The Age of Innocence (1993)

Ebert praises Scorsese's elegant, faithful adaptation of Wharton's novel as a brutal story of crushed passion and social repression, filmed with patience and visual grace. He singles out the performances, especially the final scene's poignant revelations about sacrifice and regret.

The critic calls it Scorsese’s masterpiece and one of his finest films, a visually sumptuous adaptation pulsing with frustrated tension and unspoken sadness. It singles out the electrifying chemistry between the leads and the shattering closing scene for praise.

Scorsese delivers a rapturous, sensuous adaptation of Wharton's novel of forbidden love and high-society rituals in 1870s New York, with ravishing period detail and strong performances. The critic singles out the meticulous mise-en-scène, voice-over narration, and standout work from Day-Lewis, Pfeiffer, and especially Ryder for praise.

The critic calls the film a Scorsese work through and through despite its lack of violence or profanity, praising its exploration of brutality beneath manners and social ritual. It singles out the director's own description of the film as his most violent for its cold-blooded portrayal of repressed emotion in 1870s New York society.

Scorsese's adaptation is an astonishing achievement that belongs in the canon of classic American cinema, rendering Wharton's world of innuendo, subtext, and repressed desire with obsessive visual flair and neurotic maximalism. It captures the exquisite agony of passion that must remain theoretical amid rigid social constraints.

The critic hails Scorsese’s adaptation as a visually breathtaking and exquisitely refined tragedy of manners from 1870s New York high society. It singles out the powerfully matched performances of Daniel Day-Lewis and Michelle Pfeiffer as guilty lovers for particular praise.

Scorsese has made a gorgeously uncharacteristic film that functions as a window on a world he had just discovered. The Wharton novel is a deliciously hard-edged satire of manners and customs, and Scorsese's outsider's fascination matches that of the author.

Scorsese's adaptation of Edith Wharton's novel about repressed passion in 1870s New York high society is magnificent and expressionistic, with excellent performances and vivid use of mise-en-scène, decor, gesture and ironic narration to convey erotic fervour trapped by social rituals. It is the director's most poignantly moving film.

The film delivers unrelenting emotional and psychological violence that is as invasive and devastating as the physical brutality in Scorsese's gangster pictures. It stands out for blending historical observation with dynamic cinematic techniques to expose tribal power structures and repressed passion.

Scorsese's version is definitive and one of his most visually dynamic works, using free-ranging camerawork, color, and editing to convey the cruelty of Gilded Age society's stifling mores and emotional violence. It balances nostalgia for the era's surfaces with clear-eyed recognition of the brutality beneath the polite surfaces.

Turan calls the film a beautifully done, polished, and cinematic adaptation that masterfully meets the challenge of Wharton's delicate romance despite Scorsese's visceral reputation. He praises the re-creation of period detail and the lead performances, especially Day-Lewis, while noting a certain distance in tone.

Scorsese delivers a serious film with sumptuous detail and a brilliant central performance from Daniel Day-Lewis, though some casting choices leave female characters corseted and the emotion not fully felt. It succeeds as a wake-up call from the past rather than a mere costume piece.

Scorsese reformulates his style for a subtler, more indirect subject, bringing the past to life through precise detail without false immediacy and conveying the hypocrisy and social codes of old New York. The critic praises the film's anthropological eye, production design, and clever use of voice-over and imagery while noting it succeeds by not being merely painterly.

An extraordinarily sumptuous piece of filmmaking and an impeccably faithful adaptation, with superb craft in all departments, but the material remains cloaked by propriety and emotional starchiness, limiting its appeal to sophisticated viewers.

The film is an underrated masterpiece and Scorsese's most cruel and ruthless vision of a closed society, a sumptuous triumph that faithfully adapts Wharton's novel while revealing emotional and psychological violence more harrowing than physical brutality. It excels in its meticulous recreation of the era's refined customs as a facade for tribal control and self-sacrifice.

Scorsese's adaptation is a masterpiece of heartbreaking repression in Gilded Age New York society. The critic praises the performances, especially Day-Lewis, the period detail in production design and costumes, and the lush Elmer Bernstein score.

The film is Scorsese's most brutal work through its depiction of emotional and societal violence rather than physical. The critic highlights the subtle, devastating performances and the way high-society repression leads to profound heartbreak.