I guess the point here is when the truth is right in front of your face, why is it so hard to trust it? Whether it’s love, or danger, or anger, or just big naked dancing girls, it’s all right in your face here. One character even takes a dump outside for everyone to see.
Is this worth 2 hours of my time? I’m not sure. But the idea and the endeavor is intriguing. It feels like the film exists more in theory than in practice though; as if the log-line is better than the film. But there is a lot to appreciate here, even if it sometimes feels like an exercise in book-to-screen.
The act of translating an idea into reality is something film shares with fashion. But in film there are a lot more trip-wires, and tests to this reality. In fashion, someone really can effectively wear an idea; so long as it doesn’t fall off, I suppose.
Shocking and Disturbing
I found the opening shots of the fat naked women really disturbing (I’m being blunt on purpose). I didn’t realize until I sat down to write this, that this was the point (I think). But it was disturbing on a couple levels. First of all, objectively subjectively speaking, that condition and treatment of the human body is not attractive. But, the way it was shot and edited made it disturbing. I had no idea what to pay attention to and why. This made me uncomfortable. Because this was the first images in the film, only compounded this feeling. I felt like I was in a dark room and didn’t know where the walls were. I kept reaching out but never felt anything. Now again, maybe back to the premise, the fact that I was left alone with my own feelings and sense of truth and nothing else, was some completely sublime point to it all. Was I being asked to question what I was feeling and seeing? It’s an interesting idea to explore; our association with the storyteller and our relative confidence in them as our guide
So, some sort of vague payoff is, I suppose, that the women are part of an art exhibit and what we were kind of sort of watching was real lve in your face art. But that’s where the guide (the director) question comes into play again. The editing didn’t feel this way. No one (I don’t think) would experience an exhibit the way we watched the opening shots. The point of view was something else, so the idea that the women were actually in a real space within the film didn’t quell my discomfort, it confounded it further.
Setting off on this disturbing beat, but also no more grounded when the sequence ends than before the film began, we are introduced to the Amy Adams character, and the various supporting characters milling about around her, in a way that makes this thing called dramatic tension a ball of string that continues to unravel. I didn’t really “get” the art gallery or who was who, or the point or what I was supposed to feel. Then the scene in the kitchen, introducing Amy and her husband Armie Hammer, felt a little bit like a student acting class. This odd tension was compounded by the idea that a husband and wife would casually bring up their contact with their first love felt odd. However, in retrospect, that blunt, ignorant-of-other’s-feelings-dialogue, was a pattern in the film, and maybe this was the first instance.
In the bizarre car combat scene that would mark the next building block of the story, the truth, in the form of danger this time, was right in front of Jake Gyllenhaal’s Tony Hattfield character. But he refused to see it. I kept thinking, who would do this? Who would act this way? It didn’t feel like ignorance, it was more a fear of the truth. He didn’t want to see it.
This is on point for the film’s theme. Tony would spend the rest of the film pursuing justice and proving the truth. While this was all right in front of him the whole time, he chose hindsight to be 20/20. The film’s construct of moving between pas and present further supported this theme.
Writing Themes
The Tony and Amy’s Susan characters were almost speaking in a such a way so as to get a rise out of the other characters. In “real life” Edward had his feelings on the surface. But It felt like Tony and Susan characters lived in carefully constructed shells of fear, and they needed to use others to access themselves? Was that what Susan was doing? Was she trying to get some passion out of the man she wasn’t in love with?
The real vehicle for the film, however, in my opinion was the Michael Shannon character. (Man, I love me some michael shannon. He’s always great to watch.) He said stuff the entire film that would push anyone to their limits; continually prodding and sucker-punching Jake Gylllanhal’s fictional character, Tony Hattfield. But Tony would take it all at face value, seeing and hearing facts, but never the truth. Finally, it took until the end of the film for (detective) Bobby Andes to start suffering from cancer and leaving the frame, to literally force Tony to pull the trigger. It was a pretty interestingly written role and well performed.
The script is good, and probalby the book too. I just don’t know if it makes a great movie.
Taking a moment to look at the past relationship with Edward and Susan, there was one of their final conversations/fights and Edward asks flat out, “Do you love me?” and then when she protests and hems and haws he attempts to stop her and states, “no, that’s the point. That’s the whole point.” I liked this bluntness and felt like this ability to confront the truth head on in real life, unlike his fictional character, was also profound and carried the theme along.
Love and Danger
The truth, like love, can feel scary. Susan’s colleague is so enamored with her baby that she just wants to look at all day long (through her phone screen, not in person, mind you). Susan takes a turn (being more requested to do so than volunteering) to look at the baby, to participate in the love fest. She takes the phone. But when she looks to get a taste of that love, she sees a scary man jump out at her and she drops the phone. I’m getting chills writing about it, because I was scared when it happened too. Love is scary, Susan, I agree. This was sort of one of those great out of the box moments in the film for me. It was the fashion designer flare that I love.
Susan continualy keeps love at bay, like her mother’s hair fights gravity. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. But to Susan, is this tree actively preventing the apples from falling?
Edward, passionate and diving headlong, (intended I believe, but not totally rendered this way), views the relationship with Susan like a torturous thing that he can’t quit. This is the allegory of the horrific events that happen to his character Tony and his family. Love to him is something that gets destroyed, but he can’t believe it, or at least needs to justify it, and then spends an inordinate amount of time and energy coming to terms with what is ultimately obvious. The truth is in his face the whole time.
But I guess if he didn’t pursue his investigation, we wouldn’t have a film. And if he didn’t share his story with Susan, his feelings would never be known. It’s like the manuscript was his final salvo to share his feelings about the relationship. I can appreciate his endeavor.
Script to Screen
I actually never heard of Tony Ford before. So I did like 30 seconds of research, and combined it with the fact that my friend told me he’s a fashion designer who sometimes makes films (or maybe it’s the other way around?). Either way, what a treat to do either. I’m a big fan of fashion design, because it’s like a pure play on ideas. A designer approaches the project with a statement and feel and passion in mind. The through-line of journey is paramount and the finished garment is a living rendition of these ideas. It felt like Tony Ford, who wrote and directed, approached the material like a fashion designer. There were some parts that were pure feeling, some very proscenial and crafted just so, and some excessive focus on accouterment.
The dissolving/transposing of Tony and Susan in the bathtub was interesting and cinematic. Some of the costume and set design, and hair/make-up was also pure mise en scene. And some of the character interaction scenes felt like the camera was in just the right spot, for no rhyme or reason.
I liked the shot over the back of Ray Marcus as he approached Tony with the fireplace poker behind his back. Sort of a POV from nowhere, high angle looking down his back. It didn’t make a ton of sense, but it felt like just the right spot for the camera; so therefore it also made all the sense in the world. The director felt like he had a very pure approach to this material, letting what felt right rule and the journey justify the destination.
Also the way the director handled certain transitions and in particular the Ray Marcus character, was interesting. The shot of the one cowboy standing ready to shoot another I remember as striking. I though it was real and then it reveals itself as a painting. The Ray character was just a really good performance by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, but the director framed him and photographed him just the right ways to make it really effective. In these ways, and many others, the film was cinematic.
The film’s themes versus the film?
As I reflect on the film, having watched it only once, I start to feel that all the reasons I wanted to dismiss it are precisely the ones that give it validity. I also find myself struggling to logically make sense of the film. I want to put it in certain boxes so I can better pass judgement on it. But really, upon reflection, there seems to be only one way to judge this film, and that is in the entirety of its journey.
And ain’t that just like the theme? You can’t really have truth by picking off facts here and there. Truth just is. It’s the whole thing, past and present, in context.