Close Your Eyes meditates on connections to the past with captivating lived-in anguish

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Close Your Eyes meditates on connections to the past with captivating lived-in anguish

As I delve into the profound world of “Close Your Eyes,” I find myself deeply moved by its poignant portrayal of human resilience and the quiet turmoil that lies beneath the surface. Having traversed my own fair share of life’s stormy seas, I can’t help but resonate with the characters who, much like myself, have learned to navigate their trials without hope or fear.

In Victor Erice’s 1973 film The Spirit of the Beehive, a young girl named Ana (played by Ana Torrent) develops an affection for the character from the movie Frankenstein. Even after her sister clarifies that the story is not real, the emotions and turmoil of Frankenstein’s creation continue to captivate Ana’s imagination. Amidst the tumultuous post-Spanish Civil War era and a less-than-ideal home life, Ana finds solace in an imaginary monster. This thought-provoking film by Erice and Ángel Fernández Santos delves into the therapeutic power of cinematic imagery. Through fiction, we are able to grapple with challenging aspects of our world and ourselves.

In a return to full-length storytelling after four decades, director Erice’s film, titled “Close Your Eyes“, delves into familiar themes but from the perspective of the elderly instead of adolescents. Co-written with Michel Gaztambide, the script starts in 2012, two decades following the mysterious disappearance of a once popular actor, Julio Arenas (played by José Coronado). This vanishing act left his last movie, “The Farewell Gaze“, incomplete. The unfinished film is just one of many lingering emotional gaps that Garay, the director and lifelong friend of Arenas (portrayed by Manolo Solo), has had to endure throughout the years. As he approaches his 70s, Garay has come to terms with never discovering the truth behind a man who significantly influenced his life.

In the early 2010s, I found myself drawn into a TV show alongside friends of Arenas, revisiting his mysterious disappearance. As I navigated my own past, whether it was frequent visits with my editor friend Max, brief meetings with Arenas’ daughter Ana, or running into my old flame Lola, each encounter subtly weighed heavy on a man who cherished his simple life by the sea, surrounded by his journals, canine companion, and fishing duties. Despite the exhaustion of dwelling on the past, it clings to us like a shadow. Witness how Garay and his old associates continue to ponder Arenas’ fate even now.

What’s your method for keeping the past alive? Mere mental recollections aren’t always enough. People, in their natural course, often collect physical mementos that symbolize significant experiences. Keepsakes from trips, wounds turned scars from serious accidents, a Polaroid of cherished moments, these are all tangible connections to our past that we carry with us into the present. As I compose this review, remnants of my past adorn my writing area. Movie posters of favorite films, snapshots of joyous times with friends, and an enlarged selfie of a late beloved relative. These are all tangible pieces of history that I can physically feel today.

In Victor Elice’s “Close Your Eyes,” tokens of the past are consistently highlighted as significant. During the story, characters like Garay touch objects that might appear insignificant or disposable to others but hold deep emotional weight for them. For instance, in Max’s apartment, a seemingly silly portrait of Garay’s unmentioned son stirs strong emotions when Garay encounters it. Max explains that he keeps the portrait because it reminds him vividly of his last conversation with Garay’s son before the tragic motorcycle accident.

Prior to tonight, Garay was unaware that Max owned a caricatured sketch of their shared late son. Yet, they’ve spoken about the subject before. There’s a sense of familiar sorrow in every word exchanged between these two friends. They often discuss their cheerful departed child in the past tense, but such conversations never become any less difficult.

Steeped in sorrow, the worn postcards and exaggerated likenesses in “Close Your Eyes” seem to echo my own feelings, adding depth to the film’s poignantly melancholic dialogues. Erice’s masterpiece resonates on multiple levels, but it’s also a story about people trapped in circumstances they can’t change. Just like everyone else, Arenas disappearing doesn’t raise any eyebrows. Similarly, Grayas, Max, Ana, and other characters are powerless against the relentless progression of time. They’ll all age whether they wish to or not. Even Ana, resignedly accepting a mundane museum tour guide job, reflects this theme. She must earn a living and support her child, a reality imposed by the unyielding forces of capitalism.

