The Scarlet Letter

Tucson Weekly

DIRECTED BY: Roland Joffe

REVIEWED: 10-19-95

When the opening credits state the film is "freely adapted" from the novel, they aren't kidding. The filmmakers have taken an American literature classic and turned it into a plainly idiotic bodice-ripper that pits small-town intolerance against Hester Prynne's fiercely independent feminist sexuality. This is the second film of the year in which a woman's love is signaled by a little bird that leads the way (the other is How to Make an American Quilt). The bird leads Prynne (Demi Moore, as superficial as ever) into the arms of Gary Oldman, a minister who swims naked so as to expose his buttocks to God and anybody else who might be watching. You can bet that when the time comes for nooses to be tied around the lovers' necks, a bunch of Indians will pop out to save the day. Maybe this movie's creators should be forced to wear a big letter "A" around Hollywood--for the sin of asinine adaptation.

--Zachary Woodruff

Other Films by Roland Joffe
Goodbye Lover

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