You'd never know from this stifling, woodenly acted, tritely written biopic what an electrifying and singular woman Alma Schindler, by all accounts, really was. As portrayed by Sara Wynter, she's got the allure of a dishrag and may as well have "Serial Victim" stamped across her forehead, her complex life story reduced to a series of oversimplified episodes (Girl Meets Artist, Artist Falls for Girl, Artist Turns Out to Be a Self-Absorbed Jerk, and Girl Meets Another Artist). Not only do you get no sense of what a great composer, architect, sculptor and writer ever saw in her, you don't get much of a sense of what she could have possibly seen in any of them. The movie makes the 22-year-old Alma look either cynically opportunistic or oblivious to find anything attractive about this movie's smug, devitalized old-fogy Gustav Mahler (who could never have written the amazing symphonies the real Mahler composed). Walter Gropius, et al. don't fare much better. Something that looks as though it was made for--and rejected by-- Lifetime Network, despite pretty cinematography, sets and costumes. As a then- member of the Gustav Mahler Society of New York, I attended a free pre-release screening in spring 2001--and still wanted my money back!

Alma Mahler is one of impressive legends of Mitteleuropa. To describe her life is an Utopian endeavor. Her power, art of seduction, fights and ambitions, her relationship with flower of Austrian culture, the American experience and his prestige are parts of unique existence without any explanation.In this film, Alma is only a character. Oversimplified, mosaic of clichés, image in a steamed mirror. It is only a hasty sketch, message less, artificial, in who the charm of Sarah Wynter is unique trap for spectator. It is not, at least, a cogent disappointed.The Jonathan Pryce acting is interesting but irrelevant. The atmosphere is only illusion of a gorgeous period. And the story falls in abyss. Alma Mahler is more that a beautiful doll. She is a magnificent legend of a amber time.

The story of a pioneering, cold and fickle groupie, this movie is one to avoid. Vienna 1902-1919. A good setting for any movie -- it's doubtful that the moviegoer is more familiar with any other period of twentieth century (we have countless monographs, full-scale biographies, novels, histories, museum exhibitions, and concerts devoted to Schnitzler and Musil, Joseph Roth and Grillparzer, von Hoffmansthal and Mahler, Bruckner and Freud, Kokoschka and the other expressionists, Klimt and Jung and the rise of Schoenberg and Jung, Webern and Adler, -- as well as weekly publication for the last few decades of studies of the rise of political anti-semitism - Schnorer, etc.). Yet: a) the movie wastes a few hours to uninformatively tell us that Mahler was a composer and conductor (!), that Kokoschka painted and sculpted un-pretty things (!), that Gropius was an architect who speaks once in praise of form and the absence of adornment, and that Werfel liked to sing and demonstrated against the government. That's it. There really is no more insight into these people.**** SPOILERS**** b) we see a deeply unsympathetic woman who, for no real reason we can see, has an affair with an architect the first time she's away from her children and husband Mahler (telling him - comically - that he "forced her into the man's arms"! and expressing no remorse), then informs the architect into whose arms she was "forced" that she would not stay with her husband - when Mahler is dead, she shacks up again with the architect and resumes her fornication but then decides to go after a painter. We aren't told why she loses her interest in the architect. Later, big with child with the painter who deeply loves her, she kills the child and abandons the artist as World War I begins. Why? We don't learn. She says to one that she was "suffocated". Really? We don't see it. So, when our painter returns from the War, he sees that she's returned to being the concubine of yet another! And is pregnant again with that man's child.Yet we never ever see what draws any of the men to her - except that she aggressively goes after them like any groupie - whether she's married or unmarried, whether they wish it or not.This is truly an anti-feminist story about a woman who found her identity only in that of men - and frantically went from one to another, willing to be sexually used to gain proximity.In an age when so many women made their names famous through their work (Vanessa Bell, Virginia Woolf, Edith Wharton, Katherine Mansfield, Colette, dozens of others in the arts), Alma Schindler Moll Mahler Gropius Werfel managed only to lengthen her own by lying on her back and encourage famous men to go ahead. It's hard to find this appealing.

I went to this movie and I didn't really hear anything about it before and didn't know what to expect from it. I didn't even know what this film was about. All of a sudden I hear a familiar trumpet and horn melody in the opening credits and I was filled with joy. For these were the notes as composed by the late great Gustav Mahler. I quickly realized that this was going to be a film about one of my favorite composers and I was totally drawn into the film. Of course, though, this film is not about Mahler, but his wife Anna. The parts that included Gustav and Anna were wonderful. There was some honest passion going on that very few films I have seen lately have exhibited. The overall communication between the two near the end of Mahler's life was very gentle, bittersweet and very believable. Gorgeous work from Wynter and Pryce together. However the film gets considerably worst with each relationship Anna has after Mahler. Everything seems forced and rushed and consequential. It almost seems that Beresford was out to make a film about Mahler and then right in the middle of production he finds out the Mahler died much earlier than an erroneous script had told him. So he decides to make a film about a confused female 'player' who only went out with successful men before having some success of her own. Oh well. Still though I had a good time with this film. I just wish this was more of a film about Gustav Mahler than it actually was.Elendil