‘Cold Heaven’ a Ponderous Effort From Director Roeg

If movies existed solely on mood, Nicolas Roeg would be a master. At his best, in the 1973 “Don’t Look Now,” he brought to Daphne du Maurier’s pulp Gothic novel an elliptical, languorous cool that seemed specifically modern. Roeg used to be a master cinematographer--he shot “Far From the Madding Crowd” and was chief second-unit cameraman on “Lawrence of Arabia.”

As a director, though, he’s still thinking like a cinematographer. His recent movies, with the glorious exception of “The Witches,” are for the most part elaborate visual arias without much of a tune.

You can see why Roeg was attracted to Brian Moore’s novel “Cold Heaven” (at the Hillcrest Cinemas) for his new film. The material is layered with portentousness.

Vacationing in Mexico, Dr. Alex Davenport (Mark Harmon) is apparently killed in a boating accident in full view of his wife, Marie (Theresa Russell). She’s been waiting for the opportunity to ditch her husband and regroup with her lover (James Russo), another L.A. doctor who is also primed to walk out on his spouse (Julie Carmen.)

However, when her wish is granted, she’s overcome with guilt and a particularly Catholic sense of dread. She visits a priest (Richard Bradford) and recounts a recurring religious vision that is plaguing her.

Marie’s torment is supposed to have iconographic power. The possibility that her husband may still be alive accelerates her progress from guilt to redemption. But this scenario can only work if the actress playing Marie has a rich inner life--a spirituality. Russell always appears to be impersonating an actress, and, although her one-step-removed haughtiness can be enjoyably camp, it’s disastrous for this movie. In “Cold Heaven,” Roeg is trying to use Russell as both a two-dimensional, stained-glass image of suffering and a full-bodied, three-dimensional actress. He succeeds at neither.

“Cold Heaven” (rated R for language and sensuality) bears a slight resemblance to Michael Tolkin’s religious shocker “The Rapture,” but it doesn’t have that film’s relentless logic or simplicity. It’s ponderous without having much weight; we keep expecting the story to fill out, to achieve a vision that matches Marie’s. But the big storm-tossed finale comes across like cut-rate De Mille. This is a “religious” movie without much religious feeling.

Roeg manages to work up a queasy atmosphere of impending dread in the boating scenes and the scenes between Marie and another priest (Will Patton) who keys into her visions. He always gives you something to look at so that the eye--if not the mind--is never bored. But he doesn’t have a rhythmic film sense; his images are like scintillating shards without pattern or purpose. It’s possible that Roeg, like Antonioni before him, is trying to develop a new film technique based on mood and an almost subliminal suggestiveness. He’s been at it a long time, though, and the results have been such stinko classics as “Eureka,” “Insignificance” and “Castaway.” Roeg himself is a castaway visionary--a castaway in desperate need of a towline.

‘Cold Heaven’

Theresa Russell: Marie Davenport

Mark Harmon: Dr. Alex Davenport

James Russo: Daniel Corvin

A Hemdale Films presentation. Director Nicolas Roeg. Producers Allan Scott and Jonathan D. Crane. Executive producer Jack Schwartzman. Screenplay by Allan Scott. Cinematographer Francis Kenny. Editor Tony Lawson. Costumes Del Adey-Jones. Music Stanley Meyers. Production design Steve Legler. Art director Nina Ruscio. Running time: 1 hour, 43 minutes.

MPAA-rated R (language and sensuality.)