The Cement Garden

Disarmingly strange film about a family of children fending for themselves after first their father, then their mother dies. Oldest son Jack eschews responsibility, leaving next oldest Julie to handle the everyday chores. In the midst of all these devestating changes, Jack and Julie begin to develop a singularly unusual bond, one that is threatened when Julie invites the outside world into their private domain by dating an older man.

This film sparks comparisons to the similarly themed OUR MOTHER'S HOUSE, but the two films differ dramatically. While the children in OUR MOTHER'S HOUSE construct an elaborate fantasy world for themselves(based in part on the dead mother's fanatic religious beliefs), there's no such pretentious in THE CEMENT GARDEN. The children live in a cinder block house, with a cement garden out back, on a plot surrounded by a flat, desolate looking landscape. There are several scenes where the children sit around saying nothing, doing nothing, something that never happens in the other film's active household. The costumes and household furnishings are nondescript; you can't figure out if this film is set in the sixties or the nineties. The overall feel is one of banality, lethargy, and a total absence of passion or vitality. Perhaps it's only in a situation like this that the relationship Jack and Julie have can flourish, and Jack can transform from a petulant, self-absorbed boy to a responsible, loving young man. Strange atmosphere, but very rewarding.

I like Ian McEwans writings, especially his early short stories, and this is a generous contribution to the haunting quality of his work (much better than Comfort of Strangers or A Good Son). Charlotte Gainsbourg is wonderful as the impish sister and Andrew Robertson does very well hiding behind his shag cut and masturbating in his private bunker. Camera work is wonderful in a fantastic location in middle of English dump sites with broken houses and bricks. Film´s strength rests not on incest but on superbly explicating a child´s value that it places on it´s family over the rest of the world. Reminds me of long ago isolated family vacations fighting and playing with siblings and forgetting everyone else, just stuck in time. Ignore the poor shock value trailer (``...but he is your brother!´´´) and dip your head into this haunting world of adolescence. Very sad and beautiful. Don´t see with siblings or Mom, I did (an uncomfortable mistake).

"The Cement Garden", based upon a novella by Ian McEwan, deals with a similar theme to that of William Golding's "Lord of the Flies", namely the behaviour of children and adolescents when free of the constraints of adult behaviour. Four siblings from a working-class family - Jack, his older sister Julie, younger sister Sue and the youngest, Tom- are orphaned by the death of their mother, their father having died earlier. In order to stay together and avoid being put into the care of the local authority, they conceal their mother's death by hiding her body in a trunk, filling it with cement and leaving it in the cellar of their house.

The story takes place during a hot summer in a bleak, impoverished district of an unnamed British inner city. The children's house, a grim Modernist building, is one of the few remaining in an area marked out for redevelopment, and is surrounded either by soulless tower blocks or by derelict, rubble-strewn wasteland. Their father dies while trying to lay concrete over the garden, one of the few islands of green in the area, hence the title.

The book was published in 1978 and in many ways reflects the mood of Britain in the late seventies, a time of economic recession, of industrial unrest, of unemployment, of concern about declining public services and the condition of the inner cities. (The period also saw some of the hottest summers of recent decades). The book was also highly controversial because of the incestuous relationship which develops between Jack and Julie, something which possibly explains why it had to wait until 1993 to be adapted for the screen. Although the seventies were a period of increasing permissiveness in Britain, there was a limit to what the British Board of Film Censors would permit, and incest still seemed to be off-limits. This relationship, however, is an important part of the story; it can be seen as both the ultimate expression of family solidarity and as a conscious rejection of the taboos and conventions of the adult world, so an adaptation which omitted this relationship would not have worked.

Another controversial theme of both book and film is what might be called the confusion of gender identity. Tom, who loves to dress as a girl, is presented as a budding transvestite, and both Charlotte Gainsbourg and Andrew Robertson are here made to look remarkably androgynous; her hair is short and his long. Although their characters are named Julie and Jack, they could just as easily be Julian and Jackie.

The film was directed by Andrew Birkin, the brother of Jane and therefore Gainsbourg's uncle. (Another family member, Birkin's son Ned, was cast as Tom). Birkin is better known as a screenwriter than as a director, and this is one of only two feature films he has directed. Nevertheless, it is an accomplished piece of work, and the director is able to elicit some excellent performances from his young cast. McEwan's book, despite its desolate urban setting, is not a work of social realism. It can be seen as a modern development of the "Gothic" tradition, abandoning the supernatural elements and exotic settings beloved of Georgian and Victorian Gothic authors, but retaining their fascination with death, decay and the macabre and their emphasis on the darker side of human nature. It is a highly atmospheric piece of writing, and Birkin succeeds well in capturing its eerie, hallucinatory quality; not so much a midsummer night's dream as a midsummer nightmare. This is a film about British working-class life which stands outside the mainstream "kitchen sink" tradition. 8/10

I have heard people writing comments about being shocked by the sexuality in this movie and about being shocked by who was involved in producing it (i.e. relatives). Consider this: the actress who plays Julie was not 14-15 years old when this was shot, she was 22! It's called acting. And, her older "brother", an actor who was no relation, was 19. So, get over it folks. It's a movie, a slow moving but very well done movie.

