SEVEN VEILS – Review by Lynn Venhaus

It’s rather fitting that a contemporary movie tackles a controversial Biblical opera, with its shocking and erotic elements, as an exploration of female roles in the arts, workplace, relationships, and families.

Atom Egoyan’s 2023 film, Seven Veils, which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival that year but is now only receiving a wide release (March 7), has a lot to say about female agency, appropriation and how unaddressed trauma will always rear its head in later situations.

In fact, one can argue, too much to say, while it blends a live opera production with multiple backstories. Because of its messy structure, some of the major points aren’t as impactful as they should be, but if viewed as a starting point, a welcome conversation.

Think of it as a sad ballad. If you’re familiar with Egoyan’s storytelling, you’ll understand the many layers it features while slowly revealing the director’s intentions. Oscar-nominated for directing The Sweet Hereafter in 1997, in recent years, Egoyan has been helming operas in Toronto.

Egoyan, who wrote the screenplay, has directed Salome for the Canadian Opera Company, which is shown in detail during the film, using the same performers. That gives it authenticity, although the story’s crowded layers may be hard for people to follow.

Amanda Seyfried is hypnotic as Jeanine, an artist known for theatrical productions, who is tasked with directing her first grand-scale opera. She was greenlighted because she was mentored by an opera legend, only known as “Charles,” who has died, and his wife Beatrice (Lanette Ware), now in charge, wants to honor her late husband by remounting Salome, which caused quite a stir when he directed it many years ago. If that already sounds complicated, it is.

She previously worked with Egoyan in his biggest moneymaker, the 2009 erotic thriller Chloe. Seyfried, who gained notice in Mean Girls and as Sophie in Mamma Mia!, has come a long way since her ingenue days.

As background, Salome, the opera by Richard Strauss, was finally performed in 1905, and at the time had been deemed too explicit, so it had an erratic start at major venues. It was known for the Dance of the Seven Veils, and frequently professional dancers would be used for the dance instead of the opera singer.

The libretto by Hedwig Lachmann is a German translation of the 1891 French play by Oscar Wilde. Composer Mychael Danna has done a masterful job here with the music.

Real opera singer Ambur Braid, a dramatic soprano, plays the character Ambur, who is performing Salome. Her character previously performed in a controversial production in Stuttgart, and she is teamed again with Johann (Mark Kupfer-Radecky), who plays the prophet John the Baptist.

Jeanine gets unsettling vibes right away from Johann, and that instinct is correct, for he eventually makes a pass on Clea (Rebecca Lilliard), the prop master who is preparing his facial cast to make a fake head for use after the beheading. (Not to be too graphic, but it must be dripping with blood so that Salome is stained as she kisses the dead head.)

In a subplot, Clea has captured the attack on her cellphone, for the company requested that she video her process as a record of what all went into this detail. When she comes forward, and wants some action, sadly she is rebuked.

Feeling defeated, she looks to her girlfriend Rachel (Vinessa Antoine), who happens to be Ambur’s understudy, for comfort. (See how complicated this becomes?)

While there are consequences to be dealt with because of that incident, there is another muddled subplot with the John the Baptist understudy (Douglas Smith), who knew Jeanine in school. The intimacy coordinator may have sensed an uncomfortable exchange while Jeanine was giving him stage instructions, so there is that too.

However, the main issue is Jeanine’s repressed childhood trauma that her late mentor (and obvious lover) appropriated for his production that now informs her view in the “small but meaningful” changes she planned to make.

Opera management is nervous, while the cast, and the arrogant conductor, seem casually dismissive of Jeanine every time she asserts herself as being in charge. (Sound familiar?)

It’s apparent Jeanine is unraveling while trying to be an assured, composed professional. The flashbacks show her father being weird in his instructions while he forces his young daughter (Elizabeth Reeve) to dance, and wear a blindfold in the woods, filming it, because, he says “when one sense is taken away, the others are heightened.”

It’s obvious she was abused as a child, and her mother ignored it, describing Jeanine’s father as loving his daughter “too much.” Now in the early stages of dementia, her mom has a caregiver, Dimitra (Maia Jae Bastidas).

Jeanine, who has a daughter with her distracted husband (Mark O’Brien), is living away while working, and maintains video chats with the family. In a private conversation, the couple discuss their trial separation.

This is all preying on Jeanine’s mind while she has an inner dialogue speaking to her Charles, discussing their torrid romance. Charles is never seen, but his presence looms large.

The film, in its 1 hour, 47 minutes runtime, loses its way because of the disjointed narrative. But what it has to say about exploiting women are points well-taken. Because it also explores ghosts of the past and how trauma influences adult behavior, it has an intriguing, haunted quality.

Egoyan knows every artist uses personal experience to shape them and guide their career paths, so this aspect offers an interesting perspective. Jeanine has been taken advantage by all the men in her life – her father, husband, boss and other actors. Will that continue to affect her? Unfortunately, we’ll never know because opening night is as far as we get.