Close (2022)

There seems to be a contingent of people who are working laboriously to position Lukas Dhont as the next great filmmaker. Some have categorized him as the heir apparent to Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne, who have been the sovereigns of small, intimate Belgian dramas for decades, a position for which Dhont has supposedly been cited based on his debut film (the acclaimed but controversial Girl, which caused quite a stir in terms of its portrayal of gender identity and its choice of actors to bring that story to life) that seemed to hearken back to this kind of social realism about very serious issues. His sophomore effort is Close, in which he tells the story of two boys who develop a very strong friendship over the course of a summer, only to find themselves subjected to scornful remarks and bullying from their peers, which causes an enormous tragedy that pulls them apart. It’s a simple premise that seemingly has very little hesitation in putting the viewer through the emotional wringer in its pursuit to tell a story that is actively trying to be moving, and it likely works better for those who are willing to surrender to the overall sentimentality that propels the film. Dhont is far from untalented, and he has a keen eye for detail in terms of narrative and visual components, which do assist in elevating Close beyond the garden-variety drama we would normally expect from such a story, making it a relatively effective and genuinely compelling exploration of childhood, taken from the perspective of a young man who had only just entered into the formative stages of exploring his identity, only to find his entire life dismantled as a result of his inadvertent refusal to abide by conventions. It all converges in a bleak but beautiful depiction of identity that may contain very strong emotions, but uses them for the greater good, even if it may not be to every viewer’s specific tastes.

We are currently living in an era where the rise of newer voices in cinema has allowed more diverse stories to be told, with many directors taking the opportunity to represent different pockets of culture previously unseen in film, or rarely given enough detail. As a result, social realism is undergoing something of a re-evaluation, with more intimate stories built on simplicity replacing more conventional narratives that were previously seen as more cinematic. There are so many of these films being produced, and they’re rarely anything less than totally captivating and engrossing, whether for their social critiques or very touching portrayal of life in a particular culture. Dhont has aligned himself with this movement, both of his films being well-crafted and meaningful coming-of-age dramas that feel drawn from a place of profound interest in exploring certain issues surrounding identity in contrast to social conventions – and while it isn’t as raw and gritty as some of the films that may have inspired him (instead being quite stylish, a few sequences being achingly beautiful), there is an undercurrent of authenticity that aids in making Close a far more compelling film that others that look at similar material. Dhont had quite a challenge, since there is nothing particularly unique about this story, he needed to find new ways to explore certain themes without having to construct them and run the risk of working with concepts that were out of the scope of the specific story he was trying to tell. Close is not perfect and has a few questionable aspects, but it undeniably has a strong focus on a few themes from which it rarely deviates, which at least allows it to be relatively genuine in its worldview, with any shortcomings being found in the execution rather than the conception, which is often the case for social-realist dramas and their pursuit of authenticity, which many discover is far more difficult than just capturing everyday life and claiming it is a depiction of reality.

Close is a film driven by its performances, and Dhont puts most of his effort into making sure that the film is composed of a small group of very strong actors who were capable of fitting into this world. There are few elements that make a realist film feel less authentic than actors who can’t temper their performances to fit the specific constraints of the story, whether being too hysterical or relying heavily on disingenuous tics. Mercifully, everyone in this film understood the requirements – some of them more than others, but where the entire cast seems to be operating on more or less the same level when delivering these performances. The focus is obviously on Eden Dambrine, who takes on the central part of the young man forced to not only question his identity as he navigates the ambigious space between childhood and adolescence (a challenging time for anyone), but also has to grieve the loss of his closest friend, who was taken away from him as a result of societal bias and their friendship’s refusal to adhere to the status quo. Dhont has spoken about how he was compelled to cast Dambrine after encountering him in everyday life, observing his extraordinary expressivity, which matched the requirements he had for this character – and it is very obvious that he was courted for this film solely on his ability to tell a story with movement and expression, to the point where even being able to deliver the dialogue effectively is an afterthought. Dambrine is excellent in the film, and while he does have a few moments where he stumbles slightly (as is expected from younger actors), he does mostly turn in a very strong performance that fits in well with the general tone of the film, delivering on expectations while also elevating the film. The rest of the cast also does quite well, with Léa Drucker’s performance as the protagonist’s loving mother, and Émilie Dequenne’s smaller but impactful role as the grieving parent of a boy who lost his life to depression after experiencing social scorn, being highlights of this film. Once again, much like the storyline, the actors are uniformly responsible for helping Close stand out, since they effectively navigate some very challenging material with nuance and honesty, which is a tremendous asset to a film that needed strong performances in order to realize all of its ideas, which are often far more complex than they appear at a cursory glance.

Unfortunately, Close is not a film without flaws, and we find most of them manifesting in how Dhont approaches this story. To his credit, telling a story about pre-teen suicide and the experience of losing a friend or family member in such a way is not an easy theme to explore, and we do have to view the film through the lens of trying to understand the director’s challenges in actually bringing such ideas to the screen. There are very few ways of looking at these ideas without making use of many emotions, with the only alternative being a stoic and harrowing account, which could be far too overwhelming, especially when we realize Close is as much about the theme of death and grieving as it is exploring the beauty of humanity, and the importance of forging connections with those around us. However, admirable intentions are not enough to excuse some of its more troubling issues, and without being too cynical, it’s important to note that this film teeters dangerously close to outright emotional manipulation. I am naturally hesitant when it comes to films that cover such tricky material, especially when they are centred on children – they are paragons of morality and innocence, and they rarely place these characters in positions of being outright unlikable (unless it is purposefully done to cause the audience to distance ourselves from younger characters, which is the complete opposite of what was done here), so the audience is just naturally inclined to feel a connection to them. Close is not completely overwrought, but it does depend on the viewer’s willingness to surrender to the often excessive emotions that underpin these stories, and for those who are slightly more cynical or seek more authentic depictions of emotion, this film may be slightly too on-the-nose to be fully embraced, especially if we want a more intricate depiction of these ideas, which warrant as much authenticity as any other theme that we found throughout this otherwise decent and compelling film.

Close is a film that was clearly designed to tug on the heartstrings and stir a reaction from the viewer, and considering this is often the intention of many works of art, it is difficult to criticize it or claim that it doesn’t know how to effectively utilize its themes in a way that doesn’t feel manipulative. The overabundance of constructed emotions is not indicative of a poor film, and it is still a relatively well-made effort that knows how to create an atmosphere in which the audience is passively observing an increasingly sad story. However, there is an argument to be made about the role of heavy-handed emotiveness in contemporary cinema, and how directors tend to manipulate viewers to feel certain sensations, which often covers up narrative shortcomings. It’s easy to have extended scenes of the protagonist running through fields or embracing another character when you don’t have much to say outside of the central issue, which reaches its apex midway through the film, with the rest of the story focusing on the aftermath. Once again, this doesn’t imply that there isn’t any artistic integrity to be found in this film – Close is very effective, and it’s a remarkable work when it comes to looking at more socially-conscious themes, which manifest in increasingly haunting ways, and which Dhont contrasts with several incredibly beautiful scenes. This is certainly far from the most blatant example of emotional manipulation, and it has a lot of merits – and the fact that it does contain a decent amount of artistic integrity and a strong story does help elevate it far beyond a run-of-the-mill example of the issues many faces during their formative years. It’s well-made, heartwarming and has moments of genuine impact – it just often depends too much on the excessive emotions, losing sight of the more interesting details that are pushed to the sidelines in favour of a very sentimental story about loss and identity, two powerful themes that could have been explored in several different ways, this film just being one of many that struggle to find the perfect balance between intention and execution.

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