GLAAD for A Single Man--Tuesday Short-Take

The major GLAAD Media Awards were presented last Saturday in Los Angeles, so Award Season continues....

...and there was a comfort in knowing that "A Single Man", my favorite film of 2009 (covered in these pages, links below) was recognized for Outstanding Film in Wide release.

See winners in all categories here.

Although I maintain that awards in themselves neither add nor detract from any creative work, and as hard as I have struggled to regard arts (film, literature, music, all of them) on their own merits and NOT in terms of awards, I admit I felt a vindication of sorts, not necessarily for any prestige carried by the award, but to have a work I loved finally recognized...as though it is still alive in the public consciousness, and that in some wierd way, by extension, so am I. 


I identified so much with the story of  the writing and filming of "A Single Man", with the story of Christopher Isherwood and the circumstances surrounding the conception of this work; and Isherwood's influence on my budding passion for film, because he created the work that would become one of my powerhouse favorites and a film I still hold dear, "Cabaret".


Some may assert that GLAAD is singing to the choir, and that the Media Award will have little influence on mainstream audiences to give the film a chance.  Maybe so.  I, myself, have not always agreed with GLAAD's choices (and I'll stick my neck out now to say that I hated "Little Miss Sunshine", a recent recipient).  And, thinking back on Movie Year 2009, there were not too many wide releases that would merit award attention, so even a mediocre film could have been honored.


Fortunately, "Single Man" remains in my estimation a terrific piece of cinema by any measure.  And so I am happy to have a new, and relevant, reason to showcase it once again on these pages.

http://tom-samp-journal.blogspot.com/search/label/Christopher%20Isherwood


http://tom-samp-journal.blogspot.com/2010/01/single-man-part-2-film-review.html

http://tom-samp-journal.blogspot.com/2010/02/oscar-2010-my-actor-of-year.html

Oscar 2010: My Actor of the Year

With only two weeks to go before the inevitable bestowing of the Academy Awards,  it's time to weigh in on the Oscar films of 2009.  With a month since the announcement of the nominations to provide the proper perspective, this writer, who for most of his life was obsessed with the Academy Awards, will offer opinions on the expanded field of ten Best Picture nominees, discuss the likely winners and rationale for predictions, and the long-promised personal anecdote of the Oscar night in which I truly hated Oscar, and almost gave up on film altogether.  (There....End of Coming Attractions!)

Again, time and perspective, plus the fact that I am essentially a forgiving person, have brought me back to the fold, perhaps not as blindly accepting of the Oscar seal of approval, and certainly more cynical and jaded, but once again interested in Oscar's latest trends, and hoping that my personal favorites are held up for recognition and rightly preserved in the history books.

Much of my cynicism is due to the middling quality of movies in general, and the notion that even mediocre work must be trotted out every year for recognition before it fades again into relative obscurity, the record books notwithstanding.

(Quick Trivia Question: Sing last year's Oscar-Winning Best Song.)


I used to jump on the bandwagon for a front-running movie, even one I could not admit to myself I didn't like, in order to feel like I had a place at the party.  It's poignant in a way, how certain films are championed with such urgency, and praised as though the future of the art of filmmaking were held in the balance, only to be somewhat forgotten as we follow the next year's flavor of the day.

Somehow, (and again time will tell), I believe that a lot of the Oscar-winners of the last decade (quick: name the Best Picture Winners since 2000) will never be regarded with the same affection as the classics of 20, 30 or more years before. 


But still....


Even though I am pretty sure I can tell you this year's winners without watching the show, I still hope for a surprise that will send me out of my chair cheering, as when "Annie Hall" was named Best Picture, or Daniel Day Lewis for Best Actor in "My Left Foot", or Sean Penn for "Milk", or "Il Postino" or "The Red Violin" for Original Score.....  Really, the Oscars are like a slot machine....we keep playing, and putting up with lemons,  in order to experience those rare moments of triumph.

