Tom Ford’s enthralling, highly stylized adaptation of Christopher Isherwood’s novel “A Single Man” may be the best queer film of the year. This dazzlingly directed, photographed and acted movie will cause viewers to stagger out of the theater, having been completely spellbound, as if awoken from a dream.
In fact, the film opens with George Falconer (Colin Firth) waking from a dream. There is an inky stain in the bed next to him, and he begins a monologue about getting up, going about his routine and bemoaning the time needed for him to “become George.” It is a masterful opening sequence, beautifully shot and edited, revealing much about the film’s ordered but anguished character. This sequence ends with George hoping to “get through the goddamn day,” an agenda that forms the crux of the film.
“A Single Man” presents 24 hours in George’s life. The year is 1962, and the place is Los Angeles. He is a professor of English who lives in a gorgeous glass house but feels “invisible” in society. As George starts his day, he spies on his neighbors, appearing both jealous and contemptuous of their easy domesticity. This queer man can’t live openly, and is grieving over the untimely death of his partner Jim (Matthew Goode). An early scene in which George recalls getting the news of his lover’s death is magnificent — Firth quivers his lip in despair, making his pain palpable.
George is adrift — the opening credit sequence that shows his naked body floating/drowning in water conveys this theme eloquently — and he has begun preparations to end his life. As he puts his affairs in order, a series of encounters magnify his emotions.
His most canny meeting is with Kenny (Nicholas Hoult; see sidebar), a student who finds George quietly fascinating. Their initial conversation, about mescaline and life’s little gifts, is curious and slightly unsettling for George. However, there is something about this handsome young man that intrigues him, and he may be George’s unexpected savior.
Other episodes range from the surreal — a strange conversation with his neighbor’s inquisitive daughter at the bank — to the seductive. An exchange George has with Carlos (Jon Kortajarena), a Spaniard he meets outside a liquor store, drips with erotic promise, and watching these two men share conversation and a cigarette on a vintage Mercedes under the eyes from a “Psycho” billboard is one of the film’s highlights.
Ford focuses on eyes and clocks throughout the film, freighting these ominous images with tremendous meaning. If the clocks indicate the measurement of time, and how quickly and easily life can slip away, the various pairs of eyes observe George’s behavior as he allows this to happen.
“A Single Man” is full of sensory impressions: Another fine moment has George sniffing a stranger’s dog because it reminds him of a pet he and Jim owned. Such talismans and triggers appear throughout the film as Jim’s story is revealed in flashbacks from the end of his life to the night he and George first met. The contrast of these scenes with those of George preparing to end his life is striking and effective.
As a filmmaker, Ford resists the temptation to get pretentious despite various stylistic flourishes. He may use silence to communicate clarity or big glossy visuals to convey isolation, but these scenes only enhance the meaning of the moment. An erotic sequence featuring sweaty, glistening torsos of young men playing tennis reveals how little attention George gives his colleagues. Likewise, scenes of George and Jim discussing their relationship, whether sharing a couch or a mountainside, are intimate and cozy.
Ford also evokes a powerful emotion when George spends time with his friend Charlotte (Julianne Moore). An arty sequence has him running to her for solace upon learning of Jim’s death. Later, these friends meet for drinks and dinner before they do some powerful soul searching.
“A Single Man” tackles some weighty issues about life and death, love and memory. The film may be visually dynamic, but its real force comes from Firth’s extraordinary performance. As George, Firth is a revelation here, embodying this tortured soul with just the right amount of quiet despair and righteous anger. It is a remarkable portrait of grief. Firth is aided immensely by Moore’s fantastic turn as Charlotte, a party girl who must face up to reality. Moore is convincing with her British accent, and she looks sensational. In support, Nicholas Hoult is captivating as Kenny. His dashing good looks and easygoing nature make him a disarming heartbreaker.
The film also benefits from the excellent script, which Ford adapted with David Scearce. While there are many astute observations about life and love, what most resonates is a speech Firth gives in class about the fear majorities have when a minority group becomes visible. As George struggles for his own visibility through “A Single Man,” the speech takes on even greater meaning.
