Submarine
is a gorgeously shot if emotionally distant coming-of-age tale in the tradition of Wes Anderson’s
Rushmore
and Bill Forsyth’s 1981 film
Gregory’s Girl. It centers upon Oliver Tate (Craig Roberts), an awkward, idiosyncratic 15 year-old living in Wales with his father Lloyd—a withdrawn marine biologist (Noah Taylor) and mother Jill—a demure office-worker (Sally Hawkins). Oliver falls hard for feisty classmate Jordana (Yasmin Paige) who is much more seasoned than her peers, stricken with eczema and somewhat of an outcast. Oliver and Jordana quickly fall in love. Meanwhile Oliver worries about his mother’s redeveloping feelings for their new neighbor and Jill’s old flame Graham (Paddy Considine), a sleazy mystic with a mullet. As things become more emotionally involved, Oliver intentionally attempts to sabotage Jill’s relationship with Graham, while unintentionally sabotaging his own with Jordana.
The strengths of
Submarine lie in its visual style. Even though this is television director Richard Ayoade’s debut, the film has a brazen, accomplished aesthetic quality. The atmosphere of
Wales is richly portrayed in the sounds of crashing waves and the foggy, seaside setting. Ironically
Submarine employs a visual and symbolic technique that is important to Graham’s mantra: using color as a means of seeing and understanding others. Jordana is passionate red in her heart-shaped glasses and coat that recalls Christina Ricci’s Little Red Riding Hood poncho in Ang Lee’s
The Ice Storm
. Oliver is a cool, lovesick blue (in his dolphin print sheets and
Harold & Maude
-esque navy toggle coat). Oliver humorously notes that if his father was a color “it would be ochre or eggshell.” In the spirit of autumnal-styled films of the 70s, cinematographer Erik Wilson creates a moody, beautiful look. I kept getting the chilly retro vibes of
The Ice Storm and
Love Story
. Ayoade notes, “Nestor Almendros … was the main influence in that he doesn’t really light. It’s natural light, often shooting at dawn or dusk and just trying to be simple with it; not being fancy, not having lots of big film lights… We were in Wales and it was autumn and it was freezing cold so there was a very specific kind of watery, thin light.” Even though the visuals are distinctly vintage,
Submarine doesn’t really seem to take place in a particular era. Memorable hairstyles are on parade: Oliver’s Harold-ish fringe, Jordana’s boxy black hair and bangs, the bushy mane of bullied Abby Smuts, Graham’s mullet, and primly-cut Jill who longs for her lengthy Denueve locks of yesteryear. In tradition of Wes Anderson, the costumes by Charlotte Walter are not only notable for their use of color and pointedness about character but also their distinctiveness (the characters rarely change out of them). The production design is also well-honed, knowing and eclectic—from the bubbling aquarium in the Tate household to Oliver’s classroom adorned with photos of dead writers. In perfect harmony with Oliver’s grandiose opinion of himself, he is introduced in the same profile position as a picture of Shakespeare above him. Even while referencing mix tapes,
Crocodile Dundee
and school discos, the film pays homage to a certain kind of
Paper Chase
, prep school timelessness: the film’s look could be 1986 or Urban Outfitters 2011. Oliver’s loving rush of Super 8s of Jordana frolicking along the beach reminded me of purposely blurry and dark snapshots of
Brooklyn hipster friends on Facebook. Something that is endearing and lovely but also somewhat cloying. The editing too by Nick Fenton and Academy Award winner (for
Slumdog Millionaire
) Chris Dickens is quite snappy and sophisticated. The opening sequences in particular are enjoyably and humorously edited with freeze frames in the same manner of Alexander Payne’s
Election
.
The music too is a highlight.
Andrew Hewitt’s original score
is quite rich. Instead of folksy doo-dee-doo with a dash of xylophone—a kind of whimsical score frequently used in quirky indie comedies of late like
Juno
, Hewitt uses lush orchestrations. Jordana’s musical cue, full of pipe organs, is both gothic and romantic. The dense visuals and the loftiness of the score did help move the film along even if the story at times felt thin. The original songs by Arctic Monkeys front man Alex Turner are tender, fitting and a bit Nick Drake-esque. The closing credits are accompanied by
“Piledriver Waltz,” an appropriately woozy (it changes time signatures from standard to ¾ waltz mode) love song that reflects the unsteadiness of Oliver’s character and emotions.
