Closer

Closer is a movie that is clearly adapted from a play, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It tells the story of various pretty people who can’t seem to stop falling on one another’s genitals. They go through painful break-ups and bristling challenges. They are all very strange people, but then, people ARE strange – and when neurotics surround themselves with other neurotics, the pseudo-intellectual discussions that take place in the film don’t seem all that unrealistic.

Indeed, the exchanges between people who are very familiar with one another ring true…even if strangers talking to one another like they do in Closer would mostly be met with funny looks and aversion. Essentially, the writer’s identity is too strong, and keeps coming through – the characters are just him with some superficial traits overlaid. And you can just imagine him by turns being horny and lonely and writing his fantasies, and remembering hard break-ups and transcribing them. Actually, Clive Owen’s break-up scene with Julia Roberts actually reminded me of how I broke up with Nikky, with added shouting and aggression – and how I’d never break up with someone again: in a barrage of questions designed to inspire guilty. We were self-destructive, too. At least we learned from it!

The truth is, it was all rather simple, which made it rather dull. People CAN be like these dreadful human beings, and communicate as they do. I have a feeling I was supposed to be shocked or intrigued by these exotic creatures. But in the end, I was mildly entertained by these flawed, very human characters, but also rather bored. It was all very predictable, really.