Jane Campion’s 1993 film “The Piano”, which was re-released in selected theaters in South Korea a few weeks ago, is still an extraordinary female drama to mesmerize and then haunt you for a long time. Mainly revolving around its rather enigmatic but strong-willed heroine, the movie works as a sensitive and compelling tale of human emotions, and it is surely one of the high points in Campion’s remarkable filmmaking career.

After the prologue part which gives us a few bits of background information on its heroine, the story begins with her arrival at a remote region of New Zealand around the mid-19th century. Her name is Ada McGrath (Holly Hunter), and she comes from Scotland to this remote area for marrying a local father named Alisdair Stewart (Sam Neil). We are told that she somehow became mute during her early years, and she often depends on her young little daughter Flora (Anna Paquin), who translates her sign language for the communication with others around her.   

Right from their arrival on the beach near to Alisdair’s place, things do not look that good for Ada and Flora to say the least. They have to spend the following night alone together before Alisdair, his neighbor George Baines (Harvey Keitel), and several local indigenous people to carry their luggage eventually come on the next day. When Ada later requests that her piano also should be carried to his house, Alisdair callously ignores her request, and Ada becomes quite exasperated and frustrated, because the piano is the only tool for expressing herself besides writing and sign language.

As time goes by, it becomes apparent to us that Alisdair simply regards Ada as someone to put beside himself. Their following marriage ceremony is perfunctory at best and miserable at worst, and he does not show any affection or considerable to her at all. As a matter of fact, he does not hesitate at all when Baines offers a piece of good land in exchange for Ada’s piano, which is still left on the beach.

When Ada is subsequently sent to him for teaching him how to play piano, it gradually turns out that Baines is more interested in some other thing than learning how to play piano. While looking coarser even compared to Alisdair in many aspects, Baines turns out to be a lot more sensitive dude than expected, and he has an offer Ada cannot easily refuse. He tentatively approaches to her step by step (or key by key, shall we say), and we accordingly get a series of small but sensual moments as these two very different figures open themselves more to each other in one way or another.

Now this looks like your average pulpy romance tale, but the movie fills the story and characters with a lot vivid realistic details to engage us more. Campion and cinematographer Stuart Dryburgh did an impressive job of imbuing the screen with a palpable sense of life, and we are gradually immersed into the specific period background inhabited by the characters in the story. We initially wince more than once as observing all those moody and muddy moments unfolded on the screen, but our eyes are drawn more to the considerable realism behind these moments, while our minds are more attentive to the emerging emotional undercurrents around its main characters.   

Campion’s Oscar-winning screenplay alternatively surprises and touches us as these main characters show more complex human qualities along the story. Although she seemed to be mostly aloof and distant at first, Ada comes to show more sensitivity, passion, and determination as she silently follows what her heart desires, and there is an achingly poignant moment when she somehow shows a bit of defiance despite her body and mind being cruelly by her husband later in the story. While Baines and Alisdair turn out to be more than two mere opposing figures surrounding Ada, Ada’s daughter is not a passive bystander at all, and she often functions as another crucial element in the story – especially when she makes an impulsive decision which leads to a much more devastating consequence than she could imagine.

All of the four principal performers in the film are unforgettable in their respective strong performances. Holly Hunter, who deservedly received the Best Actress award at the Cannes Festival (The movie also garnered the Palme d’Or award, by the way) and then a Best Actress Oscar, is utterly superlative as subtly brimming with quiet emotional intensity, and she is also ably supported by the three other performers surrounding her. Despite his rather strained accent, Harvey Keitel clicks well with Hunter during several intimate scenes between them, and Sam Neil, who would become more recognizable to us thanks to not only this movie but also Steven Spielberg’s “Jurassic Park” (1993), is also effective as his unlikable character comes to show his own misery and despair. In case of Anna Paquin, who rightfully won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar, she did much more than holding her own place among her adult co-stars, and it is a shame that she has seldom surpassed her indelible achievement here in this film, though she has had a fairly respectable acting career during last three decades.  

Overall, “The Piano” is a sublime piece of work to be appreciated for many good reasons including mood, performance, and storytelling. Although her career seemed to go down a bit since “The Piano” came out, Campion recently made a triumphant comeback with “The Power of the Dog” (2021), which incidentally garnered her a Best Director Oscar. Since this another high point of her career, she remains rather inactive during last several years, but I sincerely hope that she will continue to impress us more as one of the best female filmmakers of our time.