Man of Flowers

In my language, there's a different word for erotic and non-erotic love. English has just one word for the two. And Charles, the main character in this story, doesn't even make a distinction. The attraction he feels to flowers or classical music is erotic, as is his attachment to his mother; at the same time, he's unable to consummate a sexual relationship. He's a profoundly lonely person, who writes letters to himself and buys 'human relationships' in the form of a doctor or a stripper to whom he hardly talks. Lisa, in turn, is just as lonely: her boyfriend hardly talks to her, only takes her money to spend on drugs. This film is about the isolation of modern people, the impossibility to create relationships. Charles sublimates this longing into a fondness for all art and beauty, others escape into drugs or pointless 'creation'. And the question arises: why am I watching this film? What am I substituting with it?

It's no surprise, you'll find Man Of Flowers one of the oddest films you've ever see. A rich lonely man, Norman Kaye, fantastic as, loves arty things. He plays piano, studies flowers, art, pays to watch beautiful young women like Alyson Best disrobe, in the opening scene. Not there's nothing wrong with the latter, although I wouldn't pay a hundred smackaroos. But in our Charles Bremmer, is an underlying picture of a lonely and mentally sick man. He posts letters to his dead mother. His psychiatrist isn't any help either, telling Charles he's doing the same thing as well as informing him that the rates are going up. One thing Charles has a lot of, is money. The scene with his shrink is my favorite among a few others. He forms a friendship with Best, that borders on a sexual one. Best though too has a lesbian lover, in one frank scene of nudity, one thing this film doesn't hold back on. Another scene, a droll timeless one, involves Kaye, in the raw, standing up in a spa bath, telling a doctor on the phone, his problems, like how he loves to smell his studies flowers, and wait till you hear how he replies. Just another guy that doesn't understand our poor Charles and his predictament. Best has an abusive ex boyfriend (Haywood-good as always) a struggling artist, who lives in the studio in the city. One scene sees him having an argument with a client on the phone, while nibbling on a yo yo biscuit, is another treasured scene. Haywood, one of Aussie's great actors is great at portraying anger, it had me rewatching the scene a few times as other ones. When Best moves in with Charles she invites her lesbian lover over, where Charles explains a exercise they must do, where Charles starts by quoting, "I've been told by doctors in the higher field". He even gets a pool installed, tent and all, I found intriguing. I really wanted Best to end up with Charles, but the end just reminds us lonely folk, as we stand apart from our other lonely peers while looking out to sea, loneliness can sometimes to be an inevitably, especially if we're not willing to do anything about it, or keep turning people away. The scenes that really got up my goat, I had to fast forward, were flashbacks played against operatic music. But they're not all bad. One shows Charles as a kid outside with a slingslot, breaking one of the front windows, where the father comes running out after him. Another of the weird scenes has Charles having quite a peculiar conversation with you're not ordinary mailman, who prewarns him about the consequences of not paying gas bills. A lot of scenes in this film are odd, as it's other characters, that are not of the regular norm, but they're funny. Another odd scene, is when he's sketching a nude artist-guess who? His teacher-Julia Blake, goes off at him, as he's drawing flowers instead. What's this preoccupation with flowers? Man Of Flowers is odd, but with it's oddness, is it's originality that I liked. This one deserves it's place up against Bliss, though it's not gonna appeal to all tastes. It's one of the most uniquely beautiful and oddest Aussie films you'll see, with great performances to boot.

Warning: detailed review

----- The film, Man of Flowers explores the murky and mysterious Freudian world of psychologically disturbed behaviour - the unconscious mental urges produced by denial of painful past experiences. Director, Paul Cox portrays how those deeply buried torments are so tortuously twisted when reemerging within the conscious mind. In this case, the cause of the sinister deviance being the originally repressed, oedipal sexual infatuation of a young boy (Charles Bremner) for his mother. Now matured into adulthood, the consequences of the boy's unresolved mental morass are both delightful and deadly. The stifled erotic obsession not only mentally metamorphoses into a richly cultured and critical appreciation of the arts, but also poses a dire threat to the perceived psychological father figure, who, threateningly, represents a modern-day rival for the mother's sexuality.

