Romantic love has inspired more popular music and movies than any topic that I know of. People want to believe in love, or we must have been told that is what we should desire. Not only we have been told that true love will find you in the end, but a man once claimed that the love you take is equal to the love you make. That blissful feeling of all-encompassing devotion is the foundation of many relationships and families. But we all know there is dark side to this powerful emotion. Like a cute little Mogwai getting fed after midnight, things could turn from cute to ugly pretty quickly. Surely, the movies and songs about heartbreaks are just as popular as, if not more than, their chirpy counterparts. How do you shake away Wong Kar-Wai’s devastatingly beautiful In The Mood For Love? You just don’t. The arts see the beauty in our shattered dreams and immortalized them, for the most part, through rose-tinted glasses. Among the many love stories on celluloid in 2012, Terence Davies’s The Deep Blue Sea and Michael Haneke’s Amour stand out as two polar opposites yet they are also curiously connected to each other in their uncompromising take on the unnerving pain when love puts one between a rock and hard place.
Indeed, both films begin in quite the morbid fashion. Without any prompt, The Deep Blue Sea introduces its protagonist Hester (Rachel Weisz) by the way of her suicide attempt. In Amour, Michael Haneke also spares little time to unveil the bitter end of his leading lady. Since rarely do Haneke’s characters reach the end credits unscathed, the only surprise here is his decision to show us the results this early in the film. The Deep Blue Sea, though, caught me by surprise because I assumed it would be in the same vein of David Lean’s Brief Encounter or Wong Kar-Wai’s In The Mood For Love. Boy, was I wrong. As heartbreaking as the two previous films were, the devastation is not nearly as bleak as watching The Deep Blue Sea’s heroine swallowing sleeping pills and turning on the gas from her heater. Then Davies’s film cuts between several short flashback scenes of Hester recalling her time with her handsome lover Freddie (Tom Hiddleston) and her older husband William (Simon Russell Beale) while the soaring string compositions of Samuel Barber are playing in the background. The purposely disorienting editing drops the viewer into Hester’s whirlwind of affairs in intriguing fashion, thus eliminating any presumptions that this is just another generic period romance. Continue reading