With two successes behind her, Jane Campion was on a roll when she made The Piano in 1993. It would become her most celebrated film to date, and, unfortunately, the last of her films to boast a highly distinctive and innovative style (as of 2005).

Historical Background: Jane Campion was already thirty-eight years of age when she appeared at the Cannes Film Festival in 1993 where her third film, Piano was all the buzz. What made the appearance remarkable was that Campion was also 7 ½ -months pregnant, with her first child, and airlines are very reluctant to accommodate women that close to term. Airlines hostesses are trained for a lot of contingencies, but are understandably loath to perform deliveries at high altitude!

Campion had been born in 1955 in Wellington, New Zealand, daughter of Richard Campion, a theater and opera director, and Edith Campion, an actress, so theater and cinema has been in Campion's blood from the beginning. Campion had once thought to become an actress, like her mother, but after one role on stage, she thought better of the idea. Later, she married Colin Englert, who is himself a producer and director and quite well known in Australian television. These folks are an integral part of Campion's support group, both personally and professionally. Campion's mother had a small role in her second film, An Angel at My Table (1990). Her father was constantly on the set during the shooting of The Piano and nightly sat through the rushes, providing praise for the successful takes and gentle encouragement in relation to those still needing more work. Campion's husband served as second unit director.

Campion was no stranger, in 1993, to the atmosphere of the Cannes Film Festival. She graduated from the Australian Film, Television, and Radio School and gained attention as early as 1982 for her student project, Peel, which won an award at Cannes. Then, in 1989, her debut feature film, Sweetie, had created quite a buzz and, according to the gossip building up to the award ceremony, was in line for some kind of recognition. In the end, it was snubbed. It was the kind of subject matter and novel cinematic language that created a stir and drew admirers, but critics who did not like it tended to loathe it. Campion was therefore optimistically cautious, in 1993, not putting too much stock in all of the whispers. Besides, after appearing with the trio of stars from The Piano, she had to fly home to New Zealand without waiting for the awards to be passed out. The airline was getting antsy about her ripening abdomen. Thus, she was already back in New Zealand when word came that The Piano had shared the Golden Palm at Cannes with a fine Asian film, Farewell My Concubine.

The Story: Ada McGrath (Holly Hunter) is a strange woman indeed. Born in Scotland near the middle of the nineteenth century, Ada chaffs under the constraints of the rigidly chauvinistic Victorian social precepts. In the opening prologue, she informs us, by voiceover narrative, "I have not spoken since I was 6 years old. Nobody knows why, least of all myself. This is not the sound of my voice. It is the sound of my mind." At least her inner voice is intact. Ada communicates with the world in two other ways. She speaks in sign language and is a highly expressive pianist. She conveys her ideas through signing but her passions through her music. Some years earlier, Ada gave birth to an illegitimate child, Flora (Anna Paquin), who is now about nine years of age. Ada's father, in accordance with Victorian customs, has sold her into marriage – to a settler in distant New Zealand, whom she has never met.

The film turns almost immediately to the arrival of Ada and Flora in Oceania. They are shuttled to shore by rowboats since there are, as yet, no harbors or docks nearby this wild country. Even then, they and their luggage have to be borne ashore from the rowboats by porters, as a wild surf pounds the shoreline. In addition to the usual assortment of luggage, Ada has brought along her grand piano! The porters are Maori tribesmen who sometimes work as laborers for Ada's husband, Alisdair Stewart (Sam Neill). Ada and Flora are already ashore when Stewart arrives. After commenting disparagingly on Ada's rather fragile frame, he surveys their belongings, demanding to know what is in each crate. Much to Ada's chagrin, he decides that the piano will be too much trouble to haul inland to his home and insists on abandoning it on the beach, despite Ada's pleadings. Leaving the piano behind is tantamount to cutting out Ada's tongue or, at least, the part of her capacity for expression pertaining to her feelings. Stewart says he likes quiet women anyway.

