Movie Drama

Films are my escape and my refuge. My only major extravagance is a monthly subscription card that allows me to attend as many films in a month as I like at one particular chain. It’s rare for me not to see enough films in a month to make the cost entirely worth it. And I love the cinema – with the exception of horror films (which inevitably give me nightmares) I’ll watch almost anything. I see great films and awful films, juvenile trivia, animated extravaganzas and serious drama, in English, Italian, French, German, or any other language they care to make it in. One day in the distant future, once I’m finished with the main phase of my working life, I’d like to produce films – it’s been a quiet ambition since I was about 14. Today, with all the people I might otherwise have called for company out of town for the long weekend, with intermittent rain, grey skies, and not much to do, at the end of two very busy and difficult weeks filled with too many rejections on too many levels, I decided to make an afternoon of it at the cinema. Firstly, ‘The Blind Side’ – had to see Sandra Bullock’s Oscar-winning performance. It was impressive, like she’d finally grown out of being the ingénue she’s played at some level in so many films (some of which I love- ‘While you were sleeping’ is required Christmas viewing in my book) and graduated to full leading-lady status in a role requiring more than looking good, and arguing with the handsome, but exasperating, man she will eventually kiss as the credits roll. The film itself; moving, but slick, and a little too ‘shiny’. Very well done, but a bit too perfect. Then, as I thought, an antidote - ‘Remember Me’ – it’s been advertised in such a way as to appear a romantic comedy of sorts – perhaps a little more thoughtful than most – but still essentially light-hearted. And besides, I am female, and any film that has both Robert Pattinson and Pierce Brosnan in it has got to be easy on the eye and good for the feminine soul! It also stars Lena Olin, and she always chooses interesting films.

Sitting waiting for the film to start, I mused rather cynically on the cleverness of the audience-attraction technique. Pattinson and Brosnan for the girls – mother/daughter pairings, friends out for a ‘girly’ film, and the inevitable packs of Twilight fans; then Emilie de Ravin – the subject of many of my male friends’ ‘Lost’ (and occasionally ‘Roswell’) fantasies, to pull in the boyfriends who might otherwise be deeply reluctant to escort their girlfriends to drool over another man, albeit an entirely inaccessible film star; and Olin for the more mature and discerning male visitor, and those who appreciate consistently excellent acting and interesting choices. I could not have been more wrong in my expectations, except for the quality of the acting, which was uniformly superb, nothing was as I anticipated. I should, perhaps, have been tipped off by the title – the phrase is not exactly associated with light and happy things. Those who intend to see the film, and don’t want the experienced spoiled should now skip to the last paragraph of this post, but a word of warning – please take tissues with you when you go, and do not expect to walk out of the cinema indifferent in any way.

It is one of the most subtle films I’ve seen in a very long time. Even when being obvious it manages to be subtle. I didn’t clock the name of the director, but I will certainly be IMDb-ing later to find out. With stars as publicised and omni-present as Pattinson in particular (his face is on virtually every bus, phone box and tube station wall in London (and Paris) at the moment, which can’t be a comfortable way to live life) it’s difficult to achieve a sufficient suspension of reality to completely dissociate the star from the character being played. No matter how good the acting, a little piece of one’s brain keeps on saying “that’s Robert Pattinson, playing Tyler” or “Meryl Streep, playing Julia Childs” – there’s a level at which someone that famous will always be themselves in our conscious thoughts. In this film, somehow it doesn’t matter. Every tiny nuance – physical, verbal, or facial – is so acutely observed and immaculately timed, across the entire cast, that the names of the characters, and consequently, all that the audience consciously knows of the actors, becomes utterly irrelevant. Another person to IMDb – the girl who played the younger sister gave the most subtle and moving performance I’ve ever seen from a child actor, and she could very easily have been a false note in a production such as this, surrounded by actors of extraordinary talent.

As a study of grief, of people damaged by circumstances outwith their control, it’s outstanding. The first hints of healing that begin to show towards the end of the film make the utterly unexpected and shocking denouement even more tragic. I left the cinema in a state of shock. Although not ostensibly primarily a 9/11 film, to me, it’s probably the best of the films inspired by, or referencing, that hideous day – emphasising inescapably the normalcy of the victims on that day – not so much martyrs, with the faceless heroism that implies, but real people, damaged people, humans with their own histories, many very imperfect, and their own struggles with this often painful paradox we call the human condition – what we love most is often what hurts us most deeply. Fate, blind chance, the unpredictability, and fragility, of life – these things are explored more deeply than I’ve seen in a film for a long time, and even as I write this, many things that seemed trivial, or charming, or merely plot devices, are coming back to me in light of the conclusion as unbearably significant. I will have to see it again, probably several times, in order to fully appreciate the quiet extraordinariness of this film. Frankly, I can’t quite believe it got made – it’s far too real, too rough and too intelligent for the Hollywood production line that seems to control so much of what makes it into cinemas now – slick, polished, sometimes very good, but rarely so brutally honest. Sometimes ugly, sometimes tormented, sometimes charming, humorous, often shocking for a whole range of exactly the right reasons. I was stunned. It is not comfortable watching. I am sure many will hate it – because it’s not what they expect, because it forces them to examine the honest truth of misery, simply because it lacks the Hollywood sugar-coating we have come to expect from much mainstream cinema.

Enormous kudos to all involved, and to Pattinson in particular – this film, for which I note he was Executive Producer as well as star – must have presented an enormous challenge, but also an enormous risk. His teen fans, and not-so-teen fans, will not expect to see him like this. Don’t get me wrong – I enjoyed Twilight , and will undoubtedly go to see Eclipse and Breaking Dawn when they come out. I will probably enjoy them very much, especially if directors have been hired who can see past the ‘teen appeal’ to the core of the books’ emotional life and bring that to screen in the way that Catherine Hardwicke did (I did not admire the film of New Moon particularly – it treated an emotionally traumatic story in too juvenile and ‘surface’ a manner - Hollywood money and production values got in the way a bit too much – I preferred the book). Enjoyment or not, that level of fame, and the no-doubt flattering offers that must come along with it, would be hard to resist – many, many easy choices on offer. What impresses me is that the man in question has made, and continues to make, the difficult choices beyond being Edward Cullen – a flamboyant homosexual artist (very risky choice for a teen ‘heart-throb’), a young man sleeping his way through the society cougars of a literary classic, a lost boy, almost incapacitated by grief and anger – the boardroom showdown between Tyler and his estranged father is a scene that will stay with me for quite some time as one of the most emotionally powerful scenes I’ve seen on film.

Don’t go expecting hearts and flowers, or a cheap laugh – there are funny moments aplenty, but this is not the film to send you from the cinema with a spring in your step and a sappy smile on your face. But do go to see it, be patient with what seems like a slow burn, and a lot of less-than-crucial detail – I promise it will all matter in the end. I will remember ‘Remember Me’ for a very long time, and if you like this blog, I suspect you will too.