Morvern Callar, directed by Lynne Ramsay, is the story of a grieving: Morvern comes home to find her boyfriend James has cut his wrists. Her grieving takes the form of trying on different identities (and hairstyles!)—"Jackie" whose necklace she's found, "Olga" on holiday in Spain, "Morvern" the novelist—until, at last her own self disappears in the maelstrom of a rave.

Or so it seems. This is a film that deals in multiple readings and ambiguity. In the opening sequence, Morvern seems to be caressing her sleeping lover's body. It's a few moments before the camera moves to show us that he's actually dead.

It's also a film that tells much of its story by sound, and not much by the spoken word (which is all to the good, for this American found friend Lanna's Glaswegian dialect heavy enough to wish for subtitles). In that same opening sequence, we can hear the sound that Morvern's fingertips make on James's skin, over the buzz of a rheostat that controls a flashing string of Christmas tree lights.

And the movie's music, featuring Aphex Twin and Can, should make a killer soundtrack CD. In an effect that is used once too often, the conventional music track cross-fades to the sound of the same song leaking through the earphones of Morvern's Walkman.

There is also something of Polanski's Repulsion in this flick, in the way that Morvern steps over James's corpse to pop a pizza in the oven, and her growing obsession with creepy-crawly bugs.

I saw the movie at Visions, DC's answer to Film Forum. Had a drink in the bar beforehand, listened to Radiohead on the sound system and watched Carnal Knowledge with the sound off. Not a bad evening.

posted: 11:12:04 PM