Take This Waltz Written and Directed by Sarah Polley Staring: Michelle Williams, Seth Rogen, Luke Kirby and Sarah Silverman
Reviewed by: Mitchell Rhodes
Take This Waltz debuted at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2011, and I've been waiting to see it ever since. Finally, it's been released in Canada, and I saw it Friday, June 29 at the AMC Forum in Montreal.
In my opinion, Polley's breakthrough as an actor came in the Adam Egoyan film, The Sweet Hereafter (1997). Her directorial feature film debut, Away from Her (2006) received critical acclaim and many awards. I saw a screening of that film at the Vancouver International Film Festival with Polley inconspicuously standing at the back of theatre, presumably gauging the audience's reaction. She humbly accepted my congratulations at her effort and I've been a fan ever since.
Polley's sophomore directorial offering feels more like a first film because it plays as if it's deeply personal. She also brings Toronto to life with bright-saturated colours and beautiful street and beachfront settings.
The expressed theme of the film is exploring the gap—that potentially terrifying space between things, places, or more importantly commitment and relationships. This theme arises again and again throughout the film.
Whether it's between Geraldine's (Silverman) sobriety and drunkenness or Margot's (Williams) neurotic fear of changing planes between two connecting flights (requiring wheelchair assistance even though she's not disabled) or the anxious and confusing space that exists between the love of a husband, Lou (Rogen), and the love of a new potential romantic and erotic partner, Daniel (Kirby), we are always in the gap—never firmly on one side or the other.
Spoiler Alert #1
If I have one complaint about the film it's the shallow aspect of Lou, Margot's husband. Lou's devotion to chicken recipes (he's writing a cookbook) and his cutsy-wootsy routine both romantically and in the bedroom makes it all to easy to predict and then justify Margot's decision to leave him even though she remained sexually faithful up to that point.
Good writing/directing takes characters to the "end of their rope" and I'm not convinced that Polley takes Margot or Lou to such places. Perhaps it's Polley's real life divorce in 2008 that blocked her from doing so; letting this film play the way it felt for her rather than doing what best suited the characters in their circumstance. Polley vehemently denies any connection between this film and her real life and so we'll not stoop to speculative gossip here.
At a deeper philosophical level the film represents the pervasive human condition of union and separation expressed in the context of love—Oneness versus duality. Is love something you 'fall into,' if you are lucky, or does it take knowledge and effort? Is love simple, it's finding the right object (person) that's difficult? Or is love about faculty—an ability and capacity to love oneself and thus others as well?
As Margot is "falling in" love with Daniel, the object her love, a pivotal scene takes place on a Scrambler ride to the tune of Video Killed the Radio Star. The slow motion, the lights, the music, and the audience's point of view on the characters all create the impression of closing the gap. Then the ride abruptly ends. The music stops, the lights go up and in the faces of Margot and Daniel we see terror—a gap even bigger than before.
(Spoiler alert #2)
The film begins and ends with the same scene. It's with Daniel. Until this point, and without our knowing it, the entire film is a flash back. The audience has been in the gap with Margot along. And yet there is more. In the film's final scene we see Margot again on the Scrambler— this time she rides alone.
Is this scene is based in reality or is it Margot's fantasy or a daydream? Ultimately, that's not important. What's important is whether Margot has found the capacity to love herself and others. Or, is she back to where she began, where we began—in the gap? It's ambiguous and left for you to decide.
Reviewed by: Mitchell Rhodes
Take This Waltz debuted at the Toronto International Film Festival in September 2011, and I've been waiting to see it ever since. Finally, it's been released in Canada, and I saw it Friday, June 29 at the AMC Forum in Montreal.
In my opinion, Polley's breakthrough as an actor came in the Adam Egoyan film, The Sweet Hereafter (1997). Her directorial feature film debut, Away from Her (2006) received critical acclaim and many awards. I saw a screening of that film at the Vancouver International Film Festival with Polley inconspicuously standing at the back of theatre, presumably gauging the audience's reaction. She humbly accepted my congratulations at her effort and I've been a fan ever since.
Polley's sophomore directorial offering feels more like a first film because it plays as if it's deeply personal. She also brings Toronto to life with bright-saturated colours and beautiful street and beachfront settings.
The expressed theme of the film is exploring the gap—that potentially terrifying space between things, places, or more importantly commitment and relationships. This theme arises again and again throughout the film.
Whether it's between Geraldine's (Silverman) sobriety and drunkenness or Margot's (Williams) neurotic fear of changing planes between two connecting flights (requiring wheelchair assistance even though she's not disabled) or the anxious and confusing space that exists between the love of a husband, Lou (Rogen), and the love of a new potential romantic and erotic partner, Daniel (Kirby), we are always in the gap—never firmly on one side or the other.
Spoiler Alert #1
If I have one complaint about the film it's the shallow aspect of Lou, Margot's husband. Lou's devotion to chicken recipes (he's writing a cookbook) and his cutsy-wootsy routine both romantically and in the bedroom makes it all to easy to predict and then justify Margot's decision to leave him even though she remained sexually faithful up to that point.
Good writing/directing takes characters to the "end of their rope" and I'm not convinced that Polley takes Margot or Lou to such places. Perhaps it's Polley's real life divorce in 2008 that blocked her from doing so; letting this film play the way it felt for her rather than doing what best suited the characters in their circumstance. Polley vehemently denies any connection between this film and her real life and so we'll not stoop to speculative gossip here.
At a deeper philosophical level the film represents the pervasive human condition of union and separation expressed in the context of love—Oneness versus duality. Is love something you 'fall into,' if you are lucky, or does it take knowledge and effort? Is love simple, it's finding the right object (person) that's difficult? Or is love about faculty—an ability and capacity to love oneself and thus others as well?
As Margot is "falling in" love with Daniel, the object her love, a pivotal scene takes place on a Scrambler ride to the tune of Video Killed the Radio Star. The slow motion, the lights, the music, and the audience's point of view on the characters all create the impression of closing the gap. Then the ride abruptly ends. The music stops, the lights go up and in the faces of Margot and Daniel we see terror—a gap even bigger than before.
(Spoiler alert #2)
The film begins and ends with the same scene. It's with Daniel. Until this point, and without our knowing it, the entire film is a flash back. The audience has been in the gap with Margot along. And yet there is more. In the film's final scene we see Margot again on the Scrambler— this time she rides alone.
Is this scene is based in reality or is it Margot's fantasy or a daydream? Ultimately, that's not important. What's important is whether Margot has found the capacity to love herself and others. Or, is she back to where she began, where we began—in the gap? It's ambiguous and left for you to decide.