The English Patient

Anthony Minghella winds Michael Ondaatje’s novel into two periods: a burned man in an Italian monastery who will not give his name, and a mapping expedition in the Sahara. The production almost collapsed. Fox wanted a bigger name; Minghella held out for Kristin Scott Thomas and Willem Dafoe and the studio walked 3 weeks before shooting, leaving Miramax to buy worldwide rights. She had won the part with a letter written after a lunch she thought she had ruined. Tunisia supplied the desert, shot at four in the morning in November cold. The music came first, reversing the usual order. Minghella refused temp tracks; Gabriel Yared wrote themes from the screenplay before shooting, Walter Murch tried them against scenes in Berkeley, and for 6 months cut and score kept remaking each other. That evolution, not a plot beat, carries the time jumps. The Academy turned 12 nominations into 9 awards. Juliette Binoche won supporting actress and Murch won twice in one night, for editing and sound; Fiennes and Scott Thomas were nominated without winning. A good fit if you look for the reason a scene ends where it does in the score rather than the story. Not for anyone who will tire of long stretches where the lead lies bedridden under burn makeup, acting with his voice.