LFF: Another Year – 4*
If film-making is about capturing truth and reality, however uncomfortable to watch, then Mike Leigh is the master. His improvisation method results in the most sincere and heart-felt performances on screen and his latest film, Another Year, is no exception. It’s another triumphant Leigh study of relationships, family and loneliness, filled with laughter and sadness in equal measure that asks only of its viewer to listen and reflect.
Unafraid to champion two seemingly ‘dull’ filmic subjects – middle age and middle class – Leigh’s story places such a couple at its heart. It’s wonderfully refreshing to see this age group on screen, dealing with everyday issues such as family and extended family incidents that anyone can relate to.
Happily married Tom (Jim Broadbent) and Gerri (Ruth Sheen) are at the centre of a variety of lost or broken souls’ worlds, providing the comfort zone for them to gravitate to and supposedly heal in. The irony with their names is not lost, as we never see them quarrel once, merely ‘bristle’ at times, as they cope with another year of others’ issues.
Tom and Gerri’s comfortable and inviting home, or more accurately, their welcoming kitchen/diner is reminiscent of a Bread-style soap episode, where niceties and harsh realities are played out around a busy stove and a cup of steaming tea. Leigh also brilliantly depicts the home as both a sanctuary and a place of growing unease, almost injecting a separate life force into the walls that the characters play within and rebound off. Survival is the key in Leigh’s universe.
When what seems like mere trivialities to the rest of us start to impose on Tom and Gerri’s idyllic suburban life, they retreat to their comfort place – their allotment – to ponder over events, whilst doing a Good Life and growing prized veg.
Broadbent and Sheen are perfectly cast and so believable that you almost expect them to be married off-screen, too. They encompass that unique Englishness etiquette of stiff upper lip, tolerance and inherited values, conversely married with a large dollop of sarcasm and harsh judgment. These provide the history and inner motivation that Leigh’s characters always possess, making them feel so grounded and so real that they could be living next door.
As with all Leigh films, there needs to be a whirlwind of emotion that blows in and out to upset the status quo. In this film it’s Gerri’s motor-mouthed and downright neurotic work colleague Mary, an attractive and flirty divorcee with no personal life to go home to – hence she’s always hanging around and getting sloshed. Lesley Manville steals the show as Mary, managing to make her alternately intensely annoying and hugely likeable as we gradually empathise with her loneliness and despair, and as she tries to put on a brave face.
Indeed Tom and Gerri’s reaction is almost one of unconscious callousness and patronage towards Mary, their old, alcoholic friend Ken (Peter Wight) who’s on a path to destruction, and recently bereaved brother/brother-in-law Ronnie at allowing themselves to fall into such tragic ruts. Even at the beginning we are introduced to Gerri as a counsellor – in both the work and home sense – having to deal with a melancholy, bitter and self-loathing patient, perfectly played by Imelda Staunton. Gerri’s reaction is one of almost indifference as it’s another day of work, with another person not willing to change their lot. In fact you begin to get irritated with Tom and Gerri for not seeing Mary’s and the others’ inner struggles as they are so wrapped up in domestic bliss; even the ending does not provide a compromise, but only disconcerts you further. The goalposts always change as each character shows both endearing and ugly qualities. And this is the subtle Leigh magic.
The film’s humour is almost solely centred on Mary, especially at one point when she asks grieving Ronnie (David Bradley) whether he wants a cuddle – more for her than for him. There is another priceless moment when Mary jealously reactions to Tom and Gerri’s son Joe’s fun-loving new partner Katie (Karina Fernandez). What she sees in Katie is a youthful new beginning, as well as the end of her only ‘safe’ means of flirtation with the opposite sex. Joe, mischievously played by Oliver Maltman, is never truly fleshed out, possibly because as a product of his ‘accomplished’ parents, he’s obviously a contented and well-rounded human being. We just don’t know. Interestingly, Tom and Gerri do have an estranged daughter who we never get to see, so there are skeleton’s in the family closet, which makes Tom and Gerri either survivors, or cowards at not resolving the rift.
What is apparent is this film strikes at the heart of all of domesticated Brits; we’ve all known someone like each of the characters it portrays. It also questions the sobering feeling of loneliness and even alienation felt by most at some point and, unashamedly, drags it to the attention. This is another Leigh ingredient that makes his films so disquieting and powerful that the lighter moments come as entertaining relief. Another Year is another excellent Leigh-by-numbers creation to proudly add to his collection of life portraits that will never go out of fashion, but just mature nicely with age.
4/5 stars
By L G-K