----- Confused already? Coherently translating such complex human mental meanderings to the cinematic screen is no simple task. Paul Cox not only thrives on the challenge, but, in Man of Flowers, admirably succeeds in immersing us in the pathos of his tormented heroes.

-----The principal character, Charles Bremner, is a wealthy, eccentric, gentle man who loves, or rather, is obsessed with the harmony of form and colour - the aesthetics of visual art. He admires skilled creativity, often stopping and physically caressing the sculpted, sensuous form of artworks on his many long walks throughout the city parks. He particularly adores the delicate, natural beauty of flowers and is a frequent customer at the local florists where he orders exotic arrangements for his finely decorated home, complementing the many examples of his discerning taste. He is a scholarly man. A would be artist himself.

A connoisseur of style and cultural excellence.

----- However, it is apparent that Charles has a hidden problem - a behavioural disorder. He visits his psychologist for help and we slowly realise that Charles is sexually impotent, unable to become naturally aroused unless stimulated by the aesthetics of form and beauty. When we see Charles sensuously stroking various objects d'art, we realise that he is mentally masturbating - pleasuring himself

-----The brilliantly effective series of flashback photographic sequences, shot in nonprofessional, hand-held, 16 mm format, offers the audience an historical perspective on Charles' dilemma and an explanation for his strange behaviour. Through the soundless, sepia toned, home-movie styled shots, we glimpse Charles, as a young boy, sexually infatuated with his mother (arguably, the result of an earlier unresolved Freudian, `Oedipal Complex' - the boy, as an infant, being sexually attracted to his mother, and viewing the father as a threat to this psycho sexual relationship). The ethereal quality of the photography gives the scenes a symbolic dreamlike connotation. This further emphasises the Freudian repressed psychological connection, as we witness Charles making overt sexual advances to his mother (and antoher woman). The advances are sadistically reprimanded by his father, who humiliatingly hauls the boy away from the scene by his ear, indicating the likelihood of some forthcoming harsh punishment - perhaps a sound thrashing - thereby repressing the whole disastrous episode deeply within the boy's unconscious mind.

----- Lisa is a likable, highly attractive, sensual, long-suffering woman; seemingly trapped in an abusive relationship with a misogynistic, starving artist, whose frustration over his questionable talents and lack of recognition is exacerbated by a heavy cocaine habit. Lisa increasingly resents her sorry predicament, but continues to financially support her boyfriend's artistic aspirations and drug dependent lifestyle. In order to supplement her income she moonlights as an artist's model.

Charles, as a would-be artist, is drawn to her sensuous beauty, and hires Lisa to pose at his home each week.

------ In Charles' splendid salon, the visually rich mise en scene shots, accompanied by the exotic operatic tones of Lucia di Lammermoor, feature a frame-centred Lisa slowly and erotically removing her clothing piece by piece, displaying the sheer physical beauty of her body. Meanwhile an enraptured but tense Charles sits unobtrusively (almost off screen) voyeuristically watching her performance. The actors are surrounded by a jungle of exquisite flower arrangements, exotic furniture and Charles' splendid collection of paintings and various artistic creations. The scene exemplifies beauty as his erotic fetish and informs us that Charles desperately needs the stimulation of beauty to function sexually.

----- Although perplexed, Lisa becomes rather fond of this strange, cultured man. She feels a compassion for his loneliness. Perhaps, she even senses his sexual dilemma as she finally stands naked in front of a now tense Charles to tentatively enquire: `Do you want anything else?' Charles, tongue-tied, and befuddled, mumbles an anguished `no', and staggers out of the house to a church across the street where he wildly plays the organ to an orgasmic crescendo. The irony of the sexually charged mise en scene is demonstrated by the sombre, sanctified surroundings of the church and the stoic minister approaching Charles, congratulating him on being such a good man who is much appreciated by the local congregation, contrasted with the climatic eruption of organ music as Charles finally metaphorically releases his frenzied passions.

----- Using surrealistic characters, Cox continues the theme of psychological personality extremes throughout the movie: the philosopher postman who exchanges long intellectual dialogues with Charles as he delivers the letters that Charles has written to his dead mother and then mailed to himself. The dominatrix like instructor in Charles drawing class reveals her lack of artistic sensitivity, barking military style orders to her students. The morbid, clinically depressed psychologist attempting to help Charles resolve his own problems. These larger than life characters further enrich the mentally murky mood that permeates the film.

