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Sister My Sister Review: Sort of a cross between a true-crime fable and a Merchant/Ivory costume drama, this BBC production builds a palpable sense of emotional carnage from the precisely choreographed interactions of just four main characters. It's to the credit of the quartet of actresses -- and to writer Wendy Kesselman and first-time director Nancy Meckler -- that the resulting character study proves so finely nuanced. The inimitable Julie Walters is all curled lips, fine manners, and manipulation as the monied widow who treats her daughter as much like a chattel as she does her two maids. Sophie Thursfield expertly plays the other half of that mother-daughter monstrosity; her puffy, pouty Isabelle dead-tired of life in the provinces, but just as titillated by the crisp mystery of their impoverished servants. Joely Richardson gives a searing, tightly coiled performance as Christine, the older of the two maids. Proud of her humility and pining away for the affections of a long-ago convent caretaker, she can't conceive of any love that isn't all-consuming. Into this domestic tableau walks Jodhi May's Lea, eager to please, but just as ready to come unhinged given the right set of pressures. As with many a "true story," Sister My Sister builds its own structure of meaning atop a constantly receding foundation of facts. It's beside the point whether this harrowing psychological study bears any relation to actual events; on its own merits, the film is full of disconcerting emotional truths. Brian J. Dillard, All Movie Guide

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