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Movie Review: Morvern Callar

Our critic finds Samantha Morton's movie more character study than anything else.

by Janey | 2003.02.05

It’s Christmas Eve. Morvern Callar’s boyfriend has left her and he’s not coming back. Ever. Under the electrical buzz of the blinking lights on the Christmas tree, he’s left behind his ATM card, the manuscript for his novel, a music tape that he’s made especially for her, and his dead body.

It takes us a moment to realize that Morvern (Samantha Morton) isn’t reacting to his death with stunned silence. Her silence and lack of affect are her normal ways of approaching the world. She is an innocent in the way that small children are innocents – nothing surprises her because everything is unexpected. Things that you and I might take in stride are just as confusing to her as those things that we might find peculiar or disturbing. She seems to be adrift in her life, and her apparent anchor – her boyfriend – couldn’t have been much help even when he was alive. Yet it is her boyfriend’s suicide that finally gives her wings.

I have rarely been so ambivalent about a film. Usually I’m very clear about what I did and did not like in a movie, but with this one, I simply can’t decide. I’m glad I saw it. I’m impressed with the edginess of the story and the fact that even a “happy” ending doesn’t really lift us (or Morvern) out of the doldrums of the rest of the film. But the very things I like about it in retrospect made it difficult to sit through in real time. The film is slow and methodical, just as Morvern is. But, like her, much is going on under the surface.

Added to this is the fact that Morvern and her cronies are Scottish and they all mutter and mumble in a heavy dialect, often under loud music. I’ll bet I only clearly understood a third of what was said in the film, and I’m pretty good with dialects. Every now and then I would understand a line clearly and just love it, such as when Morvern attends a party to which she and her boyfriend have been invited to celebrate Christmas. When asked where he is, she replies, utterly straight faced, “At home.” “At home?” “Yes,” she deadpans, “in the kitchen.” She’s not trying to be funny. And this quality of telling the truth without going into detail characterizes her throughout the film. It’s disarming and quite funny – when you can understand what the hell she just said.

On the other hand, there is so little dialogue in the film that my lack of understanding didn’t stop me from understanding the bulk of it. I just feel somewhat cheated because I think that, had I been able to pick out the words, I would have enjoyed it much, much more.

Her relationship with her best friend, Lanna (first timer Kathleen McDermott), is quite nicely portrayed. Lanna has few of the qualities that make Morvern worthy of our attention. When the two of them are together, it’s like watching two completely different friendships being played out before us, an apt depiction of what real life relationships consist of. There’s always a disconnect somewhere, since we can’t read each other’s minds and we communicate in such terse codes, but usually we overlook this fact and imagine ourselves to have meetings of the mind fairly regularly. In Morvern Callar, the deepest connections are made through silence and, occasionally, just pointing. Yet most of the interplay in the film is like listening to two separate, one-sided telephone conversations.

Morton’s performance is a fine one. There are few actresses working today who could give such a blank face so much character. She’s played an innocent before, of course, in Minority Report, and she is also known for her role as a deaf/mute in Woody Allen’s Sweet and Lowdown. These two roles seem to have prepared her well for this little film. It is when she retreats inside that we see her most clearly.

My best friend recommended Morvern Callar to me and told me that it reminded him of Punch Drunk Love. Now, I haven’t seen Punch Drunk Love and others may disagree with his assessment, but knowing what I do about it, I can understand the analogy. You should also know that when he saw Punch Drunk Love, he told me that he found it quite disturbing, in fact, perhaps one of the most disturbing films he has ever seen. For me, Morvern Callar seemed like Being There meets The Sheltering Sky meets Thelma and Louise. And, honestly, I can’t think of three more different films, so that is in itself a remarkable achievement.

But do I recommend it? I don’t know. I think that it is thought provoking, but that many people simply won’t understand it. I think that it is well acted, but that many people won’t appreciate the acting because, unlike the actors in more mainstream films, no one in Morvern Callar makes a point of acting. They simply insert themselves into the roles. I think that it is a good character study, but that most people will see it as an unusual but somehow predictable plot. And plot isn’t what this film is about. It’s about making connections and losing them. It’s about how strange life is. And in some ways, it’s about how, wherever you go, you find yourself already there.

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