Casting is totally off. Charles Bovary is supposed to be a large, good-natured, undemanding drudge of a man, hard-working and country bumpkin-ish without any slim, well-tailored glamour. Instead we get this svelte, firm, and resolute executive type with patent-leather hair. (Don't know if he ever did it, but the young Gerard Depardieu is the perfect physical type.) This is important because her spouse's rustic dullness as she perceives it has to be seen in the actor chosen. The Emma character has no obvious allure in this adaptation. Why are these men so attracted to her beyond an impression that she'd be "easy"?
The whole plot involving Leon's legitimate reasons for visiting the house is mangled, as is the genesis of the attempt by Charles to correct Hippolyte's medical issue and the surgery's outcome. Boneheaded decisions abound, such as the decision to change the sumptuous, romantic ball that quickened Emma's economic and sensual envy into a grubby, sweaty stag hunt. Worst of all its many bad decisions, this film totally eliminates the Bovarys' baby daughter Berthe, whose existence is essential to our understanding of how huge the final tragedy really is and its domino effects far beyond Emma and Charles.
I rarely write reviews but, when such violence is done to one of the great works of world literature, I do get annoyed. Apart from a bit of recognition for production values including cinematography, sets, location detail, costumes, I have to give this sloppy, bloodless and point-missing attempt the welcome it deserves.