Truth is, I'm sorry if this movie offends some people. But, for goodness sakes, it's a story on a screen that is not even that racy. The movie is actually paced quite well to fit the somber mood and really, who can complain about the acting. I think some who have found any serious fault in the production are just trying to justify their uncomfortable feelings about the subject matter.

Anyway, read the other comments, choose for yourself whether or not you care to watch it. But, if you are not put off by the subject matter, you will find a beautiful and sad story.

The Cement Garden Andrew Birkin's film has it all: intense characters, controversial situations and unusual concepts, which shouldn't come as a surprise if we keep in mind that it's based upon a novel by Ian McEwan. The protagonists are Jack, a 16 year-old boy and Julie, his sister, barely a couple of years older; then come the youngest sister and the youngest brother. The four of them live with their parents, in a somehow bleak house, completely isolated from other neighborhoods.

Jack spends most of his time avoiding his home duties, such as cleaning up his room, and instead devotes most of his hours in a secluded spot in which he hides a worn out adult magazine and toilet paper. His mother actually confronts him and tells him, following the pseudo-scientific approach from Victorian age (which Foucault so aptly analyzed in his History of sexuality), that his moodiness and messiness is a direct result of self-abuse, and that should he continue practicing that he would end up extenuating his body.

One afternoon, the father is pouring cement into the garden and asks Jack for help, but while the father keeps working on the garden, the young boy is in the bathroom masturbating enthusiastically, with precise visual transitions, the director manages to apprise the moment of Jack's orgasm with the last breadth of the father, as he succumbs to a heart attack. Later on, Jack will tell to his sister "Besides... not my fault he died", answering a question that no sibling had dared to ask up to that moment.

The absence of the father marks the downfall of the family. The mother is unable to step out of her room, depressed as she is, and order and discipline soon turns into chaos and disarray. It's in this context that the constant taunting between Jack and Julie turns into something else. What at first begins as innocent flirtations soon brings up more tantalizing repartees. In one occasion, while Jack is on top of Julie, tickling her, she starts grabbing him in a very distinct manner and comes to an orgasm.

As the mother falls deeper into depression and illness, the fear of being discovered is diluted and thus the incestuous fantasy acquires a firm grasp on reality. As Lacan analyzed in his Antigone seminar, the death drive moves the Greek heroine towards the desire invested exclusively around the body of her deceased brother. In "The Cement Garden", the protagonists start cajoling themselves around this death drive that disappears and leaves only a very real desire and a very real erotic drive. "My brother is what he is" would say Antigone, and in a similar way Jack will tell her sister that if people love him then they will take him as he is.

In Ancient Greece the term "autadelphos" (autos: "same"; adelphos: "sisterly," related to delphus: "womb") would mean something irreplaceable. As Antigone says in Sophocles' play, if she would lose her children she could always get pregnant again, if she would lose her husband she could always find another man, but if she loses her brother, who could possibly replace him? They are, after all, creatures that have shared the same womb and nothing can compare to that. In a similar fashion, the passion between Jack and Julie defies all social norms and regulations. They are irreplaceable for each other, and as the house starts falling apart, they start getting closer and closer.

The absence of the father also means the absence of the nom de pere, the ultimate authority that inscribes the subject into society, that commands his offspring to occupy the male or female position in the symbolic order. Without this authority, male and female positions are interchangeable whether ideologically or practically, as it's made evident by the authority invested upon Julie, who has the full responsibility of being in charge of the house (a role that would be traditionally ascribed to a male), or by the youngest brother's obsession in wearing wigs and skirts, not only dressing up as a girl but also sleeping on the bed with another boy his age, pretending to be Julie and Jack. When Jack intends to stop this peculiar practices, Julie has but one answer for him: "You think that being a girl is degrading but secretly you'd love to know what is it like, wouldn't you?", and in a very tantalizing way places a most effeminate ribbon on his brother's neck.

Crossing all boundaries, subverting the heterosexual normative and assuming incest as something that feels natural and real, Birkin's film announces from the very beginning a dreadful end; perhaps it would be interesting to compare the novel's ending with the one in the film, because after all, once all is said and done, as Lacan would phrase it "…is important to note that one only has to make a conceptual shift and move the night spent with the lady from the category of pleasure to that of jouissance, given that jouissance implies precisely the acceptance of death — and there's no need of sublimation — for the example to be ruined".