And so, I will be out of my seat once again this year if Colin Firth, a decidedly dark horse for Best Actor, is called to the stage.  I truly lament that the expanded field of Best Picture nominees afforded no space for "A Single Man".   And Firth, great as he is, seems to have very little momentum.

However, I just learned that Firth won best Actor from the London Film Critics Circle, so perhaps there is a glimmer of support for his truly emotional and accomplished work.  (You can, if you like, read my full appreciation of his performance in my review or "A Single Man".)

So, this is my way to pay tribute to an actor in a film which captured my imagination, spoke the language of my own heart, thrilled me with its writing and visual realization, helped me learn about myself and my life through the characters expertly played on the screen, gave me aesthetic pleasure, and inspired me creatively.  These are what I look for in a movie.  Enjoy the following clip, and I hope it encourages you to see this great film.

(By the way, if you've finished the last verse of "Jai Ho", try any one of this year's song nominees.)

"A Single Man", Part 2: Film Review

The movie version of Christopher Isherwood's "A Single Man"  restored my faith that well-made, character-driven films still have a place on the big screen.  Director Tom Ford, his talented crew, and his astounding cast, headlined by Colin Firth, demonstrate that talent, intelligence, and care can overcome a limited budget, a tight (21-day) shooting schedule, and a difficult subject.  This is a beautiful film, a delight to the eye and ear, stimulating and aesthetically pleasing, sensual and emotional.  It is one of the best films I have seen this year.

It is 1962 Los Angeles.  Firth is George Falconer, a professor of English at San Tomas State College.  He lives alone in a beautiful wooded home he shared with his partner Jim, who has died in a car accident.  (No spoiler here, this fact is established in a dream-like prologue.) It is apparent that George can no longer cope with his loss, and we follow his activities during the course of one day, a day that George intends to be his last.  His whole life is played out for us in this single day like a dreamy, mesmerizing "Mrs. Dalloway".  (Even the lush yet subtle score is has echoes of Philip Glass' work in "The Hours".)  Considering that this is an intimate portrait of a man in despair, the film moves as smoothly and as economically as Isherwood's prose.  Ford creates a tangible world that is convincing and inhabitable.

I must express early my utter gratitude for Firth's work here.  He knows this character, and embodies him with intelligence.  Played in almost constant closeup, Firth's George is less angry than Isherwood's, more faceted, and he is in sublime control of his effects; every muscle of his face, every nuance of his posture are composed like a fine piece of emotional art.  Just stunning work.

"A Single Man" shows, without preaching, the emotional and physical devastation that results in having to hide one's true nature. Speaking to his students, George turns a discussion on anti-Semitism into a cloaked appeal to consider other minorities, why minorities are feared, and that to acknowledge that fear directly and honestly allows one a safety valve against persecution.  George cannot discuss homosexals directly, and as Firth delivers this lecture, we see the conflict in his expression.

Firth is so natural, so much in character, that the thrill of his performance is time-released.  We see an extroardinary display of emotion in a flashback to his hearing the news of Jim's death.  He cannot appropriately let go, even while alone. Ford leaves the camera on Firth's face as George goes deeper and deeper into himself, and the confusion, the hurt, and the anger finally register.  It is more than the grief of losing his lover; it is the knowledge that Jim's  family does not consider him anything more than a friend, and so is not expected to attend the funeral.

When he does finally break down, it is in the company of an old friend and one-time flame, Charlie (the fabulous Julianne Moore, who embodies the free-spirited '60's), who well-meaningly offers herself to George with the mistaken idea that Jim was a substitute for real love and family.  His resulting tirade in his reply, that "Jim was not a substitute for anything",  was only barely hinted at in the book.  I imagine this phrase inspired Ford to create this film.  The convincing relevance of this sequence could be used as evidence in any trial for same-sex marriage rights.

In the novel, George tells his story in a detached, "other" point of view.  In the film, the visual representation of George's detachment is the desaturated color of reality; whenever his passions are stirred, or he has a fond memory, there is an infusion of full, warm hues, whether it is the scent of a beloved dog, or a rememberance of himself and Jim reading together at home.  Firth connects with us without overplaying.  His romatic encounters with a young hustler near a liquor store, and with Kenny, a fascinated student,  hint that perhaps George may still have some passion for life.