Ada and Flora have to settle in at Stewart's household. Ada is angry and cold and Stewart forces no premature intimacy upon her, hoping that she will come around and become affectionate given time. Ada has other things on her mind. One day when her husband is away, she asks (through Flora, who translates Ada's signing) a neighbor, George Baines (Harvey Keitel), a former whaler, if he'll guide them to the beach where they landed. He is reluctant and initially refuses, but when Ada and Flora camp out in his yard, he relents. At the beach, Ada removes the slat closest to the keys and plays wondrous, passionate music, like some kind of siren, while Flora dances about joyously. Poor Baines is almost immediately a lost man. He's never heard anything so moving as Ada's piano music.

In contrast to Stewart, Baines has partly assimilated into Maori customs, even to the extent of their facial tattoos. The Maori are an earthy people who talk openly about such matters as copulation. They laugh, for example, when the young Maori boys pretend to hump the tree trunks. The Maori women chide Baines for not having taken a woman, telling him that balls are wasted on such a man. Stewart, by contrast, remains bound by the Victorian standards of his own Scottish heritage, including the Chauvinism, excess emphasis on propriety, and sexual repression.

Baines settles on a plan. He offers Stewart eighty acres of land in trade for the piano. He'll need lessons as well. Stewart can hardly refuse since a piano on a beach is of no use to him. Ada is irate at the arrangement. "That is MY piano – MINE!!" she writes emphatically, on a piece of notepaper. "We all have to make sacrifices," Stewart insists, unsympathetically. As for the lessons, he adds, "You will do it! I will see to it!" Just the idea of the uncouth Baines applying his fingers to the keyboard is enough to turn Ada's stomach.

Soon, the piano has been set up in Baines's cottage and Ada arrives, under duress, to oblige with the first lesson. Baines surprises her, however, saying, "I don't want to play. I'd rather just listen and learn that way." Ada sits down and, after some tentative scales, is soon playing in her usual passionate manner. At first, Baines does just listen, but soon he finds the passionate stirrings of his own nature spilling over into the sexual domain. He tries stroking Ada's neck. When she recoils, he makes her an offer. If she'll let him "do certain things" while she plays, he'll trade her the keys of the piano, one key for each session. The shrewd Ada, sensing the intensity of his desire, negotiates the bargain down to the black keys only. The deal is struck and soon Baines is gently kissing her neck as she plays spiritedly. Later that night, Baines, alone and naked in his home, gently polishes the piano with a rag.

Subsequent "lessons" are accompanied by an ever-intensifying crescendo in Baines's passionate desire for Ada. He offers five black keys, as he sits at her tapping feet, under the piano, if she'll raise her skirt and hoop to reveal her long, black stockings. He finds a patch of thigh flesh exposed through a small hole in one stocking and caresses her gently. During the next lesson, he disappears into his bed cubby. She goes to investigate but he emerges stark naked. He's a virile man of rugged physique and not without his effect on Ada's sensibilities. He offers her five more keys for the whole shebang. She demands ten, which he's delighted to pay. Soon, she's bare naked in his bed.

The next time Ada returns to Baines's home, he's had a change of heart. He's had her body; now he wants her soul. He nobly, if belatedly, declares that their arrangement is making Ada a whore and himself a lecher. He gives her back her piano outright. Ada, who has been deriving double benefit from her erotic relationship with Baines, is motivated to continue it out of choice, now, rather than for payment.

During these "lessons" at Baines's residence, little Flora plays outside. When the music stops, however, her curiosity gets the best of her. Pretty soon, she's peeking in through the cracks in the walls and observes her mother doing the nasty with Baines. Now, Flora has inherited a pretty fair share of her mother's exaggerated willfulness. She's not real sure what's right and what's wrong in the world of adults, but she's pretty sure that her mother is being naughty. Pretty soon, she's tattling to her stepfather, as children often do. During the next lesson, Stewart secretly spies on Ada and Baines and gets an eyeful. He sees a lot more of his wife's body parts than he's seen close-up, for himself. He experiences at odd mix of angry jealousy and erotic excitement. The next day, when Ada heads off to provide Baines with another "lesson," Stewart intercepts her in the woods. Stewart is halfway into a violent insistence on "his share" of the goodies, but the noisy approach of Flora breaks up the would-be rape scene. Well, not legally rape, since she's his property anyway.

