Review: "Ammonite" is an Enjoyably Quaint Love Story

Scene from Ammonite (2020)

For most of her life, Mary Anning (Kate Winslet) has lived a quiet life, focused on her work. As a paleontologist, she spends her life focused on the way that the world was, admiring the skeletal structures of animals imprinted onto rocks. It's a lonely world and one that not too many understand. Through Winslet's subdued performance, she captures the struggles of self-expression, unable to truly be happy around anyone. That is until she is forced to take care of Charlotte Murchinson (Saoirse Ronan) and finds passion starting to form. For the first time in her life, somebody cares about her, bonding over science and discovering deeply personal secrets that allow her to become more transparent.

Like most love stories, Ammonite has its fair share of goofiness that's hard to understand from the outside world. As someone who has been repressed, Mary reflects love as it blossoms, evolving from an idea into an emotion,  becoming this sweet story of love. Ronan has rarely been more vulnerable as an actress, managing to convey a strong emotional range that shows how these two complement each other. Their journey may be quaint and the endless minutes of watching them study paleontology may seem strange, but it's ultimately endearing. The story may be much too quaint at times to be a masterpiece, but it's got enough going for it that the audience buys into every smile, every sacrifice they make for each other. It's love as something formative, and the joy in these moments is the infectious heart of the film, where loneliness stops being the unbearable reality and Mary (and the audience) find something greater waiting ahead.
In 1840s England, Mary has taken to searching a beachside for fossils, climbing up the side of hills to find something hidden from view. She is bold, unafraid to scuff up her skirt, and most of all ambitious. Nobody is sure what draws her to this hobby, and yet she's very good at it. When she stumbles upon a piece of ammonite, she becomes intrigued by something that could be her life's work. There, in the rock, is the skeletons of something greater. There was life before, and now she needs to find a way to make the world care. Maybe it's the patience of long hours, but her soul is like that ammonite, buried underneath layers, hidden in plain sight yet out of reach. Who could she possibly talk about this too and make them feel like it's the greatest thing in the world?

At a seaside location, Mary's eventual relationship with Charlotte spends many hours wandering that beach where she found ammonite. As they sit there, bearing their feet for the sun to tan, there is that fantasy that they'll escape to someplace better. The tide will pull them away, and their dreams will come true. However, the symbolism of rocks and water can't mix well together. Even if they've coincided for centuries, one would weather the other. On the one hand, it would free the skeleton, but it will be in its brittle deformation. How would Mary possibly deal with exposing herself to someone, being so honest that she experiences long-dormant emotions?

If the story has anything keeping it from being better, it's that this is more of a sketch of a relationship, watching Mary and Charlotte slowly fall in love. As Charlotte comes to terms with her mediocre marriage, she breaks down in tears, having her own internal struggles laid bare. What the film does exceptionally well is exploring the feeling of being less alone in the world, where there is someone to talk to. Charlotte teaches Mary to feel alive, and it's enough to make the story work. Even as their love ranges from childlike beach endeavors to more erotic passions, there is this understanding of growth, an ability to see them as humans. They are deserving of love, and it's clear that even if the conflict isn't always nail-biting, the chemistry is palpable.

It is a quaint journey and one that is heavily improved by a brilliant third act. What at times feels slight or meandering is given a greater context. Director Francis Lee presents a movie rich with striking images and symbolism during this portion that hints at a maybe stronger story. Even then, it's to the leads' credit that it never feels tedious. They make every affectionate stare feel like it's holding something deeper. By the end, Ronan has a giddiness that is infectious, filling in the blanks for how repression has ultimately hurt her. When they're together, they unleash something more substantial in each other. The question ultimately becomes whether they can love each other for themselves, career and all, or if this was for naught.

It has a bittersweet touch but is overall a solid romance that does enough right. With decent costume work, the story comes to life with a tender eye, allowing the simple act of existing symbolizes something grander. Whether it be a fossil embroidered in ammonite or actual love, the idea of having something so rare and fragile comes to be the most significant thing in the world. Like the fossil, it's important to preserve love, whether as an emotion or an idea, for as long as possible. After all, it's what gives us a reason to live. Even if this movie lacks a riveting story, it's still a great showcase for its leads and allows for an exploration of love that is raw, honest, and a bit awkward. In its imperfections the film becomes better, asking the audience to accept Mary and Charlotte for who they are. Lucky for Lee, everything is good enough to make that work.