A film
review by James Berardinelli for ReelViews.net.
If you pay
attention to Hollywood's romantic comedies, the interaction between men and
women is all about love and companionship. If you instead rely upon the
philosophy of Closer, it's all about
power. Closer starts like a nice
romantic drama, with a couple of meet
cutes (as Roger Ebert called them), then does a 180-degree turn and shows
what happens when happily ever after rots from the inside out. It isn't just
the relationships that curdle, but the characters. Their interaction becomes
bitter and cynical. Sex is a tool used in power struggles and one-upmanship
games. Although the word love is
mentioned a few times, it has little place in this movie, where emotions are
weaknesses to be exploited by others. With Closer,
director Mike Nichols and
screenwriter Patrick Marber
(translating his stage play) have ventured into Neil LaBute territory (In the Company of Men, Your Friends and
Neighbors). For Nichols, this is not new terrain - he has visited here
twice previously, in Who's Afraid of
Virginia Woolf? and Carnal Knowledge.
Put those two older films together with Closer
and you get a grim trilogy that doesn't have a lot of good things to say about
the human condition.
On the
surface, Closer is the story of two
couples whose infidelities rip them apart. Dan (Jude Law) and Alice (Natalie
Portman) meet on the streets of London when she is hit by a car and he
comes to her rescue. He takes her to a hospital and the pair are soon living
together. But Dan, an obituary writer who has penned a novel, finds himself
obsessed with Anna (Julia Roberts), the
photographer who took the picture for his book jacket. He wants her, and tells
her so, but she demurs when she learns he has a live-in girlfriend. You're taken, she comments, as if that
puts an end to things. Dan inadvertently introduces Larry, a dermatologist, (Clive Owen) to Anna when a practical
joke (in which he pretends to be Anna in an Internet sex chat room) goes awry.
The two start a romance, and are eventually married. But there's sexual
chemistry between Dan and Anna, and, to a lesser extent, between Larry and
Alice. Over the next four years (the film occasionally jumps forward by months
in order to span that much time), infidelities occur, betrayals are discovered,
and all manner of ugliness ensues. From a physical standpoint, Closer is not a violent film. From an
emotional one, it's brutal. Nichols doesn't pull his punches. You leave the
theater shaken.
The film
is notable for its frank dialogue. There's plenty of profanity and also a host
of interesting observations. (Although these characters speak with an erudition
not found in conversations between real people.) Closer is talky, but in a smart way. You never feel that the characters
are talking to hear their own words or to fill up screen time. Nevertheless,
those unaware that the story began its life as a play will not be surprised to
learn this fact. Yet the rawness of emotions keeps us from noticing how few
sets there are, and how little conventional action
occurs.
The film
turns the tables on just about everyone. Users become victims, and vice versa.
Innocence is corrupted, and corruption learns too late that there's no return
path. Alice, who is arguably the most naïve member of the ensemble (despite
being a stripper by profession), is hurt the most deeply, and that pain results
in an irrevocable change. Larry, a decent guy when the film starts, turns into
a cold, calculating man, having sex on at least two occasions to torment Dan.
In the end, he wants to possess Anna not out of love, but because doing so
means beating Dan. But to paint Dan as guiltless is unfair - he's a weasel
(albeit a charming one) and an instigator. He cheats without concern for
repercussions, then is astounded when any of them impact him. Anna is
fundamentally weak and dishonest. She doles out and receives hurt in equal
measures.
In Closer, the actors get a chance to
shine, and no one is brighter than Clive Owen. Despite a number of memorable
turns (and one big mistake: King Arthur),
Owen still lacks household recognition. A likely (and deserved) Oscar
nomination for this performance will change that. The ferocity with which Owen
delivers his lines, and the restless energy he imparts to Larry, electrifies
every scene that he's in. Closer's
two most riveting sequences involve Owen and Natalie Portman - one in an art
gallery where they first meet, and the other in a strip club where he has all
the money but she has the power, and uses it.
Portman,
in what has been called her first truly adult role (it's certainly nowhere
close to Queen Amidala), is also very, very good. Like Owen, she must essay a
character who undergoes a complete personality transformation - from vulnerable
waif to ice queen seductress. There's a rawness and courage to her work (and,
although there's no overt physical nudity due to camera placement, her scenes
in the strip club are frank). The aforementioned scenes are Portman's
highlights as well as Owen's, and she has one other - a heartbreaking moment in
which she turns to the camera with tears on her face, and we recognize that the
first piece of Alice's innocence has been stolen.
It would
be unfair to describe either Julia Roberts' or Jude Law's performances as lesser, but the two high-profile actors
are not on the same level as their compatriots. Each has their moments, but
neither captures the attention of the camera with the intensity of Owen or
Portman. This is Roberts the actress, not Roberts the movie star (see Notting Hill if you crave the latter),
and her dedication to the role rather than glamour serves her well. Law is a
little flat; I actually found him more convincing in Alfie.
Movies
that look deeply into the human soul and uncover putrefaction are hard sells.
But they are also some of the most fascinating films to be found. Are Nichols
and Marber's characters too cynically drawn? Perhaps. Do they occasionally seem
like marionettes manipulated by a clever writer? Yes. But those things don't
diminish the film's compelling emotional qualities. Closer is powerful and disturbing stuff. It is not life-affirming,
and it's not for those who want to leave a movie theater uplifted and convinced
that fairy tale endings can happen. And this is most definitely not a date
movie. But if you appreciate films that are more substance than style, that
take challenges and don't follow formulas, and that feature Oscar-caliber
performances, Closer is not to be
missed. [Berardinelli’s rating: *** ½ out of 4 stars]
Labels:
drama, romance
No comments:
Post a Comment