Coming-of-age tales are often stymied by an insistence of being too within the young character’s frame of mind (for example, the creakily presented plot twist in an otherwise perfect
An Education
). It becomes even more difficult to connect when a film is less concerned with realism and more with style. Because
Submarine is so wonderfully detailed and the actors are so good and well-cast, it’s a letdown that
Submarine’s script is so thin. The forlorn, distant bearded father and the aquatic themes kept reminding me of Noah Baumbach’s
The Squid & the Whale
, which seemed to me a more expansive and moving portrait of a brittle family, going in and out of various points of view.
Submarine admirably but unavailingly remains within the confines of young Oliver’s emotionally limited psyche. He is unable, for example, to empathize with the sickness of Jordana’s mother. Feeling left out, he goes to great and unbelievably caustic lengths (attempts to poison her dog for example), to win back Jordana’s affection and attention. It’s in this second half where Oliver’s unconvincing antics become tiresome. Graham’s sleazy psychic character (a la Patrick Swayze’s motivational speaker in
Donnie Darko
) remains quite cardboard by the story’s end—disappointing since Paddy Considine’s performance calls for something much more layered. It’s difficult to believe Jill’s attraction towards him when Graham is such a caricature. Abby Smuts piqued my interest as a potentially compelling character, especially because she’s so vividly introduced (in freeze frame, seconds before falling into water—one of the most memorable shots of the picture), but the film—and Oliver—quickly dispose of her. Also, sudden bursts of rapid fire dialogue delivered by pale young men in a flat key has become such a cliché of teen angst tales (and television commercials) that it often took me out of the picture.
Even if the film often favors montages and precocious Oliver voice-overs over intimate scenes, there is enough comedy, nuanced performances, and much to admire about Ayoade’s inventive direction to fill Oliver’s emotional void.
) background as a graphic and commercial artist shapes the visual wonder in his brilliantly crafted and emotionally deft new film Beginners. In some lovely moments, strung along with Ewan McGregor's (one of his most sensitive and best performances) voice-over, Mills collages images in RedOne: a trash bag against a black background, a soon-to-be-cancelled credit card (the banal debris of death oft-ignored in movies), or a quarter, or the colors of the rainbow flag, or magazine ads ("this is what sadness looked like" in a particular year). It isn't necessarily important to know Mills's background, but it does add an interesting layer to the film. "This filmmaking style is really me," he notes, "I went to art school, not film school, so I have that language. I think like that, but you don’t have the nerve to ask to do it in a feature. I do think I was in a life crisis when I wrote the film. My second parent had just died, I was 38 years old. I wasn’t at all sure that the world would let me make this film. But it’s the film I’ve always dreamed of making. I put all the elements of my life into the film." Beginners
is knowingly cinematic (the winningly adorable terrier in the film has subtitles), sometimes coy, but a very moving memory mood piece of starting over in many different ways.
was no fluke) in Chaplin drag. Anna, unable to speak due to laryngitis, charmingly and movingly flirts with Oliver via notepad. The film moves back and forth through this budding romance and Oliver's memories of his father's last days. Mills is adept and confident in not changing film stock--something that keeps the unusual structure of the film kinetic and keenly alive. Mills, Plummer and McGregor's exquisitely subtle reactions are particularly poignant in showing Hal's earnest and exhilarating journey as a newly out man in his seventies. Hal dates a younger man (Gordon Visnjic, who does his best with one of the film's weaker characters), binge-shops at Staples and bookstores, stuffs envelopes for a gay congressman, has movie nights with gay friends (to revel in a revolution he missed out on by watching of all appropriately earnest things, The Times of Harvey Milk
), and dons a dated, Boys in the Band
kind of fashion: scarves, a purple sweater (Oliver continuously mixes up what clothes were worn in the important life-changing moments). Both Hal and Anna remind Oliver of his late mother. Played wonderfully by Mary Page Keller, the strength, suffering and intelligence of Oliver's mother comes through in some of the films most marvelous moments (the droll and quirky ways she behaves in an art museum, for instance).
's Ennis and Jack would have been happily-ever-after had they just moved to San Francisco). Much credit goes to the remarkable editing by Olivier Bugge Coutté and the beautiful photography by Kaspen Tuxen. The score
and the carefully chosen piano rags give the film a wistful and timeless Woody Allen patina. The nonlinear fashion may prove a bit of a strain for audiences and the enormous emotional depth of Plummer's performance may overshadow the subtleties of those around him. I am happy though to see a film that doesn't lose the person behind it: Mills and his cast and crew have created a stirring elegy.
