As a filmmaker, Todd Haynes just kept missing for me. Movies like Safe and Velvet Goldmine both should’ve worked but ultimately fell short. The fact that Far From Heaven was a riff on the grand old Technicolor melodramas of the 50s in general and Douglas Sirk in particular (an era and filmmaker I’m not particularly in tune with) only served to convince me I wouldn’t totally like this movie either.
But Far From Heaven is a gorgeous, gorgeous film. The art direction and cinematography are jaw droppingly mesmerizing. In a decade dependent on bone rattling and ear splitting SFX and CGI, this was willfully and skillfully old school. Throughout it, I found myself happily watching the screen like I would a painting in a gallery.
Not that there wasn’t more than simply pretty pictures to keep a viewer interested. With the likes of Julianne Moore, Patricia Clarkson* and Viola Davis on board, the performances kept pace with the scenery. It was Dennis Quaid’s unsuccessfully closeted gay husband that roared most mightily. His drunken, Paul Lynde-esque outburst at a house party should’ve notched him a Best Supporting Actor Oscar and if it did maybe we would’ve all been spared watching him in stupid movies like Smart People and G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra.
* OK. Thinking about Patricia Clarkson, I remembered another movie from the past 10 years that, had it come to mind earlier, might’ve made it into the top 20 around this spot. The Station Agent from 2003. Let’s number it 15b.
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