A Single Man (2009) – Review

A Single Man is a very stylized, if not personal, film encompassing both beauty and tragedy (a bit like American Beauty, tonally, in its fixation with certain elements) for director Tom Ford. Taking place in the 1960s, the film is shot on a very grainy stock to look like it was made during the period in which it takes place. This stylistic choice makes the film feel grittier seemingly emphasizing the drama on the screen in sort of a subconscious way, while fully immersing the viewer in the time period (which may not be critical to the story, but certainly projects, along with the production design, an intended swagger of both director and Colin Firth’s character (George) on screen). There are a number of almost avant-garde moments in the film that recur throughout: 1) the fascination with the eye, shown mostly in an extreme close-up, 2) an enchantment with youth, shown notably in slow motion tracking shots profiling a neighbor’s young daughter, and 3) the varying degree of color saturation reflecting the mood of the main character. The film as a whole seems to be a deliberation on whether the past, present or future determines the current state of a person. George and Julianne Moore’s character (Charley) linger on the past as their source of happiness – or being that their happiness existed solely in the past, their present is barely tolerable, if even bearable at all. George is so convinced that his life is meaningless in the present that the future is not worth seeing. The film takes place over the stretch of a day; flashbacks intercut the present to tell the full narrative – why the past was so much better. As the day goes on, George seems to be looking for happiness or beauty in the world, something to keep him in the present. When the potential for beauty or happiness or whatever he is looking for comes over him, the film becomes bright and full of color and George or director Ford focuses in on the subject of that beauty (as shown by the close ups of the eye), maybe looking for the source or a connection – eyes are the window to the souls (or so we are told) and they are the main source of human connection and George is so desperate for a connection in the present that he looks intently for it, blocking out everything else and then it is gone, the film becomes desaturated and the color fades away and he continues on with his day. And in this way the film also feels a bit like a Jim Jarmusch film – George going from one encounter to the next, each building upon the last. The fixation George has on the past also extends to youth and innocence. He seems to also linger (as seen in the tracking shots of the neighbor girl) on the element of innocence, something not yet corrupted in the world. A world in which he feels detached from both do to his overall sadness at the death of his partner (for lack of a better word) and the alienation of being a gay man in the era that the film takes place in. He seems to only be saved by the combination of innocence and beauty – as Nicholas Hoult’s Kenny appears to him as something almost pure. Kenny is not afraid in a world in which fear is barring down (think of 1960s cold war America) and looks not to the future or the past, but to the present for happiness, which has a literal and figuratively cleansing effect on George, allowing him to once again feel happiness. The film also has a lot of charm and sharp wit (great joke with Lee Pace) – mostly stemming from George, as his character almost oozes style and allure, which is a great feat being that the character is completely engulfed in debilitating sadness. Tom Ford has emerged with his debut as a fantastically visual and stylistic director. His work here is wonderful to behold as each frame, from the film stock and lighting/post-production work (DP Eduardo Grau’s work also deserves the credit here) to the production design and wardrobe, is meticulously arranged, like a painter filling his canvas, to stimA Single Man is a very stylized, if not personal, film encompassing both beauty and tragedy (a bit like American Beauty, tonally, in its fixation with certain elements) for director Tom Ford. Taking place in the 1960s, the film is shot on a very grainy stock to look like it was made during the period in which it takes place. This stylistic choice makes the film feel grittier seemingly emphasizing the drama on the screen in sort of a subconscious way, while fully immersing the viewer in the time period (which may not be critical to the story, but certainly projects, along with the production design, an intended swagger of both director and Colin Firth’s character (George) on screen). There are a number of almost avant-garde moments in the film that recur throughout: 1) the fascination with the eye, shown mostly in an extreme close-up, 2) an enchantment with youth, shown notably in slow motion tracking shots profiling a neighbor’s young daughter, and 3) the varying degree of color saturation reflecting the mood of the main character. The film as a whole seems to be a deliberation on whether the past, present or future determines the current state of a person. George and Julianne Moore’s character (Charley) linger on the past as their source of happiness – or being that their happiness existed solely in the past, their present is barely tolerable, if even bearable at all. George is so convinced that his life is meaningless in the present that the future is not worth seeing. The film takes place over the stretch of a day; flashbacks intercut the present to tell the full narrative – why the past was so much better. As the day goes on, George seems to be looking for happiness or beauty in the world, something to keep him in the present. When the potential for beauty or happiness or whatever he is looking for comes over him, the film becomes bright and full of color and George or director Ford focuses in on the subject of that beauty (as shown by the close ups of the eye), maybe looking for the source or a connection – eyes are the window to the souls (or so we are told) and they are the main source of human connection and George is so desperate for a connection in the present that he looks intently for it, blocking out everything else and then it is gone, the film becomes desaturated and the color fades away and he continues on with his day. And in this way the film also feels a bit like a Jim Jarmusch film – George going from one encounter to the next, each building upon the last. The fixation George has on the past also extends to youth and innocence. He seems to also linger (as seen in the tracking shots of the neighbor girl) on the element of innocence, something not yet corrupted in the world. A world in which he feels detached from both do to his overall sadness at the death of his partner (for lack of a better word) and the alienation of being a gay man in the era that the film takes place in. He seems to only be saved by the combination of innocence and beauty – as Nicholas Hoult’s Kenny appears to him as something almost pure. Kenny is not afraid in a world in which fear is barring down (think of 1960s cold war America) and looks not to the future or the past, but to the present for happiness, which has a literal and figuratively cleansing effect on George, allowing him to once again feel happiness. The film also has a lot of charm and sharp wit (great joke with Lee Pace) – mostly stemming from George, as his character almost oozes style and allure, which is a great feat being that the character is completely engulfed in debilitating sadness. Tom Ford has emerged with his debut as a fantastically visual and stylistic director. His work here is wonderful to behold as each frame, from the film stock and lighting/post-production work (DP Eduardo Grau’s work also deserves the credit here) to the production design and wardrobe, is meticulously arranged, like a painter filling his canvas, to stimulate and evoke specific emotion from the viewer. He has also succeeded here with his narrative storytelling and garnering fine performances for his actors. The film flows well, and while at times gets hung up on the stylistic, sort of whimsical aspects of the film, it still play fluidly, and certainly captivates the viewer. The cast as a whole is quite good, most actors having limited work to do, but even in their smaller bits they do fine work. Julianne Moore and Nicholas Hoult are strong in their supporting roles, but the film belongs to Colin Firth. He is simply magnificent. A Single Man is overall visually stunning, and dramatically engrossing. 8/10ulate and evoke specific emotion from the viewer. He has also succeeded here with his narrative storytelling and garnering fine performances for his actors. The film flows well, and while at times gets hung up on the stylistic, sort of whimsical aspects of the film, it still play fluidly, and certainly captivates the viewer. The cast as a whole is quite good, most actors having limited work to do, but even in their smaller bits they do fine work. Julianne Moore and Nicholas Hoult are strong in their supporting roles, but the film belongs to Colin Firth. He is simply magnificent. A Single Man is overall visually stunning, and dramatically engrossing. 8/10