 I saw the film within an hour of having finished reading Isherwood's novel, and the movie is a worthy attempt to translate what is essentially an interior monologue into a visual experience.  Known as a giant in the fashion design industry, Ford directs his first film here, and he displays an impressive mastery of the kind of grammar that is still uniquely exciting to film-lovers (and is rarely utilized today): jump cuts, atmospheric color, probing closeups, flashbacks used to heighten emotion, appropriate expository voice-overs, long takes that allow characters to breathe, and meaningful camera movement.  No histrionics, no dumbing down.  

It is no surprise that Ford can design a shot, dress a set, and clothe his cast tastefully and gorgeously; but his understanding, for example, of new-wave editing rhythms to signify George's broken existence, or of juxtaposing shots to create meaning, heralds a true film buff who has created a personal statement while being true to the remarkable original work.  In a recent NPR interview, Ford acknowleges the encouragement he received from Don Bachardy, Isherwood's surviving partner.  In response to Ford's near-despair in how to bring the book to the screen, Bachardy tells Ford to simply "make it his own". (Bachardy has a small cameo in this film, in a scene in a faculty lounge.)

There are notable departures from the book, and although most of them allow the film a tighter and more compelling point of view, there are some mixed results in the translation.  I was struck by the emphasis on George's last name, Falconer, which I am sure does not appear anywhere in the novel.  A literary illusion, perhaps? (John Cheever maybe...)

A central incident in the novel has been cut, to the betterment of the movie, involving a dying woman who may have been Jim's lover. On the other hand, an added scene in which George meets a hustler (Ford fashion model Jon Kortajarena) outside of a liquor store is the only time the film looked like a fashion ad. That this is the only time Ford betrays his fashion-mogul background is to his credit here; and besides, that hustler was too chic to be believable.

A lot is made of George looking deep into people's eyes, desperate to make connections with them.  (This is not at all the bitter, bitchy, cynical George of the novel, and I think it brilliantly lets the viewer identify with him; this film would not work if George wasn't likeable, and Firth brings a natural likeability---we root for him.)  An extreme example of this motif, an enormous poster of Janet Leigh in "Psycho" as a backdrop in one scene, is less than convincing.  The poster does make for a neat composition, though.

I admire the re-creation of the period without it becoming a period piece. Ford might have done more with a larger budget, but the constraints allowed him to make more subtle choices.  I loved the house, and Moore's dressing room, and the way her earrings matched the wine goblets at dinner.  And Firth, in his tailored suits, is gorgeous, even though it is hard to take your eyes off his face.

Ford's ending is a mistake, I think. So much effort was made to build another structure for the film, a device to create suspense that did not appear in the book, that it seemed unnecessary to finally end the film as the book ends.  Ford effectively has two endings, when the first one, according to the dictates of Ford's script, would have sufficed...even though it is less despairing and cynical than Isherwood's.

But even that was so smoothly integrated, that the effect is only mildly disappointing.  This is a work of an exciting new film talent, who is aided brilliantly by all involved.  Special notice should be made to Matthew Goode as Jim, who has a boy-next-door smolder that made it easy to see why George loved him; and Nicholas Hoult as Kenny, George's curious student and kindred spirit, who may be George's emotional salvation.  In a brief role, Julianne Moore provides terrific support.  It is so good to see her play a character worthy of her portrayal that she is compelling to watch...it's some of her best work since "Far From Heaven".  The score is wondrous, by a composer I will pay more attention to: Abel Korzenowski.  The cinematography and lighting (Edouard Grau), the use of color, the construcion in the editing (Joan Sobel)...the design of course...are all first rate.

And, after Tom Ford, the movie really belongs to Colin Firth, who deserves every bit of recognition he is bound to receive.  His is a performance almost too good for the vulgar prizes handed out each spring....but if he wins one of them, I will be cheering as loudly as the rest.