Moment of Truth

Deception and intrigue. Hidden agendas. Powerful forces outside your control.

Gillian Anderson deals with these issues every week as “The X-Files” FBI Agent Dana Scully. Now the actress is confronting them in a different--yet no less dangerous way--as Lily Bart in “The House of Mirth,” based on Edith Wharton’s classic novel of early 20th century social wars amid the rarefied world of New York’s posh upper class.

In many ways, “The House of Mirth,” which opened Friday in Los Angeles and New York, couldn’t be more different than “X-Files.” It’s a character-driven period piece as opposed to the effects-driven science-fiction TV show. But there’s a link: In both worlds, things are not what they appear.

“Everyone was basically living a breathing lie,” Anderson says of the behavior depicted in the Sony Pictures Classics film. In one of Wharton’s many characteristic ironies, the men and women Lily encounters appear to be very well bred and well behaved, yet beneath those poised and pleasant veneers lies many a treachery.

“At that time, there were things that you just did not speak about, no matter what you were feeling,” the actress continues. “Everything was conveyed through a side door.”

Aside from the 1998 film version of “The X-Files,” “The House of Mirth” is the first time Anderson, who made her movie debut in “The Turning” in 1992, has starred in a film. (She also appeared in 1998’s “Chicago Cab,” “Playing by Heart” and “The Mighty.”) “The House of Mirth” has received mostly favorable early reviews and lavish praise for Anderson’s performance.

Some of the demands of portraying the complex and not always sympathetic Lily Bart were eased by Wharton’s masterfully crafted novel, which provided Anderson with an intricate blueprint from which to build her film performance.

“What’s extraordinary about this novel is that Edith Wharton takes you step by step through every single beat,” the 32-year-old Anderson says. “You go back to the novel, and everything is there. Most of the time when you’re acting you’re trying to work out with yourself and the director what a scene means, but in this instance, [Wharton] is saying, ‘OK, this is what it is.’ She just hands it to you.”

Anderson’s admiration for the novel is mirrored by that of British writer-director Terence Davies, who considers “The House of Mirth” “one of the very few great tragic novels of the 20th century.”

“Lily has an intrinsic morality,” he says. “It takes great suffering and travail for her to discover it, but she does discover it in the end.”

Much of the Story Holds True Today

Although raised among the wealthy elite in New York, Lily Bart has no money of her own. Despite her connections, she is in a precarious social position: Confronted with the unpleasant fact that she is about to turn 30--some things never change!--Lily knows she must find herself a wealthy husband to cement her standing in the social class in which she feels she belongs.

As much as she wants to remain part of the turn-of-the-century “A-list,” Lily is unable to thoroughly give in to toeing its restrictive line. She finds it difficult to suppress her true feelings, whether it’s boredom with the pompous marriage prospect nearly within her grasp or love for Lawrence Selden (Eric Stoltz), a man who doesn’t have enough money to sustain Lily in the manner to which she is accustomed.

“What I love about this story is that we see Lily’s ego getting in the way over and over and over again,” Anderson says. Ultimately, Lily’s inability to commit to one clear direction places her on a path that leads to gossip, scandal and social ostracism, a fate worse than death for a woman in her position.

Despite the corsets and confining mores of the novel’s 1905 setting, much of what Wharton says about a woman trying to find her way in the world still rings true today. But social behavior is much different now, to say the least. The mannered, controlled tone of living in Wharton’s time is underscored by her style of writing, where much is conveyed through understatement and wry observation. Gestures and actions, even the most dramatic moments, are subtle and, it might seem, not easily translated onto film.

Davies, however, embraced the challenge of adapting Wharton, noting, “What cinema does at its best is reveal what goes on behind the eyes. You can say a lot with a gesture and a look.”

But while finding ways to cinematically express both the overt action and all that was going on beneath the surface, Davies was also committed to remaining true to the essence of the novel. “The tone here is one of immense sophistication,” he says, “of being exquisitely attuned to nuance--particularly in the cases of Lily Bart and Lawrence Selden, who are so exquisitely attuned to nuance that they get it wrong all the time!”

Davies, 55, whose earlier films, “Distant Voices, Still Lives” (1988) and “The Long Day Closes” (1992), were based on autobiographical material, was eager to “do something different, a more linear narrative.” He’s been an admirer of Wharton’s novel since reading it 15 years ago.

“It’s a quintessentially American novel, but it’s written by someone with an incredibly European sensibility,” he says, perhaps explaining how a book by a woman in New York would appeal to a man from Liverpool, England. Davies’ adaptation of “Mirth” is the third time the novel has been dramatized on screen. It was actually the first of Wharton’s works to be made into a movie--a silent film produced in 1918. In 1981, a made-for-television movie based on the novel featured Geraldine Chaplin in the lead role.

“The House of Mirth” was shot in Glasgow, Scotland, on a budget of $8.2 million, in June and July of 1999, during Anderson’s summer hiatus from “X-Files.” Davies, who was unfamiliar with Anderson’s work on the show--”I still haven’t seen it,” he admits during a phone interview--became immediately interested in casting her after seeing her photograph.

“I’d been looking at a lot of [John] Singer Sargent, the great portrait painter of the belle epoque,” he recalls. “Gillian’s photograph came into the office and I said, ‘That’s a Singer Sargent face!’ She does have that period look.”

That may come as a surprise to Anderson’s legion of fans, which is used to seeing her as the very contemporary Agent Scully, with her ever-tailored attire and no-nonsense demeanor. Might they be taken aback at seeing her portrayer in ruffles and frills, carefully masking her feelings behind innuendo and veiled hats?

“I have a really good relationship with my fans,” Anderson says. “I am very respectful and grateful for them and their participation in my career. But at the bottom line I choose jobs to feed my soul.”

The impressive supporting cast of “Mirth” includes Dan Aykroyd, Eleanor Bron, Anthony LaPaglia, Laura Linney, Jodhi May and Elizabeth McGovern. This melange was attractive to the director, who believes “the best of English acting is emotional restraint, and the best of American acting is restrained passion”--a combination of elements that is reflected in the emotions at play throughout the story.

Independent women at the turn of the 21st century certainly have more options open to them than those of Lily Bart’s day, and, as Anderson notes, “the stakes aren’t quite as high now as they were back then for women.” Nevertheless, she adds, “on a day-to-day basis, we’re still faced with the same dilemma. We’re all human beings wanting love and security and safety, and we’re all just doing the best that we can, struggling to make the right choices.”

Davies agrees that the novel strikes a chord that resonates in today’s society.

“The great modernity of the book is that apart from the particulars of the story, it’s about how much money you’ve got, what you look like, what people say about you. And what is modern society about? It’s about precisely that. Not much has changed at all.”