You
may not know her name, but anyone with even a passing interest in art has seen
her face. Viennese socialite Adele Bloch-Bauer was a friend of painter Gustav
Klimt, and in 1907 he introduced oil and gold to canvas in “Portrait of Adele
Bloch-Bauer,” an image that would go on to grace coffee cups and magnets the
world over. But in 1938, the painting fell victim to failed artist Adolf
Hitler’s smash-and-grab across Europe, in which 5 million cultural artifacts
were stolen from libraries, museums, churches, and the homes of Jewish families
like the Bloch-Bauers. Restitution attempts were made
when possible following war’s end, and the delayed return of the Bloch-Bauer
Klimt to its rightful owners is the subject of the unremarkable yet still
occasionally stirring “Woman in Gold.”
The always-welcome Helen Mirren
tries on a clipped Austrian accent to play Adele Bloch-Bauer’s niece Maria Altmann, an expat living in Los Angeles and in need of a
lawyer to claim her birthright, five Klimt paintings currently hanging in the
Austrian national gallery. Enter the wildly-out-of-his-depth Ryan Reynolds as
Randy Schoenberg, a young, struggling lawyer who begins helping Maria,
reluctantly at first, but his enthusiasm escalating as he learns of the
paintings’ value at well over $100 million. The stonewalling Austrian
government has no intention of parting with the famous portrait of Adele,
called “The Mona Lisa of Austria,” and what follows is a tale of heartbreaking
setbacks and tiny victories as Maria and Randy search for a way to reunite
Maria with her beloved aunt.
Part buddy comedy, part Holocaust
movie, part courtroom drama, and all mid-1990’s Miramax Oscar-bait, “Woman In
Gold” hits all the expected beats, with Mirren singlehandedly carrying the film
on her formidable shoulders as the alternately defeated and determined Maria.
The most affecting parts of the film are actually the flashbacks, with the
excellent Tatiana Maslany (“Orphan Black”) as the
younger Maria, fiercely devoted to a family that wants her to escape Austria.
The story of Maria Altmann’s quest for her family’s
Klimts is fascinating and one that’s been told in a few worthy documentaries,
but if you prefer your non-fiction prolonged and outfitted with a manipulative
score, you could do worse than this true tale.
This article appears in Apr 8-14, 2015.