When the piano is moved to Stewart's home, Ada refuses to play for him. Incensed and understanding where her emotional attachment lies, Stewart boards up the windows of Ada's room and barricades her in. One way or another, he'll cut off her access to Baines. Ada decides to meet Stewart halfway. That night, she goes to his bedside and caresses him on his backside until he's aroused, but won't let him touch her. The up-tight Stewart has limited capacity for such eroticism but it's enough to get him to remove the shutters and unbar the door. He has work to do on a new fence and accepts her promise not to go to Baines while he's out. As soon as he's left, she writes a message to Baines on a piano key: "My heart is yours." She demands that the reluctant Flora deliver the message. Flora takes it to Stewart instead.

SPOILERS AHEAD. SKIP TO THEMES TO AVOID.

Well, now the feces hit the fan, so to speak, and Stewart and Ada have a grim showdown, in the film's most dramatic and memorable scene. It's violent and gruesome. I'll only say that Ada come through it, but less than fully intact. After she is bandaged up but still in pain and in bed, Stewart's thoughts turn once again to her thighs and forcing himself on her, over and above the damage he's already inflicted. At the last moment, he has second thoughts when he imagines hearing her voice, saying, "I afraid of what my terrible will might do." It occurs to Stewart that a woman as emphatically willful as Ada could be a real menace. After all, he still has to sleep. He decides to be done with her, instead, and gives her up to Baines – at gunpoint.

Soon, Ada and Baines are boarding the natives' canoes with the same luggage Ada brought ashore earlier and some of his own. They'll be moving to the city. The crated piano is precariously balanced on a large canoe. Inexplicably, Ada demands that the piano be dumped into the ocean. When she repeats her demand emphatically, the natives oblige and, more inexplicably, Ada impulsively plants her foot in the coil of rope attached to the piano, so that she gets suddenly ripped from the boat and dragged toward the floor of the sea. Then, most inexplicably again, at a depth of perhaps twenty yards below the surface, she slips her foot out of the shoe that is caught in the rope, while her inner voices expresses surprise that her will has chosen life. She rises to the surface and is pulled from the water, gasping, by the Maori crew. In something of an epilogue, we find Ada and Baines residing happily in the city, with Ada now a piano teacher.

Themes: The essential theme of this film is the Victorian suppression of a woman's right to self-determination as well as essentially depriving women of a voice. Over the course of the film, we observe Ada gradually acquiring power by drawing on the resources inherent in her femininity. Unfortunately, that positive theme is marred by the fact that Ada's burgeoning self-determination is based on an erratic, passion-driven willfulness, which is outside her own rational control. That is a quality that she will have to share with some of the greatest despots (mostly male) in history. Just consider the price paid by the world in relation to the irrational willfulness of men like Hitler and Stalin. A subsidiary theme is the value of giving vent to one's passions and erotic fantasies. Why waste life on pointless prudery?

Script Merits and Demerits: The Piano was nominated for eight Oscars and won three. Among the three trophies garnered was one for the script, which was written by Campion. The script does have considerable merit. It is chock full of passion and eroticism and those elements have more of a feminine sensibility than is typical in films. The script also provides an exotic setting, engaging characters, and good pace. On the other hand, the script just doesn't hold up to careful scrutiny. I understand that this is a film about passion and that we can't demand that passion be inherently logical. My problem with the script is that the characters are not psychologically coherent, especially Ada. Let's consider what we learn from this film about each of the four main characters.

