In 2010, writer/director Derek Cianfrance dropped a hot-blooded cinematic bombshell on discerning audiences looking for a challenging, unquestionably mature look at a marriage coming apart at the seams. Clearly inspired by the freewheeling yet emotionally rigorous work of 60’s and 70’s era John Cassavettes, Cianfrance and his co-writers Joey Curtis and Cami Delavigne cooked up a stormy two-hander for stars Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams, both of whom deliver tragically believable performances that should have netted them every single acting award that year; only Williams would be recognized by the Academy with a nomination. Named after the Tom Waits album, Blue Valentine premiered as a competition item at the 26th Sundance Film Festival, and became an immediate sensation, and features an evocative and deeply moving musical score by the band Grizzly Bear. This is a sad and searing film that some people might find too honest and harsh for their comfort levels. Gosling and Williams were outstanding and wholly believable as husband and wife, and it’s downright shocking at times to see how intense the two of them got with each other on a physical level, to say nothing of a personal level. The bruising screenplay goes to some deep, tough places that might hit too close to home for people who have been in volatile relationships.
The grittiness of just about everything in the film (the look, the sound, the textures) also helps to make the entire piece feel like a slice of life; at times you feel like you’re watching home video footage of a crumbling marriage. Blue Valentine shows you a marriage with all the highs and all the lows, and how two people who think they know each other are really just scratching the surface with one another. I dare not reveal any of the revelations or surprises that this film has in store as there are any number of moments while watching that you’ll feel the floor moving under your feet. When you have two incredible actors like Gosling and Williams crushing every scene and imbuing every moment with emotional honesty and openness, it’s almost impossible to not become totally consumed and engrossed as a viewer. And that’s what happens during Blue Valentine, or at least, that’s what has happened to me over the course of a few viewings. I forget that I’m watching a movie and I feel like I’m observing two real people and their very real problems. And even though the film ends on a note of slight discontent, there is an oddly uplifting undercurrent that can be felt as the final frames appear and the AMAZING closing song starts to play. It’s a totally sublime ending to an already extremely confident piece of filmmaking, one that carries a raw-nerve sexuality that few modern films ever dare to explore.
Podcasting Them Softly 