The narrative of “Close Your Eyes” portrays a group of individuals grappling with their powerlessness in various aspects of life, including capitalism, aging, and emotional trauma. The proposed resolutions to these problems offer little solace. Max’s guidance on aging is essentially about embracing it without fear or expectation. The subtle depiction of their struggles under capitalism, aging, and unresolved emotional issues heightens the drama as they are left with minimal strength to protest the harsh realities that unfold. Exhausted by the relentless brutality of life, Grayas and his peers can no longer vocally challenge it; instead, they try to support each other in their quiet endurance.

In Close Your Eyes, the characters’ expressions, dialogue deliveries, and movements are heavily influenced by decades of emotional resignation due to their inability to resolve or cure larger struggles. Solo, in particular, portrays the deeply suppressed pain in Grayas’ eyes exceptionally well. Despite living with this emotional turmoil for many years, it doesn’t simply disappear. Instead, Solo skillfully conveys this reality in a remarkably realistic manner. Performers like Pardo, Torrent, and Villamil also display similar levels of detail and tangibility in their individual roles. These finely-tuned performances transform the dialogue-heavy aspect of Close Your Eyes into a remarkable strength rather than a weakness.

As a gamer, I appreciate how the eerie ambiance is skillfully built up in this game, subtly emphasized by Federico Jusid’s score that fades during extended dialogue sequences. The silence where his compositions should be allows the raw emotions between these characters to linger palpably. It feels like these characters are grappling with their unspoken feelings, and overpowering orchestral cues would only mute that jagged vulnerability. There’s a restrained elegance in the visual design by Erice and cinematographer Valentín Álvarez as well, which keeps the overall tone somber and immersive.

The cinematography is skillfully understated so as not to overshadow the acting and dialogues. Yet, it packs an emotional punch when necessary, using powerful visuals that tug at your heartstrings. For instance, consider a panoramic shot showing Grayas departing from his home on a new journey. After he exits the scene, his devoted dog approaches the gate and barks fervently for its master – a poignant moment symbolizing the plight of a creature helplessly subjected to circumstances beyond its control.

In a hushed manner, “Close Your Eyes” portrays a world that’s tumultuous and frightening, one we may never fully grasp or dominate. Amidst this chaos, how do we discover tranquility? At times, our only solace might be holding onto relics from yesteryears to make the current moment more endurable. Just like Ana in “The Spirit of the Beehive” and her fixation on “Frankenstein”, a simple doll in “Close Your Eyes” serves as a link to her father. Although Ana acknowledges that an underpaid assistant probably bought the Christmas gift instead of her dad, it’s one connection she has that affirms, yes, her father was more than just the films he acted in.

1. In a picture with Arenas from their days as young sailors, Grayas experiences a brief comforting emotional moment. Similarly, a character from the movie Close Your Eyes finds solace in tying knots, an activity that provides an inexplicable emotional resolution for him. Furthermore, Max is not merely an editor but also a preserver of old films on reels. Despite the shift to digital media led by corporations, Max holds onto these remnants of the past to prevent them from disappearing completely. These reels hold lives, costumes, creative aspirations, and so much more that would have been lost forever if not for him. It’s as if they were never filmed or lived at all. In the midst of the world’s unpredictability and tumultuousness, they can persevere.

In these two sequences from “The Farewell Gaze“, Julio Arenas seems to resurface. He’s no longer absent; instead, he is present in these daily recordings or cherished items held dear by his family members. Through the incredibly moving filmmaking and performances in “Close Your Eyes“, we can grasp the importance of objects that make life endurable or the past touchable. Immerse yourself in a darkened cinema to witness another masterful cinematic achievement from the creator of “The Spirit of the Beehive“.

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2024-08-29 03:15