Alisdair Stewart: Most reviewers are content to simply dismiss Stewart as an insensitive clod who gets what he deserves. That view is more valid than not, but not entirely just. Stewart has purchased a wife, which right away indicates he's something of a chauvinist, in keeping with the society of his time. He gets off on the wrong foot with Ada, first, by showing up late for her arrival, and, more importantly, refusing to have her piano carried to their home, despite her earnest pleadings. In his defense, it might be pointed out that he did not appreciate the importance of the piano to Ada as a means of communication. Furthermore, the life in the wilds of New Zealand could not have been substantially better than subsistence level living. His primary concern is how to survive, not how to provide music in the home. It is Ada's priorities that are out of keeping with the circumstances of their lives. Nevertheless, he would have been wise to make this initial concession and then discuss the realities of their circumstances once she was settled in. Then, he compounded his error by trading away the piano to Baines.

Also to his credit, Stewart did not force intimacy upon Ada when she first arrived. He hoped she would develop genuine affection for him and was prepared to wait until she would give herself to him willingly. By Victorian standards, Ada was his property and he could have forced her to accommodate his needs from the beginning. The frontier, where survival requires teamwork, was no place for a woman as willful and self-centered as Ada. Stewart ultimately realized Ada's unsuitability and passed her on to Baines. Obviously, there is no excuse or justification for the violent action that Stewart took against Ada, though he was certainly provoked by her marital infidelity.

George Baines: Many reviewers assume that Baines had already determined to have his way with Ada, or at least try, when he traded for the piano and lessons. In my opinion, Baines's motivations formed in stages and the seduction was not fully premeditated. Baines had been entranced by Ada's passionate music while on the beach. Nothing had stirred his soul to such a degree in years. I believe that initially, he simply wanted more of the same. Ada was speaking from her soul, through her music, and Baines was responding to her passionate core, not merely to her body. After all, when she first appeared on his doorstep, he took no interest.

Baines didn't initially relate musical passion with sexuality, but watching and listening to her play in his home, his libido got the best of him. Bartering is the essential mode of exchange in frontier communities. His offer of keys for "doing certain things" was no different in kind than Stewart's offer of marriage and support for chores, affection, and sex, except that Stewart's kind of offer was sanctioned by the society of the time. Nevertheless, Baines did ultimately see the parallel between his arrangement with Ada and prostitution and withdrew from the bargain, conceding her the piano outright. He truly was after her passionate soul, even if he had been momentarily distracted by the more immediate goal of having her sexually.

Ada: Why did Ada suddenly become mute at age six? From the limited clues provided, we understand her problem to be psychogenic, not physiological. There was no apparent trauma or illness that brought it on. It is tempting to view Ada's muteness as an indication of extreme willfulness. Certainly, it is extreme for one's mind to simply choose to discontinue speaking. The term "will," however, is ambiguous in its connotations. Usually, when we speak of "willful" behavior, we imply conscious, voluntary actions, often premeditated and governed by our highest goals and aspirations. Ada's "willfulness" is of another kind altogether, as she implies when she states what she understands about the cause of her muteness, " Nobody knows why, least of all myself." Ada's "willfulness" is of a subconscious variety and outside of her voluntary influence. The subconscious mind is guided by emotions (passions), rather than reason. Although the film never specifies the cause of her muteness, I would theorize that her passionate womanly pride had decided, irrevocably, that there was no reason for her to speak in a chauvinistic world that did not value or listen to what women had to say. No influence of her conscious mind could negate that subconscious disposition. So, what we know about Ada is that she is extremely willful, but it is a willfulness controlled by her passions, and largely out of the reach of conscious mitigation.

