Sunday, February 20, 2005

Closer


The movie Closer, featuring Natalie Portman in her most provocative role to date, provides a unique glimpse into the psychological interdynamics of relationships. Rather than taking a fairy tale approach and leaving relationships' destinies to the workings of circumstance, or the influence and counterinfluence of the characters' other lives (work, family, etc.), here the logic revolves around a series of pivotal moments put into motion by the characters themselves given the opportunities that were available to them.

A lot of the credit for the movie's interest must go to the superb play and screenplay written by Patrick Marber (the play was originally written by Marber in the earlier 1990s). An excellent cast brings it superbly to life and my sole regret is that (in large part because the play chooses to focus so exclusively on the interrelationships) the unique atmospheres of the settings in which each character played out their lives were a little neglected: the writer as a solitary worker; the doctor in contact with his clinical, upwardly mobile middle class setting; the photographer in her international artistic career; the striptease dancer in her cafe and stripclub. A film has the visual capacity to evoke settings and atmosphere in ways that a play can't. But as a second-best and to my personal delight something of the ambience of the city was there: in the memorial cemetary where Daniel and Alice go the first time, in the streets Daniel traverses, in the familiar London doorways, in the subtle glamour of the photography exhibition, even a reference to policemen as Bobbies.

So what we have are the personalities of these characters, and the striptease dancer was the most vivid and most successful, with the doctor in second place. We are introduced to Alice as a "disarming" young beauty amidst the pedestrian inner city crowds while a voice sings "Can't take my eyes off you". Daniel approaches from afar and that is exactly what he can't do, take his eyes off her. What makes this so striking and thematically important is that her identity is not yet known to us, but she is a beautiful, attractive girl. On film this works exceptionally well. She has left New York (for London) because of some situation with an ex-boyfriend, and we are told she never leaves anyone unless she no longer loves him. She no longer loves him. Moreover it seems clear that she is the one who usually walks away - not the other way around ... Now cut to the end where we have another walk on the sidewalk amidst the crowds, she is back in New York, she looks even more beautiful than in the initial scene this time with long flowing hair, slow motion as heads turn, "Can't take my eyes off you" playing in the background. The End.

Now we have two counterparts, contrary parts or opposite parts: Alice is free, again. What is more her real name is not Alice but Jane - the name she gives to the doctor in the nightclub. Are we to believe that her nightclub person is more real than the entire history she spends in London with Daniel? I think we are. As opposed to Anna and Daniel, who are looking for happiness, Jane wants freedom and independence - it is her goal more than relationship happiness. She strikes me as the skillful contemporary incarnation of courtesans, an independently motivated vocation even more than a societal role and service, stretching back centuries. The "bliss of marriage" is never her thing. Larry the doctor is the only character who senses her real character (but doesn't see it clearly either, because he is rooted in his own world), after their first meeting at the exhibition he says: "she is sly" - when up to that point she has come across as remarkably demure and we have little reason to think otherwise. She sidesteps his questions about her objectification in the photograph with remarkable answers ... The second counterpart, or opposite part, is the marriage and eventual restoration of marriage between Larry and Anna. They are happy, Larry is
victorious. Larry, whose lasciviousness is a compromise of fantasy within married life, eventually outdoes Daniel who is "unable to compromise" in general in relationships.

Daniel is the sole loser in the story, but let us not forget that he is a writer and to some extent authored the outcome of everything - despite himself. He is gentle - but extremely deceptive and manipulative; he evidently dumps Ruth almost immediately for Alice, and then without shame tries to get rid of Alice so he can be with Anna. But Alice outlasts him: her deception, which he only finds out after she's gone and he returns to the cemetary, is fastened on him just after they meet. Whereas he continues to shower her with his own deceptions, it is when she gains monetary (and therefore independent) power - though her trade in the club - that she is able to divorce herself from him. It is at this point that he breaks his own rules, but of necessity - his final resort. It's almost as if the entire reign of deception was all that held their relationship together - she willingly coninued her false identity long before Larry and Anna ever came into view (that is not to deny the importance of power play amongst the various characters, where truth plays a major role - the play as power play). When he succumbs and demands the truth she admits that he leaves her no choice - she can't lie, but nor can she tell him the truth about her relations with Larry. Again, it's as if he authors the outcome (but that's a funny "as if", because one thing the author cannot control is the desire that drew him to her initially, that put everything into play).

She does tell him the truth then but more as a goodbye gift, she is not malicious or into doling out hurt of her own accord. She has already withdrawn herself from Daniel. It's ironic that he should ask her just before that: "When do you plan to stop dancing?" as if it is just a utilitarian part of her life. Her identity intact, she might well leave him as she greeted him: "Goodbye stranger." Of course, there's none of that.

In the final instance we could pause briefly at the title, Closer. Closer to the truth, further from reality. Closer is further, in the case of Daniel and Jane. In the case of Larry and Anna "Closer" is a kind of lie - Larry became closer to Jane, and so recaptured Anna. Is there a lesson in that? That's a funny thing to wonder. At any rate, Anna and Daniel seem to have been seduced by some sort of elite but impotent dream. They were never the wielders of the final power and simply submitted or succumbed to their final roles - the one happily, the other unhappily.

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