The Dead

While snow falls outside, a group of Dubliners attends party in turn-of-the-century Ireland.

The Dead was director John Huston’s last film. For him, it was in many ways a labor of love. His son Tony wrote the screenplay, his daughter Angelica plays one of the leads, the film was shot in his beloved Ireland, and it’s adapted from one of his favorite short stories.

Unfortunately, the result is less than stellar. Huston’s son tries for a faithful adaptation, but while the story by Joyce was somewhat contemporary when it was published in 1914, these characters and their behaviors are far less relatable to a modern audience. This desire for a faithful adaptation is further exacerbated by the dreadful voice over at the end, which, while preserving Joyce’s words, reduces the film to little more than a book on tape.

Huston seems tired. He had to know he was dying when he made this, as a bittersweet melancholy seems to permeate the entire film, but unfortunately, the film lacks momentum. For most of the film nothing really happens and the third act payoff, delivered as a monologue by Huston’s daughter, doesn’t justify the previous hour’s investment. Simply, while The Dead does a great job of making the viewer feel as if they too are a guest at the party; it doesn’t give them a reason to stay.