Mark Reviews Movies: AMMONITE

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Review by Mark Dujsik | November 12, 2020

A shallow biography and a hollow romance combine in Ammonite, the story of paleontologist Mary Anning and a seemingly speculative account of her affair with the wife of a fellow scientist. In writer/director Francis Lee's attempt to show the strength of these women in the forging of a secretive bond, the movie dismisses the notion that each of them could be and is strong enough on her own.

There's an unfortunate downplaying of these characters—not to mention the real people and their accomplishments—in this interpretation of the relationship between Anning and Charlotte Murchison, who were long-time friends in reality. Anning was sort of revolutionary in her time. She discovered the fossils of prehistoric creatures (including new and nearly complete specimens) in her hometown of Lyme Regis, where she was born and died. In the 1800s, though, she was denied official acceptance and recognition because of her gender, although, as depicted in this movie, she was regularly consulted by other scientists because of her expertise.

Murchison—who, despite her depiction in Lee's account as a young and naïve ingénue of sorts, was actually older than Anning—learned much from both her friend and her geologist husband, with whom she regularly traveled. She became a scientist and artist in her own right, although one imagines Murchison faced the same kind of easy dismissal as her friend and contemporary.

One will have to look elsewhere for that story—about two women, strong and intelligent, forming a bond over their devotion to science and perhaps sharing in the same feelings of being overlooked. In Lee's view, Anning is miserable, antisocial, bitter, and unkind. Murchison is also miserable, although that's because she's in a loveless marriage, joined to a man who treats her as a helpless child (The basics of her biography suggest an entirely different relationship, but for this story, it at least fits), and it's suggested she has suffered a significant loss (The hints are pretty strong that she had a miscarriage or a child died, but it's never specified in any way).

Where's the strength, though? Where's the intelligence or, for that matter, any discussion of something other than misery or how they generally feel for one another? Where's the actual bond, beyond looks of barely-hidden longing and the eventual consummation of the romantic feelings between these women? Lee doesn't treat these characters as people. They're simply figures—suggesting something deeper, displaying only the extremes of the gloom of their lives and the euphoria of their passion for one another, saying and showing nothing beyond those states of mood—in a kind of restrained melodrama of clandestine romance.

Mary here is played by Kate Winslet, who lives with her mother Molly (Gemma Jones) and runs a shop, where she sells fossils that she discovers along the nearby beach. Nothing has come of whatever fame and/or success she could have had, so Mary lives a quiet, lonely life, while her findings sit in a museum.

That's when Roderick Murchison (James McArdle), portrayed as an absent-minded and insensitive dope, arrives with his wife Charlotte, played by Saoirse Ronan. The husband asks and pays for Mary to show him her process of finding and identifying fossils, while Charlotte, on doctor's orders, is meant to recover from her "melancholia" with some fresh sea air. Soon after, Roderick leaves on another expedition and asks that Mary care for his wife while he's away.

As long as one senses the sexual tension between the two (Other than the dreary scenery of the cloudy town and beach, there's barely anything else to notice), the rest of the story proceeds quite predictably. Mary and Charlotte, who comes to live with the paleontologist after developing a fever, stare at each other when the other isn't looking. The gazes of the two eventually start meeting.

The emotionally withdrawn and defensive Mary becomes jealous as Charlotte's mood becomes better (Elizabeth Philpot, a fellow paleontologist and Mary's former lover played by Fiona Shaw, suggests and then explains Mary's tendency to push people away). Charlotte lets Mary know that the unspoken feelings are mutual.

Winslet and Ronan's performances are, perhaps, too good for such empty material. They play these characters and their respective attitudes—Mary's tight grasp on her emotions, as well as attempts to control any given situation, and Charlotte's despondency-turned-confidence—as if there is some inner life to these characters. We get hints, of course, such as Mary's rationale for remaining single and childless (She watched multiple siblings die and saw the effect on her mother), but Lee is primarily and, then, exclusively concerned with the feeling of forbidden romance—not the reality of any kind of genuine love between these characters.

In the end, the whole thing feels like a disservice, not only to the real people, but also to the potential that exists within these characters. Ammonite dismisses the notions of reality and any sort of real drama, latching on to mood in the hope that it'll carry this story. As a result, the movie doesn't have much of a story to tell.

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