film, it feels stretched out, forced. It's difficult to go into detail without giving anything away, but I get the feeling Mamet turned over those 2 minutes of film to someone else, then came back in to stage the final moment, which I think works quite well.
At the heart of the movie, we have the only two characters who ever speak, John (a professor) and Carol (a student). Mamet writes extremely distinct dialogue, which many scholars have called "realistic" but I call "frustrating." These two characters, like in most of Mamet's theatre work, exist in a world of their own, free from actual beneficial communication, where ideas and thoughts are exchanged only rarely, and then only with great difficulty. It is a world not unlike our own.
As tense as this movie made me, I still have to recommend it, as it provokes discussion, which American movies rarely do these days. It shows just what dialogue can do to a situation, how simply our language can twist simple events... and maybe it even says something about relationships between teacher vs. student, male vs. female, young vs. old, intellectual vs. not, or wise vs. inexperienced. Or maybe it says nothing at all about these things. A play, unlike a movie, doesn't offer any answers-- it just asks you questions, which will stick with you long after you leave your seat.