Center of the World is one of those movies that sticks in your mind. Not for the straight-to-video look, and not for the sex scenes (during which Wang mostly focuses on the characters' faces rather than bodies). It's the characters that keep you thinking well after the credits.
Richard Longman (Sarsgaard) starts out as a stock character: the nerdy, socially inept computer millionaire who doesn't know how to get a girlfriend. But Sarsgaard, brilliant as usual shows us his many layers. He gets aggressive with video games; he's instinctively caring, assuming a strong "masculine" role (though it's obvious he's not the strong one). He's a big kid who just wants some intimacy, but doesn't understand the basic complexity of human connection. On the other hand, he's seduced by the surface of things--watching too much porn, he really believes that money and a good time will make those sexy porn-queens care about him. In reality doesn't take the time to get to know Florence at all. His rage and frustration confuse him; he's empty and often resorts to money to fix things.
Florence (Parker) is a bit of a cipher at first. She's cold, withdrawn, business-like. Yet it's clear that as she gets to know Richard, she likes him. She's conflicted about her role as her feelings change--does she want to sleep with him? does that make her any less of a whore?
Many reviewers took sides with one or the other, which I think is a mistake. There's good and bad in both that makes them equally sympathetic. Richard wants intimacy and is a nice goofy guy. But he's also emotionally stunted and more than a little pervy in his desire to buy not just sexual satisfaction, but human connection. He has no right to buy her feelings, but he is allowed to be confused by her lack of them (given their camaraderie)
Similarly, Florence is cold and not a little cruel. But she is also conflicted by her feelings, which are somewhere in that gray area of real affection and sexual attraction. Even conflicted, however, but she doesn't make the mistake of thinking that her feelings are love. He bought her body and even of her enjoyment in the weekend, but he can't just buy a relationship. I don't doubt that she wants him, but after (or during) the point when she gives in, she realizes how much of her desire was fantasy. In the end, she makes the only choice she understands.
The last few scenes--Richard's pointless, (somewhat stereotypically masculine) act of rage, and Florence's cool expression of her sexual independence--reveal how damaged these characters are. And though the ending is ambiguous, the audience instinctively knows that something is ruined between them.
The real trick? Hopelessly, we root for them to heal each other somehow. We buy into the Pretty Woman fantasy, just like they do (Florence less than Richard, but still) We imagine that Florence lets her guard down and learns to care for someone, and Richard tries to connect with a real woman rather than some porn fantasy.
But this is the anti-Pretty Woman (which was a travesty of a film). This is reality.
Not a perfect film, but very thought-provoking.
Richard Longman (Sarsgaard) starts out as a stock character: the nerdy, socially inept computer millionaire who doesn't know how to get a girlfriend. But Sarsgaard, brilliant as usual shows us his many layers. He gets aggressive with video games; he's instinctively caring, assuming a strong "masculine" role (though it's obvious he's not the strong one). He's a big kid who just wants some intimacy, but doesn't understand the basic complexity of human connection. On the other hand, he's seduced by the surface of things--watching too much porn, he really believes that money and a good time will make those sexy porn-queens care about him. In reality doesn't take the time to get to know Florence at all. His rage and frustration confuse him; he's empty and often resorts to money to fix things.
Florence (Parker) is a bit of a cipher at first. She's cold, withdrawn, business-like. Yet it's clear that as she gets to know Richard, she likes him. She's conflicted about her role as her feelings change--does she want to sleep with him? does that make her any less of a whore?
Many reviewers took sides with one or the other, which I think is a mistake. There's good and bad in both that makes them equally sympathetic. Richard wants intimacy and is a nice goofy guy. But he's also emotionally stunted and more than a little pervy in his desire to buy not just sexual satisfaction, but human connection. He has no right to buy her feelings, but he is allowed to be confused by her lack of them (given their camaraderie)
Similarly, Florence is cold and not a little cruel. But she is also conflicted by her feelings, which are somewhere in that gray area of real affection and sexual attraction. Even conflicted, however, but she doesn't make the mistake of thinking that her feelings are love. He bought her body and even of her enjoyment in the weekend, but he can't just buy a relationship. I don't doubt that she wants him, but after (or during) the point when she gives in, she realizes how much of her desire was fantasy. In the end, she makes the only choice she understands.
The last few scenes--Richard's pointless, (somewhat stereotypically masculine) act of rage, and Florence's cool expression of her sexual independence--reveal how damaged these characters are. And though the ending is ambiguous, the audience instinctively knows that something is ruined between them.
The real trick? Hopelessly, we root for them to heal each other somehow. We buy into the Pretty Woman fantasy, just like they do (Florence less than Richard, but still) We imagine that Florence lets her guard down and learns to care for someone, and Richard tries to connect with a real woman rather than some porn fantasy.
But this is the anti-Pretty Woman (which was a travesty of a film). This is reality.
Not a perfect film, but very thought-provoking.