Grey Gardens

It is tough to top the intrigue and charisma of the real-life Edies, but Barrymore and Lange try. Lange is especially appealing when she croons, as Big Edie was wont to do at parties before she turned recluse. The contrast before and after is heartbreakingly stark. Barrymore captures Little Edie’s peculiarities, especially in the later years, and exhibits pathos we rarely see from her. But her accent: off-base. The two of them together, however, are a force.

More pluses: The costumes are gorgeous without appearing too costume-y -- the dresses are especially yummy -- and, notwithstanding the Beales’ decaying mansion later in the film, the Hamptons have never looked more beautiful. Scenes that mimic the Maysles’ footage are amazing near-facsimiles. But, and this is a considerable but: What made the Maysles’ film so powerful is the way it peeled off Big and Little Edie’s layers so that as each stratum fell, our sense of wonder and horror crescendoed to a deafening awe. Here, anger that fossilized into despair and near-madness -- the house they lived in was cat- and raccoon-filled and decrepit -- is reduced to folly.