Safe

I call this an important film because it deals with a very topical social issue in an original and subtle manner. It is also ambiguous (as the previous reviewer pointed out), which is something American audiences and critics often can't handle. Carol, an affluent suburban housewife played by Julianne Moore, is becoming increasingly disturbed and unable to cope with the alleged pollution and impurities in the environment. What could have been a "disease of the week" TV movie, however, is handled with surprising depth by director Todd Haynes. Carol ends up in a new agey community dedicated to healing people like herself. What is fascinating is that Safe, while exploring the pressures and toxicity of modern life, is also a brilliant look at the pathology of fleeing from life and seeking an environment of "purity." For Carol ends up, instead of recovering, more and more alienated and withdrawn. Safe does not provide answers to this dilemma, but it sure makes us look at some difficult questions.

Although it's been almost ten years since filmmaker Todd Haynes (Velvet Goldmine, Far From Heaven) made Safe, the film's only secured cinematic release in Australia in 2004. As Safe quietly satirises the 80s, the delayed release improves it, adding another layer of perspective to a heroine who lives life in a series of bubbles.

It's 1987, and timid California housewife Carol (a young Julianne Moore) is immersed in upper-middle class minutiae – ensuring her couch is the right colour, sleepwalking through a tepid aerobics class, and submitting to her husband (Greg White from 24). But gradually cracks appear in this pristine life, tiredness, unexplained illness…until she is diagnosed with multiple chemical sensitivity. She then moves to Wrenwood, a healing retreat founded by the charismatic Peter (Peter Friedman) – but will this solve her problem? Or is it just another escape? Safe is a very interesting film about a woman so overwhelmed by her environment that she becomes allergic to it. Writer and director Haynes has combined aspects of the disease film (e.g. Love Story) with the psychological thriller – as Carol doesn't know what triggers her symptoms, the audience never knows when she'll have another attack.

While Haymes criticises the New Age belief that illness is psychologically-based, in Carol's case, it's impossible to separate the psychological and physical aspects of her illness. The cinematography shows her dwarfed by her environment and Haymes offers no easy solutions. ***½/***** stars.

Safe is perhaps a tad too ambiguous for its own good. The film focuses on a suburban housewife (Julianne Moore) who feels sick for no reason. Her doctor suggests psychological treatment, but she finds more comfort in the idea that her sickness is caused by environmental factors, such as car fumes and the like. Haynes never answers the question of what is really affecting Moore. One moment you're sure it's psychological, then physical symptoms displayed by the woman are undeniable. It's not that I really wanted the questions answered, but the constant toying with the audience does become a strain, especially as the film runs for two hours and not much happens. There's also the possibility that the story isn't meant to represent reality, but instead it might be allegorical. This makes it all the more difficult to unravel. I know I sound sort of negative in this review, but I did like it. I don't think it works completely, but I found it fascinating. One reason it does work at all is that Haynes' major goal seems to want to put us inside Moore's head. It shows us what it would be like to suffer and not know why, and how comfortable it might be to, say, join a cult, which is basically what she does in the end. Not entirely satisfying, but definitely well worth a look.

I watched Safe for our coverage of 1980s's health movements and the AIDS virus with a special eye for the conflict between New Age healers and "the medical profession." Safe connects so well with both; although there's no real homosexuality anxieties in the film, AIDS seem the unconquerable illness penetrating the lives of happy suburban people.

First of all, Julianne Moore is absent in the film. Her character, Carol White, is a model, rich California suburban housewife. We notice how absent she is from the moment that sex with her husband produces nothing in her, but she goes through the motions of kissing him and petting him afterwards. She has mechanical conversations with friends, with mother, with cleaning lady in her ultramodern, lush, carpeted, fashionably lit house with gardens surrounding it and police patrol by night. She goes to her workouts, cleaners, and arranges furniture.

This is a really tragic film. It's also brilliantly shot, edited, acted, and its sets are so appropriate. The use of teal and sky blue becomes numbing, anesthetizing in Carol's home, as does the harsh lighting of the doctor's office and the hospital. The Wrenwood Center itself resembles where Deckard would have gone at the end of Blade Runner as the orig. end credits seemed to indicate: mountains and nature as an antidote to the city.

