The way that the film is shot and edited, particularly the long-shots, the dramatic use of artificial silences (where the soundtrack is dropped altogether) and the Attenboroughesque cut-to-cut montage of the landscape is a lot like something from Rohmer. A Summer's Tale, in particular. The director uses these techniques in a way which, as in Rohmer, complements the subtleties and natural feeling of the plot itself. There is a smooth marriage of the realistic content and this restrained and unobtrusive visual style. Perhaps only such metaphorical marriages can be so smooth.
Superficially, the story, mise-en-scene and characters also are Rohmeresque. The drama is internal and psychological, the characters are drawn from the upper middle-classes, and they are- as is often the case in Rohmer's films- on holiday; variously enjoying themselves and wondering why they are not, or are incapable, of doing so. It's as though Marie Riviere's character in Rohmer's 'The Green Ray' didn't meet her true love in the train station in Bayonne(?) at the end of the film and is, to heartbreaking effect, trying once more some fifteen years later, post-menopausal, after a disappointing marriage.
Though this is to romanticise the connection too much: Rohmer's film was mysterious, modern fairy-tale about love and its link to private superstitions. Joanna Hogg's film takes place on a rougher plane as earthly and scarred, to use the obvious simile, as the Tuscan fields against which it unfolds. It does successfully what, I think anyway, Michael Haneke's 'The Piano Teacher' failed to do, which is to show the vulnerability of the repressed, middle-aged woman whose world is almost demolished by a manipulative, handsome young man. But it is complex, and what upsets Anne most is not the rejection but the guilt of her subsequent revenge. Haneke used fairy-tale tropes, too- this time, the wicked, domineering, passive-aggressive mother (is this a wider tendency of male European directors?), in a highly stylised film, with a typically strident performance from Isabelle Huppert. Haneke always tries too hard to shock- whether its sniffing spunk-stained tissues in the peep-show or self-mutilation in the bathroom. It's strangely dull. Hogg shows Anne being delicately led astray, with a subtler cruelty: the expression of anticipation on her face when they play the "Pass the Orange" game, alone, will make you wince with your whole body.
The performances are all good. The faults are very minor: the "youngs" are only slightly exaggerated. The husband of Anne's friend seemed potentially more sympathetic- his character might have been better-developed (but perhaps this was deliberate, and he is a "hen-pecked" husband).
Thank you, Ms. Hogg, for a very truthful film.
Superficially, the story, mise-en-scene and characters also are Rohmeresque. The drama is internal and psychological, the characters are drawn from the upper middle-classes, and they are- as is often the case in Rohmer's films- on holiday; variously enjoying themselves and wondering why they are not, or are incapable, of doing so. It's as though Marie Riviere's character in Rohmer's 'The Green Ray' didn't meet her true love in the train station in Bayonne(?) at the end of the film and is, to heartbreaking effect, trying once more some fifteen years later, post-menopausal, after a disappointing marriage.
Though this is to romanticise the connection too much: Rohmer's film was mysterious, modern fairy-tale about love and its link to private superstitions. Joanna Hogg's film takes place on a rougher plane as earthly and scarred, to use the obvious simile, as the Tuscan fields against which it unfolds. It does successfully what, I think anyway, Michael Haneke's 'The Piano Teacher' failed to do, which is to show the vulnerability of the repressed, middle-aged woman whose world is almost demolished by a manipulative, handsome young man. But it is complex, and what upsets Anne most is not the rejection but the guilt of her subsequent revenge. Haneke used fairy-tale tropes, too- this time, the wicked, domineering, passive-aggressive mother (is this a wider tendency of male European directors?), in a highly stylised film, with a typically strident performance from Isabelle Huppert. Haneke always tries too hard to shock- whether its sniffing spunk-stained tissues in the peep-show or self-mutilation in the bathroom. It's strangely dull. Hogg shows Anne being delicately led astray, with a subtler cruelty: the expression of anticipation on her face when they play the "Pass the Orange" game, alone, will make you wince with your whole body.
The performances are all good. The faults are very minor: the "youngs" are only slightly exaggerated. The husband of Anne's friend seemed potentially more sympathetic- his character might have been better-developed (but perhaps this was deliberate, and he is a "hen-pecked" husband).
Thank you, Ms. Hogg, for a very truthful film.