“The Age of Innocence” (1993)

The Age of Innocence

Grade: A-

Filmmaker Martin Scorsese, of Goodfellas, Raging Bull and Taxi Driver fame, once said that his 1993 adaptation of Edith Wharton’s upper-class romance novel, The Age of Innocence, was his “most violent [film].” Obviously, that statement is not meant to be taken literally: measured in liters of blood, The Age of Innocence is a far cry from the mobster mean streets. But when measured in emotional devastation and high-society snobbery — as an exploration of unconsummated desire and sexual suppression — The Age of Innocence is as ruthless as Joe Pesci squeezing someone’s head in a vice until their eyes bulge out. In other words, it’s a Scorsese film through and through, right down to the voiceover narration, the New York City setting and the camera that won’t stay still. The only difference is in aesthetics.

Owing to the unique style, The Age of Innocence easily becomes Scorsese’s most beautiful and painterly film; his Barry Lyndon, if you will. Telling the story of a love triangle between wealthy aristocrats in 1870s NYC, the film revels in detailed décor and expensive tastes. Yet no matter how tantalizing the lifestyle seems, it’s so far removed from the rest of the world that it becomes just as inclusive and ignoble as the mafia. At its core, The Age of Innocence is a thought-provoking parable about romanticizing the past, driven home by the brilliant, subtly devastating, time-skip ending: Newland Archer (Daniel Day-Lewis) broke the rules of the game and got to live the rest of his life as a schnook. In this case, a loving, wealthy family with the wrong girl is just as bad as being an average nobody in witness protection.