Rating: C+
Following 2013’s “As I Lay Dying,” James Franco’s “The Sound and the Fury” marks his second attempt at adapting William Faulkner for the silver screen. Just like his previous journey into Yoknapatawpha County, “The Sound and the Fury” fails to satisfy Faulkner fans and general filmgoers alike, as the film ultimately proves to be a disappointing and disjointed disarray.
As the headliner for this year’s Oxford Film Festival “The Sound and the Fury” should have been a perfect fit for Faulkner’s favorite stomping ground, but, unfortunately, Franco does not hold a candle to Faulkner’s own artistic ability. While Franco – who directs, writes and performs as Benjamin “Benjy” Compson – is diligent in his approach to Faulkner’s acclaimed classic, the density and complexity of the narrative seem to be too daunting for the filmmaker.
Though Franco should be commended for the attempt, as the narrative styles employed by Faulkner in the novel are exceedingly difficult – if not downright impossible – to translate to a visual medium without losing elements essential to the storytelling.
Even so, the film is not a complete failure, with Franco’s love for Faulkner leading to surprisingly nuanced performances and crisp production values.
“The Sound and the Fury” follows the monumental decline of the Compson family, a formerly aristocratic Southern dynasty with deep roots in Jefferson, Mississippi – a town in Faulkner’s famed and fictional Yoknapatawpha County. Comprised of an overwhelming array of damaged characters, the Compson family struggles with various issues that mostly revolve around Candace “Caddy” (Ahna O’Reilly) and her relationships with her three brothers: Quentin III (Jacob Loeb), Jason IV (Scott Haze) and Benjamin “Benjy” (James Franco).
Mirroring Faulkner’s structure, the film is broken into three distinct segments (with a fourth act loosely following the original structure) that each highlight an individual brother and his relationship with sister Caddy, the most complex character present.
As Caddy, O’Reilly successfully navigates the character’s intricate nature. Her performance is dynamic, nuanced and intuitive, allowing a different aspect of Caddy’s personality to emerge through each brother’s point of view. In Benjy’s segment she is kind and caring; in Quentin’s she is confused and conflicted; and in Jason’s she is broken and morose. O’Reilly and Stella Allen, the actress who plays a young Caddy, are both mesmerizing to watch, with O’Reilly easily turning out the best performance in the film.
While O’Reilly succeeds as Caddy, the three actors who portray her brothers are not as deft in their executions.
Franco’s performance as the mentally handicapped Benjy oftentimes feels unnecessarily excessive. In this role, a less-is-more approach would have been more affecting; the physicality of his performance dominated his scenes in a negative way.
Loeb as Quentin fails to fully bring to life the character’s tormented feelings about his sister and the tension with his father, Jason Compson III (Tim Blake Nelson). When his character arc ends, Loeb’s lackluster performance renders Quentin as forgettable and unimportant.
Haze as Jason IV is the best of the three, as he fully commits to playing a violent, abusive villain. His interactions with Caddy’s bastard daughter, Miss Quentin (Joey King), will have you hating him and rooting for her wholeheartedly.
The three other performances worth mentioning include Loretta Devine as Dilsey, the matriarch of the African-American family employed by the Compsons; Joey King as Caddy’s wild, flighty daughter Miss Quentin; and Tim Blake Nelson as the Compson patriarch Jason III.
As Jason III, Nelson affects a richly textured southern accent, the only one in the film that sounds truly authentic. True to the alcoholism that his character eventually succumbs to, Nelson’s eyes are unsettlingly dead and glossy, with his facial movements revealing a tired and stricken man. Although he is given little screen-time, Nelson’s performance is bested only by O’Reilly’s Caddy.
The various child actors ranged from bad to good, with Stella Allen as young Caddy, Jacob Skirtech as young Benjy, and Kylen Davis as Luster (Dilsey’s grandson) demonstrating true raw talent.
While the performances were largely hit-or-miss in “The Sound and the Fury,” the production values culminated in an aesthetically pleasing cinematic experience. Bruce Cheung’s cinematography, Kristen Adam’s production design, and Caroline Eselin’s costume design create a sun-dappled, vintage-hued, dusty and decaying Southern atmosphere that is perhaps the largest saving grace of the film. Collectively they manage to fully capture the nostalgic visual elements of Faulkner’s story.
Overall, “The Sound and the Fury” suffers not from the acting or technical execution but from the screenplay and direction. While James Franco and co-writer Matt Rager managed to pinpoint some of the most pivotal moments from Faulkner’s narrative, the pace of the film still lacks coherence. There are entire scenes that feel unexplained and out of place. With so many scenes shifting abruptly and drastically, the audience can never become fully invested in the story.
This unfortunate quality of the film is a testament to the fact that sometimes literature cannot easily translate to film. The screenplay could have been tightened in favor of a more streamlined story, which would have made for a much more enjoyable experience, but at the expense of some of Faulkner’s hallmarks – a few of which Franco did manage to retain.
Yes, Franco could have made a better film, but would it still feel anything like Faulkner’s world? Probably not.
When it comes down to it, “The Sound and the Fury” proves that great literature does not always mean the story will make for a great film, and sometimes, it shouldn’t even be tried.