Julianne Moore's lazy acting asssignment!
A filmgoer has only to spy the producer credit for "A Single Man" to fathom how this arty film - so full of promise - ended up such a slip-shod mess from a critical point of view.
Tom Ford, after all, is a celebrated fashion designer that normally gives sheer beauty form.
Unfortunately, the slick feature - starring Colin Firth - is all style and no substance.
At times, it appears to be an overly-long sensual foray into male homoerotica, with all the arousing qualities of a Calvin Klein commercial
Mr. Ford has intriquing creative ideas, but without a film background to build on, they end up afloat on a sea of uncertainty.
I surmise that Ford is a big fan of foreign film directors such as Fellini & Antonioni.
Indeed, in the final analysis - "A Single Man" - ended up a potpourri of film aesthetics thrown together on the heels of being snatched and grabbed from here and there.
But, without any formal training or movie-making sensibilities to draw on, the Weinstein boutique entry doesn't manage to gel into any cohesive message that resonates even a smidgen.
Although the dialogue between characters tries desperately to be profound - even thought-provoking at times - the truth of the matter is this.
Folks just don't talk like that in daily conversations in real life.
In the mouths of these babes, words are spoken for effect, not because the character actually believes what they are nattering about.
I'd prefer that a subject in a film speak from the heart (or not, if the characterization requires it) rather than have them talk "at" me to get the screenwriter's point across by banging me over the head with it in an unimaginative pedestrian way.
It would be unfair of me to label - "A Single Man" - a total disaster, though, because it has its precious touching moments.
Colin Firth is remarkable in a nuanced performance; a young actor in the role of a coming-of-age student is outstanding in a tough role, too.
But, Ford's sexual fantasies often distract and take away from what he's trying to accomplish.
For example, two characters artfully-positioned on the beach in one scene, evoke a sensual mood worthy of an ad for Men's cologne, rather than what was ultimately intended (an intimate moment between two lovers).
In one hilarous scene - as Firth's character drives off in his Mercedes - the camera catches the object of his curiosity on a bike with butt prominently turned toward the lens of the camera.
Obviously, Ford is an "ass" man turned on by young dudes on fast bikes in tight jeans.
One plot line is so preposterous that it stretches one's credulity to think for one moment that the scenario could have actually ever gone down.
For example, when a student flirts with the Professor on campus, Firth's character doesn't even recoil or caution the lad about the propriety of a teacher engaging in such conduct in front of other students or faculty.
The question isn't even raised.
In today's more lax hang-out society the moment might not raise an eyebrow.
But in the sixties, well, I don't think so.
In a nutshell, the failure of Ford to recognize this, underscores just how sloppy (undisciplined) or downright stupid he is for failing to research the subject matter more thoroughly.
The respected fashion icon probably believes in the tooth fairy, too.
Calvin Klein inspiration!
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