----- Man of Flowers is intended be viewed as a psychologically erotic drama exploring one man's kink, his unconscious repressed sexual urgings and how they are represented in his conscious world. As such, the movie is laced with sexual imagery: the beautiful Lisa sensuously stripping off her clothes to the surging operatic tones of Lucia di Lammermoor; a Woody Allen like, pathetic Charles standing, full-frontal nude and limply impotent, unarroused by the sexually playful female swimmers. The gratuitous lesbian scene, involving Lisa and her friend was designed by Lisa to stimulate Charles, but it fell very flat, and went nowhere. The result is a missed opportunity to excite the viewer with a valid supporting shot of sensual imagery as further evidence of Charles fetish for erotic beauty. perhaps Charles' aestheticisation of sex is so complete that no amount of sexual provocation can ever stimulate him.

-----The complex mental maze often stretches the audience's comprehension. Much like the mentally disturbed themselves, we are unsure just what the real motives are. Just what is Charles doing and why he is doing it? We are aware that his compulsion is sexual gratification through beauty. Much is left to our own interpretation and when the film ends we are perhaps as confused as Charles is. What was the implication of Charles returning those club like objects to their rack in his garden - were they the murder weapons? Did then, Charles kill Lisa's abusive boyfriend in order to protect her - his `little flower' - and claim her precious beauty all for himself? Or, in fact, did Charles actually kill Lisa herself, in order to permanently preserve her exquisite physical form. And the final bizarre touch, did Charles then `bronze' either Lisa's or her boyfriend's body and mount the statue in the park in order that he may perpetually admire the beauty he so longingly coveted? We are really not sure what actually finally happened.

------ Despite these shortfalls, Paul Cox succeeds in his intention of creating empathy for our mentally tormented hero. Charles Bremner may be an odd, impotent, murderous, voyeuristic, sexual deviant; but, despite all the negative characteristics, he is an essentially decent and well intended human being. Furthermore, he represents a certain elegant, albeit wacky, sophistication and refinement - rare qualities in today's crude and vulgar society.

In Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce pokes a little fun at Stephen Daedelus' aesthetics. Daedelus says there are two extremes in art--the kinetic and the static. Static art is beauty of the mind, or Apollonian beauty. Kinetic is more akin to sexual desire, or Dionysian beauty. Though Joyce found this theory to be rife for satire, albeit gentle satire, I think the distinction is compelling.

This film is in part about this distinction, or rather the absence of it in one man. For Charles Bremer, all beauty is erotic. For some reason, emotional or physical, he can't participate in the act of love, so he sublimates it into art. For him, seeing a beautiful painting or a beautiful woman undressing are two instances of the same thing, both equally erotic and equally profound.

All this babble makes the film sound pretentious, but in practice it is actually almost completely unpretentious. It has something profound to say, but it says it very simply. If there is a little bit of Charles in you, you will understand this film implicitly. If there isn't, then nothing will help you, because all of the great things the film has to say are unspoken. All is said with mood and characterization. The music, largely from Lucia di Lammermoor, is put to probably the best use that any music in any film ever has been. The 16mm flash backs with Werner Herzog (yes, THE Werner Herzog) playing Charles' father are brilliant and beautifully balletic, as if they had been choreographed gesture by gesture by the director.

The day I saw Man of Flowers in the theater, I walked out into the sunlight and looked at the world a little differently. That was in 1984, when I was 17 years old. And I'm still moved by the experience.

A middle-aged man is unable to have relationships with women, apparently a byproduct of his strict upbringing we learn via flashbacks. It is by turns provocative, funny, and pretentious, but always interesting and definitely quirky. Kaye is well cast as the man-child in search of beauty while Best is lovely as one of the objects of his affection. Among the amusing characters are the philosophical postman and Best's hack artist boyfriend. Cox directs with a sense of freshness, helped considerably by the ever-present music from Donizetti's "Lucia di Lammermoor." The flashback scenes of Kaye's childhood are tinged with Oedipal feelings, simultaneously sad and erotic.