Blue Valentine

One of the other managers at the theatre, who happened to screen this film one night before I did, said that it seemed to have been designed in such a way as to not make obvious the time period in which it is set; and that comment wound up being one of those things I could not get out of my head while I watched the movie, to the point that I was actively looking for signs that would give away the time period. There were enough of them to seat the film firmly in the very recent past (the family SUV and a reference to Bush 43), but what I noticed while I was looking for those signs was that there was a rather considerable dearth of externalities in the film. It is so focused on its core idea—observing Dean and Cindy throughout their life together—that almost nothing else gets on screen unless it is directly related to that idea.

There are no subplots; or at least, there are no subplots that are not directly related to Dean and Cindy—not only to Dean or only to Cindy, but to Dean-and-Cindy, perhaps as some kind of nuclear organism; and the film’s tracjectory is inevitably drawn back to Dean and Cindy, as the present day is intercut with flashbacks that present the total picture of Dean-and-Cindy, from beginning to end. The reason this formula works is because the central character in the movie is their relationship, from its unlikely beginnings to its inevitable conclusion.

“Inevitable conclusion” is, of course, just a nice way of saying “fiery breakup” or “they never should have gotten together in the first place.” Is that giving too much away? I can’t imagine that it is. Nothing you could read about this film will give you the slightest idea that there is anything uplifting to be seen; and if this is a film you actively want to see, then you’ve probably read up on it enough to know what’s coming, so that the actual detail is neither a surprise nor a spoiler. It is how what happens is presented that makes the film compelling.

Writer-director Derek Cianfrance picks up the story of Dean and Cindy toward the end, but he paces the flashbacks in such a way that we get the whole story by the time we get to the end of the film. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say about this film when I started writing, and I’m still not sure what I want to say. It’s one of the more straightforward films I’ve seen in awhile: despite one last attempt to right a sinking ship, a young couple is ultimately unable to save their failing marriage. Ryan Gosling is Dean, Michelle Williams is Cindy, and they both play their parts admirably and courageously—particularly Gosling, who has to spend much of his time being ignorant, selfish, and downright bellicose. Dean doesn’t exactly have a lot going on in his life, but even having said that, Cindy, laden with some considerable baggage of her own, is also not his one-way ticket to a better world.

It seems reasonable that Dean would be attracted to Cindy, even if you factor out how hot Michelle Williams is. While Dean did not graduate from high school and moves from job to job like a Joad, Cindy is in college and pursuing the medical school track. There is also the matter of how they meet. The company Dean works for is moving an elderly gentleman into a nursing home for the first time, and the gentleman just happens to get the room across the hall from Cindy’s grandmother, on whom Cindy dotes. There is, of course, the obligatory moment when Dean and Cindy see each other through doorways—but the moment is not electric. It’s more like an oasis—and it might be the most clever part of Cianfrance’s screenplay. Their eyes find each other in that space because they share nothing but being young in a place that is filled with old people.

It’s possible that how old so many of these old people are is something of an affectation on Cianfrance’s part; but then again, without some sort of impetus, this thing was never going to get off the ground. People meet in lots of different ways, and they are attracted to each other for lots of different reasons; and, as this film makes clear, they stay together for many different reasons, too—even when some of the reasons are not very good ones.

Dean is interested because Cindy is a pretty girl, but it takes some time before Cindy reciprocates his interest. Indeed, a major plot point, which occurs between when they meet and when they get together, would almost lead you to believe that Cindy winds up with Dean more because he is not someone else than because he is who he is—perhaps one of those nebulous reasons that people get together when maybe they shouldn’t have done. In between is another major plot point that reveals perhaps the best of Dean, and possibly the most compelling reason for Dean and Cindy to try to stay together, despite what seem to be considerable odds.

The film is difficult to watch at times, and it does not end well; but it is very well crafted and is in many ways a gem of a little picture. It’s much less polished than a picture like Rabbit Hole, but is no less effective and no less worthy of the “art film” moniker. It is, however, more challenging. (And yes, I understand that I am making the somewhat absurd assertion that something other than a Darren Aronofsky film could be more challenging than a John Cameron Mitchell film.) It is also, unfortunately, the sort of film that Oscar can easily ignore. The acting is very good, but not quite revelatory; and the considerable excellence of the screenplay and editing will be overlooked as surely as pick-a-Pixar-film will be praised far more than is warranted. Nevertheless, if you feel up to the challenge, you could do much worse than taking in this very fine film.