by Frank Wilkins
Ada Monroe (Nicole Kidman) utters a very appropriate phrase in Cold Mountain that resonates as the theme of the picture. "This war is lost on the battlefields and lost twice over by those left behind." She is speaking of what it must have been like for so many women to lose a loved one to the Civil War. Or more accurately, to lose one's country to the Civil War.

The daughter of an idealistic preacher (Donald Sutherland), Ada is forced to endure the hardships of running a farm single-handedly while waiting for her Inman (Jude Law) to return from the fighting. The couple, only having met briefly before the war, isn't even sure that they love each other. But the hope of holding themselves in each other's arms will mean so much more than being together again. More importantly it will signify that their country will be whole again. That they can once more strive for the American dream of not only surviving, but of prospering.

At its simplest form, Cold Mountain is the journey of a young Civil War Army deserter as he makes his way, on foot, back home to Cold Mountain, North Carolina from a Confederate field hospital. Author Charles Frazier's novel of the same name combines the stories told by his ancestors with Homer's Odyssey to bring Inman's travels through the dangerous countryside to life. But the aspect of the movie that was the most appealing to me, and where I think director Anthony Minghella experienced his biggest success, was his depiction of the everyday townsfolk and the hardships and hopelessness they endured. If the harsh Carolina winters weren't enough to break one's spirit, the prowling gangs of bounty hunters and lawless troublemakers were sure to. What does it mean to a family when the men of the house are called to war? The family loses husbands, sons, fathers, farm hands, providers, and protectors. What're left are women struggling to raise babies, tend farms, provide food and hold out hope for an end to man's deadly entanglement of egos.

While watching Cold Mountain, I couldn't help but find myself sitting there realizing that the movie would eventually end, but that these characters did not know their own outcome. They were surrounded by hopelessness, injustice, death and desperation. Whereas I knew I could leave the theater, they saw no end in sight. Cold Mountain is a dispiriting, downtrodden affair that successfully depicts what made life not worth living during this dark period of American history. And I felt it. I felt every emotion experienced by the characters. I felt what Minghella and Frazier were trying to say.

Law and Kidman were flawless in their depictions of lost souls searching for something to make them whole again. Although Kidman's looks weren't appropriate for her situation – how do you make such a natural beauty look disheveled – her actions were. She accurately captured a young woman's yearning for her man to return home from a senseless atrocity. She sold me on her desperation, especially in one scene depicting her digging in the frozen ground for roots to eat, her bare fingers poking out through tattered gloves.

At first I had a hard time associating Law's physical characteristics and mannerisms with those of a soldier. But his steely stare and polished acting abilities eventually won me over. A fading tintype of Ada he kept in his knapsack, provided the only drive he'd need to inspire his dangerous return from a war in which he didn't believe.

A strong supporting cast including Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Donald Sutherland and Renee Zellweger plays the Southern country folk quite well. The scene-stealing Zellweger is phenomenal as Ruby, the feisty farm gal sent to Ada's plantation to help with the chores. She provides the comic relief needed to round off the corners of this emotionally draining tale. From her first scene in which she rips the head from a chicken and exclaims, "let's throw him in a pot", I was hooked on her character. But not even Ruby's spunk and magnetic charisma could erase the dark pall of war and despair that hung over Minghella's Cold Mountain.

Frank Wilkins