The inequities – the different levels of satisfaction, of aspiration, of expectation, in such a relationship are not lost on Polley. When Margot, finally piping up, makes an incoherent criticism of the couple’s routine, Lou’s response, “what-the-fuck are you talking about?”, rings true. Why should he know? He’s never been told.
By way of contrast we have the artist from across the street. He loves to talk. He’s a nice guy too. Where should our sympathies lie? Polley, in a concession to her protagonist’s subjectivity (because we always know who the bastard is in real life, er, don’t we?), maintains a level playing field. As doubt creeps into Margot’s mind, Polley allows the voice of supporting characters to become a little louder – Sarah Silverman’s recovering alcoholic in particular enjoying a late moment of clarity on the audience’s behalf.
This is the rather interesting aspect of Take This Waltz; it’s the antidote to male prejudice; the kind that often bleeds into romantic comedies written by men for women. Forbidden fruit Luke Kirby isn’t unmasked as a womaniser, nor does he go under a truck in the third act. Polley refuses to punish him for threatening to break up a loving couple. That’s very grown up of her. Even handed you might say. It’s almost as if this movie demurs in judging women for loving more than one person. What’s next for God’s sake, female nudity in a non-erotic context?Pages: 1 2 3