Review of the movie: Close, sscar-nominated drama by Lukas Dhont takes an unusually sympathetic look at young love and intimacy.
It very well may be a stretch to recommend that Belgian essayist chief Lukas Dhont appreciates putting his characters through a lot of hardship, yet he surely doesn't keep away from it. In his debut film, Girl, Dhont was criticized for his harsh depiction of the transgender experience. He takes an unobtrusive look at young friendship in his second film, Close, which won an Oscar and is now out on Mubi. However, it appears that he becomes bored by his own passiveness and pulls the story away from his characters.
Léo and Rémi, two unusually close 13-year-olds, are played by the young actors Eden Dambrine and Gustav De Waele, who appear to be acting naturally. They frequently sleep in the same bed, play in the same fields, and eat from the same table. Of the two, Léo is more outgoing; Rémi is the calm one. The film's fragile early minutes are dedicated for the most part to noticing them live, and not only exist; Dhont's handheld camera seems to be struggling to keep up with their unpredictable behavior. In one scene, Léo quietly watches Rémi play the oboe and offers to be his manager when they grow up. The film's initial scenes are overflowing with a feeling of trust, and honesty.
Much to their dismay that Dhont has different designs for them. Léo and Rémi's ecstatic bond is burst very quickly after they start auxiliary school. They are mocked by the mean boys, and the curious girls wonder if they are married. Are you dating?” One of them inquires. Léo seethes at the idea, while an injured Rémi withdraws into himself. He probably didn't think Léo would tell the world that she loved him, but he certainly didn't think he'd be offended by the mere suggestion.
Children are more empathetic and sensitive than adults. However, they also lack verbal expression. Also, when Rémi feels shut out by Léo, he dissents — first with words, and afterward with his hands. A jungle gym fight heightens, and the previously indivisible closest companions are twisted separated from one another by concerned grown-ups.
However, as if this symbolic separation wasn't enough, the movie throws in a plot twist so abruptly that you'll have to try to recover for the remaining 45 minutes. This may be the point. But the twist in the middle of the movie is too harsh a punishment for Léo's frequent indiscretions. As well as causing extraordinary injury for him, the film likewise leaves the person driven polish of the primary half for plot-driven show in the second. The film's early scenes of unhurried tenderness are given way, almost jokingly, to a perverse sadness.
However, Dhont is able to lessen the impact of this move by preventing the performances from changing their tone. It is jaw-dropping to watch a scene in which Léo's mother, Léa Drucker, breaks a difficult news to him, even though there is only one closeup. In the very next scene, Dhont literally blocks out all of Léo's noise and focuses solely on his breathing in a great example of the film's excellent sound design.
As Léo joins the school's ice hockey team, the loose-limbed camera becomes more deliberate in the second half. This could be in an effort to appear more macho or, conversely, to conceal himself behind padding. This isn't unlike how Chiron, the hero of Barry Jenkins' Evening glow, constructed a muscly protective layer around himself to divert profound interruptions and boisterous attack. Close, like Moonlight and Call Me By Your Name before it, offers a particularly sympathetic perspective on first love, despite its occasional harshness. And most importantly, it never lets its characters' personalities overpower its progressive ideology.