The Insatiables

Somewhere: Weekend (Andrew Haigh, 2011)

Championed as one of the absolute high points of what has amounted to a resurgence of British cinema in 2011, Weekend has met with rapturous praise both here and on the other side of the Atlantic.  On paper, it’s a thin story – boy meets boy and they share an illuminating forty-eight hours together – but writer/director Andrew Haigh finds new subtleties to mine in this strikingly original gay romance.  After a muted evening with his straight friends, shy, introspective Russell (Tom Cullen) feigns illness before heading onto a club, where he picks up Glenn (Chris New).  The next morning, Glenn, at once more prickly and puckish, thrusts a tape recorder at him, asking Russell to recount his expectations of the previous evening, and how he feels about it now.  The one night stand stretches out over the next day, when we learn that Glenn is leaving for an art course in Portland the following afternoon.  The time limit adds a distinct bittersweet feeling to the events of the weekend, as Russell and Glenn examine not only their differences, but also the potential for common ground and, in each other’s perceptions, facets of their own identity and how they choose to reflect them.  The conversation often takes a turn into issues of gay integration in a world where civil liberties may have been granted, but more sinister “othering” is just as prone to occur.  Engaged politically but never didactic, the way in which Glenn’s defiant avowal of his sexual identity butts heads with Russell’s soft, then fierce, defence of something more “traditional” offers one of several charged scenes that bristle with anger and misunderstanding.

The performances from both actors are spellbinding, utterly natural within a framework that feels every bit as unforced.  Just as the conversation turns to issues of sexuality, integration and visibility, so too do these opinions reveal contrary aspects of these characters.  This isn’t just a film about two people falling in love, it’s also about how attraction is formed not just by similar thought patterns but by the ability to have yourself questioned, and to question oneself in the process, in the gradual reveal of real intimacy just as much as the frustration of not being understood by someone you want to open up to.  Whilst Weekend makes some concession towards the stereotype of the shy romantic lead meeting a louder, more vivacious personality, Cullen and New (plus Haigh’s fiercely insightful, honest script) adds specificity and shade to these characters that is unparalleled in most other modern romances.  Several comparisons have been made to Richard Linklater’s masterful Before Sunrise and Before Sunset in that it’s talky and literate, but it’s equally reminiscent of Lost in Translation or the bleaker Blue Valentine in that it nails not only a certain mood, but a certain time in its characters’ lives, their interaction no mere quirk of fate but something of larger meaning to both of them.  It’s easy to hyperbolise about a film that you feel has touched you personally, but Weekend really is special.  Romantic without being sentimental, intelligent without feeling academic, it will break your heart in a different way to anything else you’ve seen before.