She Is Love

Is it possible, these days, to make a film about a romantic relationship without making a romcom? The template for the latter has become so firmly established that some viewers – and some critics – clearly struggle with the concept of approaching the subject differently, and this may account for some of the unflattering reviews which She Is Love has received. It’s a real shame because there’s some excellent material here, and if it doesn’t make you laugh all the way through, well, that’s probably because it isn’t intended to.

Hayley Bennett, impressive as always, plays Patricia, a US-based literary talent scout revisiting her old haunts in Cornwall for a meeting. Sam Riley, who made a huge impression in Control back in 2006 but hasn’t had a role worthy of his talents for some years, plays Idris, a songwriter who operates a boutique hotel with his young actress partner Louise (Marisa Abela). It’s ten years since they got divorced, and they are reunited unexpectedly when Patricia’s partner (an older man whom we never meet) books her a room in the hotel. During the brief period of her stay, they revisit their shared past, try to make sense of issues which were too obscure and feelings which were too overwhelming for them to deal with at the time, and figure out what to do with the rest of their lives.

It begins playfully – sufficiently so that one can understand how some people came to believe they were watching a comedy. Though there are shadows hanging over the pair early on – Idris is clearly struggling creatively, whilst Patricia is taking unspecified medication and creeps around during early scenes like the heroine of The Yellow Wallpaper – it takes a while for emotion to the build to the point where it challenges their latterly established serenity.

Louise is distracted, having recently been offered a new role which she’s struggling to get to grips with, so Patricia and Idris bicker over breakfast. “You’re disgusting,” she says. “You’re impossible,” he responds, almost affectionately. Spending time together is easy for them, their old shared language rapidly returning, and with it a heady sense of possibility. Neither feels the need to put on an act for the other. They start drinking early in the day and reminisce and laugh and play, dressing up as ghosts to scare Louise, who realises only then hoiw much there is between them that she can never be a part of. The script with which she has been struggling functions as a parody of both relationships and points up the lack of experience which places her even further out of her depth. Perhaps this is is the first time she has fully understood the extent to which Idris is a separate person.

The way the cast handle these roles is all the more impressive because the film is largely improvised, giving it a raw, fresh feeling throughout. Faces smeared with make-up must have been a nightmare for continuity and the lack of any noticeable errors in that regard suggests that a significant parts of it was shot in chronological order over the course of a single day. Much of the camerawork seems to be improvised around the actors’ movements, with cinematographer Jan Vrhovnik spending a lot of time in close-up, which adds to the sense of intimacy and, over time, claustrophobia. His experiments with partial images and moments of blurring are not altogether successful but complement the characters’ drunken state and the confusion of what they’re dealing with, whilst a long static shot in which they sit side by side may depend heavily on the work of Nick Cave but is nonetheless powerful in its unaccustomed stillness.

The established model of the romcom tends to trade in new love, with old, established love often treated as boring or stale. It’s the latter which is celebrated here, even though both Patricia and Idris have to face the fact that the price of it may now be too high. This particular kind of chemistry between actors is difficult to achieve, and they are very effective in conveying the kind of implicit understanding which can make a relationship addictive even when it’s falling apart. Patricia’s reflections on her grief at the loss of Idris’ father also serve as a reminder that – outside the myth of cinema – no relationship stands alone, and a separation is a rent in social fabric which pulls more than just two people apart.

The calamity which sounded the relationship’s death knell is left unaddressed until the end, perhaps because the pair are having too much fun reliving the good times, hesitant to acknowledge the whole of their experience. Dramatic as the revelation is, it seems less important in itself than as a prelude to acknowledging the grief which they both feel over the loss of that illusion, over the fact that they can’t go back to the way they were. The tide of life is coming for both of them. Director Jamie Adams handles the rhythm of these scenes well, less focused on entertaining than on staying true to the story. The result may have limited appeal for mainstream audiences, but it’s far from a wasted effort.