Woody Allen. Has there ever been a more peculiar character in cinema than Woody Allen? Probably yes. Nevertheless, Allen is both a genius at his craft and a self-destructive oddball.
With a career that started in rather basic, slapstick-style comedy routines, Allen soon graduated into sophisticated, almost experimental films in the 1970s. Annie Hall lives today as one of the most well-known pieces of cinema history, yet watching it you can’t help but feel that a film like Annie Hall simply wouldn’t be understood by today’s moviegoers. Amongst all its charm, wit and charisma, it’s really an odd film.
That, however, is something that could be said about almost all of Allen’s features. He is odd, and his oddity reflects in his work. Oozing from his idiosyncrasy, though, is pure originality. Just try and find another film with a script and photography like Manhattan, an unnerving twist of the knife like Match Point, or indeed the intensity and disquieting echo of Interiors.
Interiors is Allen’s 1978 foray into serious drama, having hit the high notes at the box office a year earlier with Annie Hall. With Diane Keaton again in-front of the camera, though in a smaller role, Allen’s film tells the story of three sisters, two of which are at the centre of the story as they feel their way through the difficult separation of their parents.
From the very first scene, it becomes clear that something is wrong with this family. While Joey (Mary Beth Hurt) and her boyfriend Mike (Sam Waterston) are in separate rooms of their apartment, Joey’s mother Eve arrives unexpectedly. She’s an interior decorator, and she’s brought a rather expensive vase that she thinks will work perfectly in their apartment. Mike and Joey are not excited to see her, and even less excited about the vase’s price tag. Joey, however, sees storm clouds gathering.
Geraldine Page gives an astonishingly disturbing performance as Eve, the lonely mother of the family.
Soon enough, we find ourselves at the family’s house in the Hamptons. Joey and Renata (Diane Keaton) are at the table when their father (E. G. Marshall) lets it be known that he intends to move out. He wants a trial separation. To their mother Eve, this simply means she’s now alone.
Interiors is one of those rare films where all aspects of the production seem to weave perfectly into something utterly amazing. Each scene seems to be photographed in a way that creates darkness around the edges, with only just enough light to tell what’s going on. The weather is always bleak, the colour palette bland, the expressions on the actors’ faces seems to say “is this it? Is this what I’ve been waiting for?”.
Diane Keaton as the sour Renata
While receiving mostly praise, Interiors has been accused of being pretentious and not really knowing its characters. I don’t agree with either of those sentiments. Regardless of what films you may compare this one to, Allen has certainly created characters that I felt were genuine and unique. Many aspects ring true to experience. Sometimes I think people confuse dislike for a character and the way they handle their dilemma with an apparent artificiality.
These people aren’t necessarily nice. If you met them, especially Keaton’s Renata, you’d likely accuse of her being a fake snob. But amongst all of that, as presented by Allen they are genuine.
As for being pretentious; well, we’re dealing with a family of artists. Of-course there’s going to be some pretentiousness. At one moment, as Dianne Keaton’s Renata has an apparent “out of body experience”, she comes across as a complete arty-wank nut bag. But Renata is academically narcissistic and self-obsessed – she is pretentious. The film itself, however, is merely providing insight into the characters.
Later, as we are introduced to Pearl (Maureen Stapleton), the father’s new lady friend, the colour palette is broken by her bright red dress and talk of sunny Greek beaches. This is living, we are told. But as Pearl soon reveals (with superb subtle precision by Stapleton), she’s not entirely convinced that her penchant for red dresses and tendency to behave like an animal after a few drinks necessarily equates to “living”.
Then there’s the climax, which takes place amongst the wind and fierce tides of the Hamptons beach house. Intensely moody and quite disturbing, you probably won’t want to come back for more from these characters. You will, however, spend quite some time pondering Interiors.