Why did Ada submit to the bargain with Baines? On one level, you could attribute her acceptance of the arrangement to her desperate need for her piano. Most readers would probably not prostitute themselves under most circumstances, but imagine if the alternative was having your tongue cut out. Would you agree to furnish sexual favors in exchange for keeping your tongue? Or, having it magically restored after having it cut out? Ada had sign language to express her thoughts, but her piano was her sole vehicle for expressing her passions. I think, however, that Ada was also responding on another level. She understood that her music was the voice of her soul and that Baines had been moved by that voice. Stewart, by contrast, has no interest in developing sensitivity toward Ada at any level. He didn't mind that she couldn't speak. He had no interest in her ideas, much less her soul. An ability to tune into another person's passionate core is the foundation of romantic love. The fact that Baines was moved enough by Ada's passionate inner self, as expressed through her music, to trade eighty acres for the piano was high complement indeed. The trading of keys might seem like a kind of prostitution, but is also not different in kind from saying, "I will cater to your needs in order to earn your love." Baines was a crude and uneducated man, but, making allowances for that, Ada was beginning to understand that his passionate nature was more akin to her own than was Stewart's. Stewart was so inculcated into the prudery of Victorian society, he was never going to be much fun in bed or a truly sensitive life partner. After the games between Baines and Ada got underway, she was as aroused as was he, though she was shrewd enough to stretch things out long enough to also earn back her piano. Keep in mind that Ada had already had a child out of wedlock, so she was no virgin or prude.

Why did Ada caress Stewart erotically but refuse to submit to him? I'm not sure I can make sense out of Ada's actions in this instance. Was she simply trying to manipulate him into releasing her and Flora from incarceration? Was her libido so elevated that she was hot to trot regardless of who might be at hand? How far was she prepared to go with Stewart, if his own prudery had not prevented him from proceeding? Was she trying to determine if he might he a suitable partner instead of Baines? It's hard to know.

Was Ada sincere when she wrote to Baines that her heart was his? Did she expect Flora to deliver the message to Baines or to go to Stewart instead? My guess is that she intended the message to go to Baines and that she was speaking sincerely, but subsequent events call that into question.

SPOILERS AHEAD. SKIP TO PRODUCTION VALUES TO AVOID.

Why did Ada have the piano thrown overboard? Certainly, that's an unexpected development. The piano was her lifeline to self-expression. She submitted to sexual exploitation (though probably secretly relishing it) to recover the piano, yet now she chucks it overboard. Perhaps it was her way of casting away the evidences of having been bought and sold like a slave or prostitute. Perhaps the piano, in her mind, was the last remaining vestige of being manipulated by men to serve their whims.

Why did Ada impulsively decide to go down with the piano? There is no doubt in my mind that she placed her foot in the coil willfully – at least in the sense of "willful" that applies to Ada, as discussed previously. One reviewer calls it an accident, but clearly it was not, since she later calls her decision to free herself a surprising act of will. Doesn't her choice to commit suicide, however momentary, contradict her statement that her heart belonged to Baines? Here she was, going off with the object of her love, yet she sets off to kill herself. I suppose one could argue that she had still been "turned over" by Stewart to Baines and was thus still in the category of a commodity. Perhaps she felt humiliated by the idea of being attached to her "true love" not by free choice but by consignment. One might also ask whether she gave any thought to Flora's welfare in choosing to die.

Why did Ada decide to free herself from the rope and choose life? Having already chosen death, Ada is no longer with Baines out of obligation. She is liberated and now free to choose for herself or, at least, her subconscious has that freedom. Her passion-driven will opts for life and for life together with Baines. Her conscious mind watches passively and almost incredulously.

Do they live happily ever after? The film would have you believe so, but a person as impulsively willful as Ada, with a will driven by emotions and unresponsive to the oversight of the conscious mind, would self-destruct or destroy others, sooner or later. Baines probably got the raw end of the deal. Ada's father was wise to sell her off and Stewart equally sensible to divest himself of any interest in her. I don't mean to imply that Ada's passion-driven willfulness is any more problematic for a woman than a man.

