It's been almost a month since I saw the film, and at least a week or two since I last read this thread. I've been thinking about my reponse off and on, and now I guess it's about time I chipped in my two-cents.
I read the book when it became available at the public library (i.e., well after it had become a best-seller), and did not particularly enjoy it. The various horrendous events were just *so* overwhelming that I felt that, as a reader, I was being manipulated. That melodramatic quality, coupled with the romantic aspect of the story, made me regard the whole enterprise as a bit of a soap opera -- "Bridges of Madison County" for history buffs. I suppose I just couldn't manage the necessary suspension of disbelief that any work of art requires.
To me, the movie worked better than the book because both the horrible battle scenes and the lyrical/sentimental scenes were right up in my face. I had less choice about whether I wanted to take them seriously -- I had to go along with the author's (and the director's) intentions.
I liked the music well enough, although I expected more (or more prominent) music. I was most impressed by the "Sacred Harp" hymn singing -- I have heard *about* this particular genre for years, but never actually heard the singing. As far as I'm concerned, it was great, a real revelation. Anyone who criticizes it because they've heard better . . . well, I envy you for what you've been able to listen to.
I think the criticism that Nicole was/is "too beautiful" for the part is ridiculous.
First of all, does anyone seiously believe that humans are better-looking today than a mere century-and-a-half ago? There may have been a lot of cultural and technological changes in the intervening years, but there can hardly have been any significant physical evolution of the human race. Some of us are better looking than others, of course, both now and then -- and of course fashions have changed -- but any face anyone can possibly have been born with in 1950 or 1960 could as easily have appeared on a person born in 1800 or 1500 or 20 BC or whenever.
Also: Her character was a privileged young white woman from the city of Charleston. She never had to do a lick of work, put her hands into hot dishwater, or even venture into the sun without a parasol. They had slaves to do everything for them. *Nobody* in the world today is as pampered as were girls like her, so it is historically correct for her to appear absolutely ethereal, especially when she first appears.
As the film progresses, Ada undergoes some hardships and also becomes more competant at taking care of business for herself, and I think Kidman (along with her makeup people, etc.) does a brilliant job of portraying the changes. She really exudes a different kind of beauty at the end of the film than in the beginning, radiating a healthier and more self-confident aura than the pale porcelain doll we see at first.
One last observation: I read in my American history books about "the carpetbaggers and the scalawags," but I never really understood the scalawag phenomenon a well as I do now, after seeing the "Home Guard" villains as portrayed in this film. (I suppose I *should* have gotten it from the book, but as mentioned above, I had problems getting myself fully involved in the book.)
Hmmm -- guys who avoid the risk and dirty work of actually serving as soldiers, but who make damn sure that other poor suckers do their duty while at the same time profiteering and living off the suffering of their fellow citizens. I suppose there's nothing new under the sun, and politicians taday aren't really doing anything that hasn't been done before.