Ford’s entire film is just as potent, right up to the breathtaking denouement.
Newcomer Hoult sizzles as ‘guardian angel’
In “A Single Man,” George (Colin Firth) is the title character, a man grieving for the loss of his lover Jim (Matthew Goode). On the day the film takes place, Kenny (Nicholas Hoult), a student of his, starts paying attention to George, chatting him up and eventually seeking him out at home, where the two men develop a bond that may become sexual. Hoult spoke over the phone about his role, working with designer-turned-director Tom Ford and skinny-dipping with Colin Firth.
PGN: What attracted you to the role of Kenny? NH: I liked his outlook on life. As I read [the script] — I hadn’t read the book — I got a sense of Kenny and his voice.
PGN: What do you think attracts Kenny to George? This is a bit of an inappropriate student/professor relationship … NH: It’s an intellectual thing. Nobody understands Kenny, or thinks on his level. He thinks there is a connection with George. He’s striving for that [bond], and there are undertones of sexual curiousness. He wants to connect with George who [is mourning] a connection with someone. PGN: Do you see Kenny as George’s savior? NH: He’s a guardian angel. He is someone who is interested in George, and the only person who picks up that something’s not right with him. He looks out for him. Kenny is an acute observer of character. It can be seen that Kenny’s naïve and that he does not know what he’s doing, or he is out to seduce George. People can take what they want from the film.
PGN: Do you prefer doing period pieces like “A Single Man,” and your previous film, “Wah-Wah”? How do you create a character that is far removed from your life and your experience? NH: [Laughs.] I’m not a fan of technology and how it’s all advancing. I’m nostalgic. I do research to learn about the environment, no matter when it’s set. I do like doing period pieces.
PGN: What kind of research did you do for Kenny? NH: I started a week before filming began. One of the key things was the book “The Power of Now,” about not worrying about the past or fretting about the future, but living in the present. A lot of the [details] were in “A Single Man’s” script: You don’t have to say George is lonely sitting in a glass house to know that he is.
PGN: What about doing an American accent? It’s said that British actors can do American accents well, but Americans can’t do British ones well — though Julianne Moore acquits herself quite nicely in the film. NH: It’s tough to say. I don’t know. Did it sound right? I didn’t have any complaints. The accent comes with the character. I talk in it all day. I find that if you worry too much about it, you start to get into trouble.
PGN: You were dressed fabulously in the film. What did you think of the costumes? Were they close to your style? NH: [Laughs.] The costumes were fantastic. Kenny is very light — he’s a shining light/guardian angel. I don’t think I could get away with all white [he wears] with my pale skin.
PGN: You are also undressed fabulously in the film. What can you say about doing the nude swimming scenes? NH: I don’t find it awkward in the moment. The awkwardness comes when they say cut and you are yourself again. For the skinny-dipping scene, the water was very cold. I got ash in my eye on the third take, so we stopped filming. Colin thanked me, because he didn’t want to go back into the cold water.
PGN: Speaking of Colin, how did you work with him on the relationship between your characters? NH: The process between Colin and I was very natural. If you plan too much, it feels like you are manipulating the audience. The contrast between them was great — you can feel George is attracted to the vitality in Kenny.
PGN: What was it like working with Tom Ford? NH: Tom was, obviously, very precise [in] the script. We shot it in 21 days. He had a great vision, and understands how to portray this. It’s so personal to him. It’s a love letter to his partner, Richard Buckley. You can feel the passion. He had a perfect method of helping out the actors and letting them be free to experiment — take a different emphasis on a line or a look or a beat. He wasn’t into over-directing.
PGN: You have an exchange with George about life’s little gift. What do you appreciate in life? NH: I take from the film what George is experiencing — that he is noticing things more vibrantly than normal. I try to pick up things you take for granted, and appreciate the little thing in life, such as the sense of smell. Smelling the roses, as it were.