Picasso had his Blue Period. Rufus had his Content Period in the late 90’s and some of my favorite work happened during those Halcyon years. I love this picture for the calm self assurance he brings to its canvas. Such an emotional actor is necessarily affected by the direction of his life, no matter how he struggles for something different. And if I’m to judge by his work at this time, he must have been very happy because it is centered as it never was before and though his considerable skill has grown, it has not been since.  

I love this picture. I didn’t always love this picture. In fact the first time I watched it, I couldn’t quite understand all the fuss. But it grew on me. Especially after I was able to skip through what I think is the tedious introduction of Evelyn and Phillip and how they’ve come to be in Papua New Guinea. The film would have been tighter and more interesting with Evelyn and Mick coming into focus sooner--less exposition would have accomplished this. Rufus and Maya Stange are the real story here and the plot meanders along taking it’s time with superfluous and repetitious bits of trivia before finally getting on to them.  

As much as I like Maya Stange, and I do like her very much, a more accomplished actress might have taken us down the path of Evelyn’s self discovery and her growing attachment to Mick who embraces her independence from his exposure to the island women. Instead it seems as if Evelyn married a stranger rather than the emergence we are meant see play out in parallel to her deepening understanding of the island culture. That Phillip will never accept his wife’s new found independence should be obvious even to the chronically unobservant. He is a man doomed to repeat his failures and realizes too late what he has taken completely for granted. 

But the lovely chemistry between these two actors who genuinely seem to enjoy each other more than makes up for any weakness in the sometimes soapy story. A small scene in the jungle where a drenched and stripped down Mick blows on the blisters on Evelyn’s palm fairly crackles with longing. Dancing to the Beguine though poorly edited (note to director: why edit? What could you have been thinking?) brings a tender encapsulation to their budding relationship. And the joyful little sex scene is one of Rufus’ best. For once he doesn’t seem uncomfortable or indifferent getting naked with his co-star. And uniquely and sweetly for modern cinema, it almost seems to not have gone far enough. 

If you can find it, view it—more than once. Without the burden of the meandering beginning and the overdone end, it’s worth the effort.

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