Flora McGrath: Since Flora is a child, we can't demand as much psychological coherency. She's a work in progress and experimenting with various choices. I don't really consider her choice to inform Stewart about Ada's activities a betrayal. Many reviewers do. In my opinion, Ada and Flora have an odd kind of relationship, not adequately defined as a conventional mother/daughter connection. Flora translates her mother's sign language, which means, first, that the mother is unusually dependent on the daughter and, second, that Flora is often speaking as a mother would speak (in her stead). When Flora observes her mother "misbehaving," she scolds her mother and, when that fails, tattles on her. She probably expects her mother will be admonished or sent to her room and has no idea that adult transgressions are sometimes dealt with more harshly. If there was betrayal between mother and daughter, the betrayal was on Ada's side. She put her daughter at risk repeatedly, exposing the child to her adulterous affair, asking Flora to be a conduit for her forbidden love missive, and, finally, almost opting out of life, threatening to leave a nine-year old alone and stranded in New Zealand. As it is, one has to wonder how happy Flora's life will be, having to be her mother's voice eternally.

Production Values: The cinematography, by Stuart Dryburgh, is cleverly designed to enhance the story. The scenes of strife and hardship are shot in dull browns and grays to reinforce the dreariness. Later, the erotic scenes are given a candlelight glow. I'm not going to describe in detail the memorably violent scene, but it is shot in an unusual manner to give it a kind of surreal quality. The muddy bush setting amidst giant trees and the Maori tribesmen give an exotic aura to the film and make a great contrast with the rigid propriety of Victorian culture. The frequently stormy weather sets the tone for the stormy relationships. There's plenty of variety in the camera angles and techniques, from underwater shots, to aerial shots, shots through gaps in floorboards and wallboards, and intimate shots of lovers at work. There are a couple of places were the story lacks continuity because of either poor editing or script gaps. The soundtrack is magnificent. The piano pieces really are passionate and were actually played by Holly Hunter, a gifted pianist.

There are four strong performances in this film, but the one by Holly Hunter clearly heads the list. She earned the Best Actress trophy at Cannes and followed that with an Oscar. Now, stop and consider that she earned those awards without a single spoken line of dialog (there were just two short voiceover narrative lines, rendered in her voice). She conveys a depth of emotionality with just gestures, facial expressions, and signing that few actresses could achieve with the addition of dialog. Her face is nicely set off in a black bonnet for much of the picture. It's a world-class performance. Hunter's other film work includes roles in Swing Shift (1984), Raising Arizona (1987), Broadcast News (1987), The Firm (1993), Crash (1996), Time Code (2000), O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000), Moonlight Mile (2002), and Thirteen (2003).

The nine-year-old Anna Paquin gave a performance as Flora that I'd rank in the top-ten child performances in film, all-time. She won the Oscar for best supporting actress. She went on to parts in such films as Fly Away Home (1996), She's All That (1999), X-Men (2000), and 25th Hour (2002).. Harvey Keitel had the requisite degree of animal magnetism for his part and Sam Neill gave a nicely balanced performance as Stewart. Harvey Keitel has a long resume that includes Mean Streets (1973), Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore (1974), La Nuit de Varennes (1982), Thelma & Louise (1991), Reservoir Dogs (1992), Pulp Fiction (1994), and much, much more. Sam Neill's work includes My Brilliant Career (1979), Plenty (1985), A Cry in the Dark (1988), Dead Calm (1989), The Hunt for Red October (1990), Until the End of the World (1991), Jurassic Park (1993), Sirens (1993), and The Horse Whisperer (1998).

Bottom-Line: The DVD from Artisan provides a choice between widescreen and standard formats. The film has been digitally remastered and provides sound in Dolby 2.0. The extras are limited to a trailer, production notes, and cast/crew information. This is a wrenching love story with a gothic kind of feel, like something from the Brontë sisters. It's intense, absorbing, and opens lots of opportunities for psychoanalysis of the character motivations. Most of the professional reviews I've come across for this film are highly laudatory, but there are a whole slew of negative reviews at the Internet Movie Database, mostly focusing on script problems. It is very difficult to makes sense of the psychology, for Ada in particular, but this film is worth seeing even if you walk away wondering why she made the choices she did. After all, that's part of why the film will stick with you long after you've seen it.

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age