However, it's not URBAN life that seems to be killing Carol- it's SUBURBAN life, it's Northern California, it's fruit diets, mini-malls, 80s music playing in health clubs, housewifes, gardens, pools, teal green couches, endless lines of cars, power lines, and street lights. It's dismal, and her family life is no big help having no real life to it.

At one point, in a really wrenching scene, Carol cries, looks at Greg from the bed and asks "Where am I? Right now?" He responds flatly but tenderly, "You're in Carol and Greg's house." She only cries more.

The question is: what is really wrong with Carol White? Did she succumb to depression and make herself a psychosomatic illness? Is she really sick and dying? Is she just afraid of living? It seems to me the more that Carol is told that she is the only one with the power to cure herself, the less power she seems to have. The final monologue where she stands in front of the group and discusses how far she's come is inarticulate, random, unthought, and not a good sign.

The acting is done well for its purposes, especially by Peter Dunn, the leader. He creates an interesting portrait of a man who is so determined to be a victim that he's created people who are dependent on him. Peter is the only dynamic presence in the film, but even he wants peace, love, and tranquility in our hearts. That doesn't seem to feed Carol.

This film reminded me of Koyaanisqatsi, visions of emptiness and life out of balance. Carol looks out her car window at the highways and powerlines and headlights, and she reminded me of someone watching that film, fearing technology. Yet even retreating from technology is not an ALTERNATIVE: it's a sign of defeat, isn't it?

The film doesn't offer solutions- only one of the most frightening, eerie, and numbing indictments of suburbia and the New Age that I have ever seen. It puts its images, sets, sounds, actors into a collective vision of decay, expressed through the decline of the model suburban housewife. See it, but don't look for answers or happy endings.

Todd Haynes's modern melodrama, Safe (1995), has proven to be quite a controversial film for debate amongst film critics. Those who enjoyed the film defended it as an excellent critique on the twentieth century while others claimed it to be slow and boring. Although, as the study of film progresses Safe is being viewed under a differently light and becoming more accepted amongst American movie goers, developing what looks like the beginnings of a cult following. I would side with those who agree that the film is an excellent critique of the twentieth century although that is not my focus of analysis for this commentary.

The real focus of analysis involves one extremely short scene: where Carol White comes home and stares at the new furniture after it has been brought into the house a second time, which was about half way through the film. The mise-en-scene in this short five to ten second shot is extraordinary in its capture of the mood or in Carol White's case the sickness behind suburban life.

The new couch alone was the most powerful aspect of mise-en-scene. There it was, black in color, square in shape, perfectly spaced between the walls and lamps. The couch is empty and unused yet filling in space and suburban peace of mind. It is the focus of the entire shot, forcing the audience to stare on waiting for a reaction, some kind of acknowledgment from Carol White. The couch, to me, has essentially become a reflection of Carol White, fitting since her name is just as blank and lifeless as the couch.

I also thought the lighting of the room was crucial in creating the setting for the couch. The low key lighting of the enclosed room shuts out all life, helping to create that dead environment which Carol White cannot seem to escape. The darker scene really blurs the edges of the couch and the corners of the walls, forming a cave like design. This particular aspect of light really adds to the frighteningly scary mood which is most commonly felt and scene by audience members, but never really thought about or understood.

Sound and lack of it really set the tone for hidden narratives of suburban horror. The beginning of the short scene depicts Carol White walking in the darkened room to see the new couch, and only her light footsteps are heard. After this there is complete silence for at least five to ten seconds. Since the scene did not have any muffled background sounds I found it to be quite useful in describing the silence in which Carol White lives her life. Even the furniture is louder than she.

The style of mise-en-scene in this scene is quite evident throughout the rest of the film, and really shows its importance as a tool in every cinematic genre. A film such as Safe demands attention to detail and a unique style when it comes to mise-en-scene. One should always take the time to stop and enjoy the symbols, messages, and hidden narratives behind mise-en-scene.