In a blurred picture from someone's memory, we see a boy and a girl run down the beach laughing and holding hands. It is a picture of childlike joy, discovery, and innocence. But as the picture comes into focus, so does the dilemma at the heart of Snow Falling on Cedars. Here is a young American boy holding hands with a Japanese girl while World War II looms on the horizon. And it's not just the parents who will intervene to disrupt their young love...history itself will march in and pry them apart, causing damage that will influence the rest of their lives dramatically. 

Scott Hicks' adaptation of the marvelous historical mystery by David Guterson is remarkably true to the book, considering that the novel leans heavily on the introspection of its characters to tell its story. While structured as an intense courtroom drama, the larger story is told in tangents as we enter the heads of those entangled in the whodunit. Through their memories and their fears, we learn that this is much more than a murder mystery. It is a lament of life's unfairness, a portrait of obsession, and an exploration of how grace and forgiveness is the only hope for relief from paralyzing and dehabilitating grudges. On an island just off the coast of Washington, an expert fisherman has drowned, and foul play is suspected. A Japanese man who was the last to see the fisherman is brought in on suspicion of murder, and the key to his conviction or acquittal lies in the hands of the man who pledged undying love to the wife of the accused.  What transpires will test these characters' ability to forgive and forget, and it will reveal just how much "fairness" can cost.

Hicks' is blessed with an excellent cast, and his work with them is admirably restrained; there are a few scenes of high drama, and the actors must make introspection interesting.   James Cromwell brings gravity and sincerity to his role as the judge (How refreshing! A judge that isn't in some way tangled up in the secrets behind the case!) Youki Kudoh is marvelous as Hatsue, a girl torn between a sense of tradition and her politically-incorrect love for a "white boy". Her face is a wonderful canvas for warring emotions as she attempts to bury the turbulent past under the mannered demeanor of a traditional Japanese woman.  Rick Yune as Kazuo, the man Hatsue marries, maintains his composure while the story gives us glimpses of the anger and fear that he hides. James Rebhorn, who has played hardnosed prosecuting attorneys too often (TV's Law and Order), is nevertheless effectively wicked without overplaying the part.  Max Von Sydow has a small but crucial part as the defense attorney; every time he's on screen he brings much-needed energy and life to the proceedings.

But the movie depends most upon Ethan Hawke's performance. Hawke plays Ishmael Chambers, the journalist torn between his responsibility to tell the truth and his resentment toward the woman who left him behind. Sam Shepard is the ghost of Arthur his father, haunting Ishmael wherever he goes with an example of integrity and responsibility. Hawke is very effective for the film's first half, gazing wistfully off into the memories that plague him. But after a while, the angst becomes redundant and tiresome, and I found myself longing for him to shout or to act, to acquaint us with his personality, not just his history.  Flashbacks become a tedious device, echoing key voices from his past too redundantly, as though the screenwriter distrusted the audience to remember the importance of prominent lines. By the end, he just looks bored, and so does a good portion of the audience watching him. 

Now, to be fair, it is true that many will find this movie boring, because many will have come to see a murder mystery... a thrilling tangle of clues leading up to an exhilarating conclusion. This is not that kind of mystery. The characters speak very little, but their actions, their memories, and their silences speak ever so much more. While many critics are complaining about the slow pace and the melancholy of the film, I found that its slowness demanded that I get involved, that I think through what is going on between the lines, behind the scenes, inside the heads of those in the courtroom. Hicks could have found ways to make the film more engaging in spite of its lack of action; Michael Mann's The Insider was three hours long and it felt like an action movie in spite of the fact that it was built out of long and intense conversations.  But for the most part, the pacing works to the film's advantage.  Sometimes it's refreshing to have to chew on a movie instead of just swallowing what we're fed.

Certainly not a movie for the impatient, Cedars demands that you surrender your concerns about the murder mystery at stake and instead consider just how much influence history, both personal and political, has over our perceptions of those close to us. When the day of judgment for the accused finally comes, flashbacks have brought us to see everyone in that courtroom a little differently. Now we're as concerned about a silent but meaningful glance between two individuals as we are what the witnesses on the stand have to say. 

I was fortunate enough to read Guterson's excellent book when it first came out, before it became an over-hyped bestseller. The film doesn't stand a chance of revealing the intricacies of the book. But it does powerfully re-create the history, capture the essence of Guterson's characters, and carry us through hypnotized by Robert Richardson's artful, breathtaking cinematography. And how many films challenge us to think about the virtues of NOT getting what we want? In the year of American Beauty, Snow Falling on Cedars is a still small voice prompting us to a higher love than self-love. Kudos to Scott Hicks for bringing the story to a different kind of audience. Just remember to grab a good cup of coffee before you take a seat; that way you won't run the risk of being lulled to sleep by the combined beauty and power of the snow, the trees, and silence.

Jeffrey Overstreet