The narrative opens in the year 1327, as William of Baskerville (Sean Connery) and his teenage novice/apprentice Adso (Christian Slater) sojourn to a Benedictine monastery in the Alpine foothills that is hosting a doctrinal debate regarding the proper disposition of the Catholic Church's wealth. Reputation of William's deductive prowess proceeds him, and the monastery's Abbot (Michael Lonsdale) entreats his discreet assistance regarding the inexplicable discovery of a young monk's broken body. The Abbot is hopeful that William can draw some conclusion before he's forced to hand the matter over to the approved channels, i.e. the Inquisition.
As William proceeds to investigate, more members of the local brethren meet with violent ends. The common thread between the victims is their employ as translators within the abbey's impressive library. Adso's efforts to aid his master's sleuthing lead him to an impromptu seduction by a beautiful, mute local peasant girl (Valentina Vargas). William's quest to uncover killer and motive becomes ever more urgent, and not merely to quell the slaughter. The deaths have incurred the summoning of the remorseless High Inquisitor Bernardo Gui (F. Murray Abraham), who would be all too content to pin the goings-on upon some blameless scapegoat purportedly within Satan's thrall--such as Adso's new love. In mounting his production, Annaud affected a deliberate dreariness that effectively evoked an era before enlightenment, but probably did little to entice American filmgoers upon The Name Of The Rose's release. Cinematographer Tonino Delli Colli employed a consistently dark palate, and the painstakingly created, minimally lit monastery set created an unrelieved air of foreboding. Authenticity was striven for down to the fabric of the monks' robes. The oppressive feel and grim subject matter may not have stoked mass appeal, but the film remains intelligently wrought and worthy of revisit.
As expected, Connery shouldered his load admirably, engagingly portraying a man whose life is a struggle to serve both faith and reason, harboring unspoken guilt about past deeds committed in the Church's name, and bearing affection wrapped in a stern demeanor for his young charge. Slater, barely sixteen when he took on this first major film assignment, acquitted himself well as the callow but loyal protégé. In choosing the supporting players, Annaud opted to populate his monastery with arrestingly distinctive faces, and one can almost sense that the casting director had a coffee-table book of Brueghel as a reference. Ron Perlman, William Hickey, Feodor Chaliapin Jr. and Elya Baskin are among those providing the most flavorful efforts.
Warner provided a most worthwhile extras package for the DVD release of The Name Of The Rose. Annaud provided enthusiastic participation in both the feature-length commentary track and a sixteen-minute "Photo Video Journey" comprised of interview footage complemented by clips, production drawings and stills. His recollection ranges from his collaboration with Eco to visualize the monastery's labyrinthine library to how the seduction sequence was sprung on the young Slater, and it's all intriguing stuff. Another unusual addition is The Abbey of Crime, a 43-minute on-set documentary produced for German television that offers much rare footage of the cast and crew at work. The theatrical trailer completes the added material.
For more information about The Name of the Rose, visit Warner Video. To order The Name of the Rose, go to TCM Shopping.
by Jay S. Steinberg
