Director David Gordon Green creates a master
work of a seemingly simple film, that invokes a style of character and story development, more closely resembling the oft canonized Swedish film maker Ingmar Bergman, than any American film ever. Yes, I said it! Sorry Woodie, you wish you would have come this close, but you always missed, as hard as you may have tried. No homage filled replica here. This film does not try copy the Maestro, it succeeds of its own accords, as does the director and the protagonist Angelo. Make no mistake, this is a completely American film, Texas, no less! Full portions of heavy symbolism, religious iconography, painfully walled up emotion, hints of self-destruction, and inner monologue, on which to feast. (Thankfully no Texas drawl for Pacino's character.)
A lovelorn locksmith, able to open any lock, except the one chaining his broken heart from a long lost love. His only emotional availability is to his zeitgeist white cat, and his granddaughter, both of whom are available for him to love, because they give without demanding much in return. He is a kind, giving man on the surface, often uniquely so, but with strictly constructed boundaries he cannot breach, not even for his only son, the product of a marriage mistakenly consummated as an early, unsuccessful solution to the unrequited love "elephant" weighing on his soul. We are encouraged because balloons, like love, are meant to fly freely. The only thing we're missing is Shakespearean sonnet 116 on the subject.
His magic white cat even ingests the only key to the door that keeps him from realizing his inner folly, the secret, heavily locked door allowing the possibility to heal his kingdom from within. His concern for her (she stops eating) allows him to begin this journey to redemption. Not even the interest of a comely single woman, Dawn (Holly Hunter) whom he starts to date, can induce him to pull his head and heart from his sorry ass of grief. Could it be anymore symbolic, than to name her Dawn? The woman who initially is willing to actually sweep his fumbling mistakes under the carpet. Bringing on the most poignant of scenes, as he cannot refrain from pining over his lost Clara during a low-cost, non-invested dinner date, with the tortured Dawn. (Her last straw)
This begins what may prove as his final descent toward self destruction. It begins with a used car radio ad; his knowing/unknowing visit to a massage parlor, run by a sleazy guy he once successfully coached in baseball as a kid, reminiscing of when Angelo once magically touched his heart. Angelo suddenly, and violently rejects this reciprocal favor. His distant son then comes to him for financial help he cannot give him. (the Vet bill as excuse) Separating them for what seems to be the final time. Angelo has no money, or compassion for his son, yet.
He picks up his now healed cat. He washes his work-van, and begins to clean his storeroom, and soul. (Vet-saved-cat standing by, oh yeah, the key) "Bazinga"
He now has room for his "new Dawn" will she accept the contrite, unlocked, locksmith? He also opens his heart to his son.
And to end this all, we finish with a mime, that actually finds a way to speak to our healed Lochinvar, (more freely flying balloons) who has discovered a way to, now, open locks without a key. What's a Bergman main course, without a little Fellini for a light dessert?
Review of Manglehorn
