The Deep Blue Sea
Directed By:
Terrence Davies
Written By:
Terrence Davies, adapted from the play by Terrence Rattigan
Starring: Rachel
Weisz, Tom Hiddleston, Simon Russell Beale, and Ann Mitchell
Director of Photography: Florian Hoffmeister, Editor: David
Charap, Production Designer: James Merifield
With
the cinema of Terrence Davies, sometimes all it takes is one shot. The British
director can say it all with one marvelous stroke of cinematic precision. In
his latest feature, The Deep Blue Sea,
it comes quite early. During the film’s abstract, almost wordless prologue, we
see at one point the camera swirl around lovers Hester and Freddie, naked in
bed, their bodies so perfectly aligned, they look like two puzzle pieces coming
together. Halfway through the shot, Davies slowly cross-dissolves to the exact
same shot, except we are back in the present, and Hester is alone. At this
point, we don’t know what has happened to Freddie, but we can feel the
tremendous sadness behind the eyes of Hester. She exalts a loss, which we learn
is not one of physical proportions, but actually metaphysical; A love that
simply cannot be kindled, with no hope of coming back.
And
in his first narrative film in over a decade, Davies captures the sublime,
devastating tragedy of love in this adaptation of the play by Terrence Rafferty
set in 1950s London. Davies has often been an autobiographical filmmaker—his
first two features, Distant Voices, Still
Lives and The Long Day Closes,
play more like memory totems (as does his 2008 essay film, Of Time and the City). You get the sense that there is still some
of Davies’s past creeping into The Deep
Blue Sea through the background visuals, but most of the film is dedicated
to these characters, which Davies inhabits with beauty, and devastating
emotions in this day long narrative.
This
includes many flashbacks, none particularly announced, that simply fold into
the narrative. This is most apparent in the first five minutes of the film, as
we watch Hester slowly prepare to kill herself. Played by Rachel Weisz, Hester
slowly prepares the room of which she will turn on the gas, and small memories
jump in and out of this moment. Her first night with her husband Bill (Simon
Russell Beale, an understated gem of an actor), the first words Freddie (Tom
Hiddelston, big and exciting) spoke to her, and that shot of them in bed.
Davies slows down the camera as he shows Hester making small gestures—turning
on the gas, placing the note, closing the blinds—fading to black after each,
giving each moment its own weight with a Bresson-like diligence.
Had
Davies simply ended the film here, The
Deep Blue Sea might have been purely perfect, but Hester sadly survives
thanks to a nosy landlord (and the quality doesn’t so much as dip as extend
slowly). We slowly learn more about the reasons that led to this act, and the
fallout between her and Freddie (as well as Bill). Davies never overemphasizes
anything. His camera is often muted, letting the colors and actors jump more
than his own cinematic prowess. His shots are simple, perfectly placed and
often still. When he does show off, it’s so subdued you might miss it—a slow
tracking shot across a platform on the underground, as we watch the citizens
sing songs of hope as the bombs fall above.
None
of this would be quite effective if Davies wasn’t so natural at bringing out
such high emotions in his actors, yet without emphasizing them through
dialogue. While Hiddelston has a few huge moments, playing off his character’s
uncontrollable emotions, Weisz plays for the small, almost minute details. She
let’s the way she holds a cigarette or the water in her eyes that refuses to fall
out speak for her. Her voice is a quiet whisper, barely audible over the film’s
classical music soundtrack. When she does deliver dialogue, it slays. “Stay
with me just tonight,” she pleads late in the film. She makes this request have
the life or death manner that Hester truly believes.
Whenever
we have another Terrence Davies film, it’s a blessing as from high heaven, and
it’s a shame the director has had to fight so hard to make his films. The craft
in The Deep Blue Sea—the extreme use
of blinding lights, or the majestically flowing camera—is apparent from the
first frame to the last (a mirrored shot no less!). Davies controls this story meticulously,
but he also brings that feel of passion. He may have not lived this story as
some of his other films suggest, he certainly knows the emotions, and conveys
them with a devastating power you might miss if you aren’t looking.
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