A Single Man
A Single Man has such a simple premise, but one that is so ripe with promise, that it didn’t even need the added attraction of Colin Firth. George is a gay man (Firth) in 1961 who loses his lover, and copes in secret. It sounds sad, and it is. During the height of the Cold War, the precipice of the Cuban Missile Crisis and the tail end of McCarthyism, to be a gay man was to live in and be an object of fear. Through the haze of societal hate and ignorance, from within his ever so tastefully appointed closet, George has a loving partner in Jim (Matthew Goode) until that tragic event. To be compelled to mourn a loss so great in a society that cannot even admit your love, never mind the seriousness of feeling, is lonely and deadening. Invisible Communists, invisible Jews, invisible homosexuals, invisible atheists – a huge segment of the population lived in terror of discovery while the “normals” lived in fear of these unknown monsters. And of course all that terror was manufactured by people who want things a certain way, and is still today. As a professor, George has a platform to teach his students that causes for hatred are not always real, but created – but even safe in his own home, he never really reveals himself to anyone. Even his longtime best friend Charly (Julianne Moore) doesn’t really understand what it is to be a man who loves men. She thinks it’s just a substitute, a phase, a fetish; yet her life was never so normal and happy as his was with Jim.
George’s house is a stunning modernist ramble of minimalist dark wood and glass surrounded by trees – a manly yet delicate structure which gives those inside the illusion of being outdoors and in the open (when they cannot) and yet affording wonderful privacy. It’s a perfect setting. George is careful, meticulous, and of course, inconsolable. His heart is broken literally as well as metaphorically – he pops a Bayer at every tightening twinge in his chest. He cannot mourn his “friend” as one should be able to mourn a spouse – he has no community support, no time off from work, just more to stuff inside himself. Firth carries the weight of George’s loss and his perpetual fear in balance on his face and in his body. When he stumbles across a fellow invisible, his aching to just be able to speak about or to be his real self was so great that my companion and I could only hold our breaths hoping he would do so. When George starts to take his destiny into his own hands (it involves a sleeping bag) it is both heartbreaking and even a little funny in his considerate, not-wanting-to-be-a-nuisance way.
Julianne Moore slathers on some fabulous 1960’s duds and a British accent for her wonderful scene of closeness and distance with Firth. They need and love each other in irreconcilable ways, and these two excellent actors make the most of their moments together. Goode of course is mostly an idealized memory, like any lost loved one, but he’s perfect for it. And yes, you’re seeing Nicholas Hoult from About A Boy looking all devastating in angora in that classroom.
Every clock ticks one more moment in George’s life, one more second since he last had Jim, one more second he has to try and be “George” for everyone else. We get to see a wonderful multitude of fabulous clocks (my favorite is the one in his dashboard) as well as the sartorial delights of 1962. The film was shot with loving, dreamy artistry by Eduard Grau; I have not heard of his previous work but I suspect that won’t be a problem for long. He may have tried a little hard to make this look like A Classic – he shot Firth looking desaturated and then cut to youth or beauty with full dewy color, which was more obvious than necessary – but it’s lovely. The soundtrack too is evocative and dreamy.
First-time director/producer Tom Ford adapted the screenplay from Christopher Isherwood’s novel. His passion for this project is evident by the number of times his name appears in the credits. Ford, a notable fashion designer, clearly knows about look (his menswear line provided Firth’s costumes) but he also has a facility for pace and mood with only a few odd over-arty touches thrown in. Hey can be forgiven for these few (they figure prominently in the preview but serve no real purpose in the narrative) because they are so visually striking but do not interrupt the melancholy tone.
The performances are wonderful, the story is ever so sad and so sweet, and the detail is gorgeous. I dearly hope people can come see it to sympathize with the universal pain and to empathize with these cruel circumstances we have perpetuated in the not-so-distant past.
MPAA Rating R-disturbing images, nudity, sexual content
Release date 12/11/09
Time in minutes 99
Director Tom Ford
Studio Weinstein Company
