Close My Eyes

This film is an expanded and improved rewrite of Poliakoff's early play Hitting Town. I have always found Poliakoff's plays filmic; this reworking on film is more interesting than the play, although the starkness of the incest in Hitting Town was probably more shocking, and the 1970's UK audience was probably more susceptible to shock.

Three great performances in this film - Saskia Reeves, Clive Owens and Alan Rickman.

Poliakoff has a great knack of mixing the profound, the profane and the mundane. One telling scene in Richard's flat has Richard and Natalie agonising over their tryst, then making love, while in the background a rain-affected test match (cricket) fails to happen and then starts to happen again. Unforgettable symbolism - Bergman would have used it if only the Swedes played cricket.

This film is well worth seeing.

The subject of incest, between an adult man and his sister, will immediately put off many potential movie watchers, but for those not turned away easily, Close My Eyes succeeds as a sociological study, and should be commended for its hypnotic depiction of very difficult subject matter.

How many times have we seen, or imagined, an inappropriate flirtation from a woman, at a time when circumstances have left her emotionally distraught? That this flirtation of Natalie (Saskia Reeves) should find its way to her own younger brother Richard (Clive Owen) immediately jump starts the story into somewhat previously uncharted water.

Perhaps incest is a drug, not unlike and somewhere between alcohol and heroin, and certainly the intensity of the feelings, the desire, as portrayed between the two translates to us as such. It is this undeniable intensity that is the strength, perhaps the honesty of the film.

Alan Rickman, is brilliant, as usual, in a smallish role as Natalie's husband.

How can you feel sympathetic to a brother and sister who fall in love with one another? Ensure that the viewer knows that they grew up separated from one another, and that at least one of them is emotionally frustrated after a series of failed relationships. Throw in an older, maybe boring husband (an Alan Rickman I can't even imagine!!), mix in some gorgeous surroundings and it's not quite so astonishing. The comedic touches are great....the brother's fright at being invited on a picnic by Rickman ..."You think he's going to kill me?" says volumns about his guilt. Betty Davis criticized one movie as merely a 'travelogue', which I don't mind at all: the beautiful upper reaches of the Thames, the country estate, the old church where the lovers try to break apart.....wonderful!! I watch it over and over just for the scenery. The brother's bare buns aren't half as attractive as Alan Rickman's, but the sex scene in an empty office with some nameless young woman is quite hilarious.

The acting is excellent, as is the dialogue. The "I will, I won't" of the female gets a little wearing. but I suppose it's necessary to show how repulsive incest was initially to her. For those of you who like quirky movies and English environments, this is a must!!

Close My Eyes (Stephen Poliakoff, 1991) is a troubling, intriguing, but sometimes superficial state-of-the-nation drama that attempts to have the last word on the 1980s. Saskia Reeves plays an aimless, unhappy young woman who marries a millionaire (Alan Rickman), then embarks on a passionate affair with her fiery, arrogant younger brother (Clive Owen). Though she can apparently turn the attraction on and off - an element that's insufficiently developed until the close - he is besotted, taking the AIDS crisis as further proof that he is doing The Right Thing. While this is primarily a portrait of sibling love, Poliakoff does have loftier ambitions as his screenplay encompasses compromised dreams (seen in the careers of its protagonists, and the broken idealism of city architecture) and the hollowness of contemporary priorities.

There's a moment in Lynne Ramsey's Morvern Callar, where Samantha Morton seems to capture just how peculiar and uncomfortable someone sounds in their own head when they're expressing a sensitive sentiment - in this case: "Shut up, he's dead." It's so unlike conventional acting that I've never been able to work out if she's doing it on purpose or has just mangled the dialogue with an atypical display of woodenness. Owen has a similar moment here, with a line that straddles the divide between glibness and profundity. "My boss is ill - he's got AIDS", he says simply. It's a particularly odd moment in a film that's littered with peculiarities and has a lot to say - not all of it entirely coherently.

With its striking, grim cinematography and bleak subject matter - punctuated with moments of wry humour - Close My Eyes plays like an embryonic version of Mike Leigh's dizzyingly brilliant Naked, which it predates by two years. In common with Poliakoff's 2009 film Glorious 39, it's a story of well-spoken people falling apart, lit by ever-present music, stately tracking shots and a curious interest in construction work as metaphor. Indeed, Poliakoff's fine visual sense is much in evidence, particularly in a breathtaking surrealistic opening. Acting-wise, it's a mixed bag, with a weak supporting cast but three strong leads. Reeves is the standout - absolutely excellent in a tricky part - with Owen as good as I've seen him and Rickman doing his considerable best in a role that tends towards caricature. Interesting stuff, and definitely one to revisit.

Writer and director Poliakoff has had a variable but often remarkable career in television mostly, with landmarks 'Bloody Kids' (directed admirably by Stephen Frears) and 'Caught On A Train'. His work as a director as well as a writer has been arguably less successful with the recent 'The Tribe' being laughed off the screen despite the sell of a naked Anna Friel, and the critically mixed reviews of his serial set in a photographic museum. His plots tend to have hard to swallow fancies to them, and this is no exception. Life tough and fractured in the modern financial jungle? Roll about on the floor with your sister, after all you haven't seen her for years. Then blow this up in some way to include aids and pretentiously tie the outcome to the fate of humanity, not to mention your actual middle classes. There are many puzzling aspects to this film, not least the overbearing photography and wallowing in architectural richness. There's got to be a reason, it just escapes me.

Poliakoff's script is efficient and always interesting, despite the cringe factor, but it's the performances that make this film so strange and memorable. Clive Owen has cut a curious path in British telly, sharing with Paul McGann a sort of 'new man' image, especially in 'Chancer' where he was seen snuggling up cooeing to his baby son stark naked in bed. "Aaaaaah," went several thousand female hearts. Owen is an interesting, even brilliant actor. He doesn't act with his voice, which is often kept low key and naturalistic, but through his face. He's one of those gifted actors who can portray deep emotion and anguish with a mere inflection. He is partnered with the equally able Saskia Reeves, and together they burn up the screen, especially in the blistering climax. It's at moments like these you really admire actors and the way they make the magic happen.