Based on the decidedly misogynist short story “The Dying Animal” by Philip Roth, Coixet’s Elegy proves a worthy adaptation that takes the appropriate liberties with the text to enrich secondary characters and heighten character interactivity. It also continues the Spaniard director’s almost fetishistic trend of exploring illness and disfiguration of the female form in relation to their sexuality and complex unsentimental needs. Elegy is an extremely well acted film by all lead thesps and has some efficacious moments of stillness that should spur emotion in even the most hardened cynic.

Professor David Kapesh (Ben Kingsley) is introduced hocking his book about hedonism in early America on “Charlie Rose”, which paints an indelible portrait of Kapesh’s own blithe disregard for puritanical ideals. This is further driven home by candid voiceover discussions of how to seduce female students without getting charged with sexual harassment and conversations surrounding successful f**k and run scenarios with his best friend and colleague George O’Hearn (Dennis Hopper).

After starting up an affair with a beautiful Cuban-born student Consuela (Penelope Cruz), David struggles to adhere to his own rules and logic in shedding his much younger conquest prior to her anticipated rejection of him. Ever the aesthete, David is unable to see beyond Consuela’s looks to discover her composite centre; and as such projects his personal surface-based insecurities onto her desires, ultimately wounding their fledgling relationship and a part of her youthful ideals.

While performances throughout are unsurprisingly strong, it is Penelope Cruz who makes the most impact, delivering her first impressive English-language performance, aside from a decent supporting turn in The Good Night. Her insecurities and desires are apparent beneath the surface of a woman who keeps her emotions in check. It meshes well with Ben Kingsley’s world weathered but emotionally immature portrayal of a man lured by youthful feminine sexuality while knowing better intellectually.

The power dynamics between the May-December coupling are well handled, while never explicit, feeling most sincere in a scene where David feels compelled to follow Consuela to a party despite her pleas for him not to and another where he makes fun of her for admitting that a teen lover liked to watch her menstruate. She consistently overlooks these faults and finds pleasure in his world wisdom and genuine desire for her youth and physicality. Personal validation comes twofold in obtaining a thing of beauty and finding security in being wanted.

These explorations of each character ring emotional truth and sincerity despite an occasionally detached an unemotional perspective. Like the title itself, the film emits a feeling of melancholy, which spurns identification and personal reflection in those who embrace it.

- Robert Bell