'Close' Tells A Sincere, Painful Tale About Childhood
Melancholic and tragic Close is a unique insight into childhood. Anchoring the story is Eden Dambrine, who plays Leo. Dambrine provides a searing performance that requires much from a child actor. In all of its dreamy atmosphere, Close is a very human story about childhood relationships that exceeds the typical coming-of-age narrative mechanics. There are still the familiar high school bullies, but much of the film doesn't fall back on recognizable cliches to tell a rich story about two kids whose friendship is scrutinized by masculinity.
Most coming-of-age stories develop the kinship between their subjects by showing how they meet. Director Luka Dhont skips that approach throwing us right into the middle of Rémi (Gustav De Waele) and Leo's relationship. The boys share an incredibly close bond, if not unusually close. Within its opening minutes, Lukas and Rémi are sleeping in the same bed together. Before falling asleep, Lukas gently breathes air into Rémi's face. Is it meant to be romantic? No. Yet the bond the two share together comes into question amongst their classmates.
Lukas and Rémi's social interactions primarily revolve around girls who jest about Lukas and Rémi being gay. Lukas denies the jokes vehemently. To make matters worse, some of the boys bully Lukas by calling him the F word and not the one that rhymes with Duck. The gay slurs cause Lukas to lash out at Rémi. Rémi doesn't understand why Lukas is acting the way he is, causing friction between the two. Lukas pushing Rémi away is an incredibly real thing that happens in school. You have to belong to a certain circle. Except everyone wants to be in the most popular circle. Lukas pushes his best friend away to fit in with as many kids as possible. This act of cruelty is done out of fear. "If I keep hanging out with this guy, everyone will think I'm gay." Homophobia runs rampant in schools. Kids throw around the F word like it's candy. It's inexcusable to use such language as an adult. In adolescence, children try to navigate a world they don't understand. Eventually, they learn not to think or act a certain way. But that doesn't excuse how difficult school may be.
Lukas Dhont tells a tale few do about children so honestly. Kids can be bigoted monsters. Their words are hurtful, and that hurt trickles down to those who want to be happy. There's nothing wrong with Lukas breathing air in bed next to Rémi, but societally many can view that as odd. How close Lukas is to his friend isn't a problem until others make it one. Many friendships get destroyed because of the cruelty of others. The ways it affects Lukas' life is very telling. The guilt Lukas carries is an unnecessary burden.
Once a happy child Rémi is now an outcast who doesn't fit in with other children. Kids can be cruel. Sometimes they don't know why they are. How their words truly affect those they bully escapes their comprehension. Never thinking about the consequences for harassing other students.
Cinematographer Frank van den Eeden shoots a dreamlike film. The frame is colored with dark orange golden hour light, accentuating the joys of childhood. When everything comes crashing down, those sunbathed days of glory aren't so bright anymore.
The film's minimalism is its strength. Like most indie films made on a low budget, much of the picture is shot handheld with almost no score attached. When the score is present, it's diegetically through the school's orchestra. One scene, in particular, lets the music drive the characters' feelings. The camera slowly pushes itself on Rémi's mother, Sophie (Émilie Dequenne). As the strings swell, so do Sophie's tears as she worries about her son. The score does play non-diegetically but only during the film's opening and closing moments providing an auditory crescendo to Lukas Dhont's poetic movie.
Close isn't perfect. Dhont's succinctly indie style can be dry. Some scenes involving hockey could be trimmed, but the film's structure within its one-hour and forty-four-minute runtime ticks along at a fast yet methodical pace. Lukas Dhont takes his time but doesn't drag the narrative through a boring slog. Close is one of the more truthful films about childhood I've seen in a long time that's worth viewing for its sincerity alone.
Close is opening in theaters on February 4
