Francois (Deon Lotz) is a middle aged Afrikaner trapped in middle class domesticity. He runs a timber mill in Bloemfontein and shares a house with his wife and daughter, Anika. His relationships with both women are strained; he sees his daughter as disobedient and rebellious, while his wife is little more than an occasional sparring partner. Her occasional meanderings into throwaway political quips are few and depthless. It could be that Francois’s relationship with the missus is troubled by the possibility of her having an affair, and that he’s not getting along with Anika because she pursues her passions, which is in strong contrast to her father’s forceful stoicism. In this light, it seems as if Francois is the only one who does not get what he wants, and what he wants, is twenty-something Christian (Charlie Keegan).
“Skoonheid” is about the obsessive pursuit of desire as an older man lusts after a younger one. Put differently, “Skoonheid” is about a crisis of desire, of a man so used to the mundane that the younger man’s youthful freedom is so consuming to Francois that it threatens to completely derail him. “Skoonheid” is about looking and waiting; the film’s impressive opening shot in fact establishes the film as Francois’s story because we see what he sees, and sometimes how he sees it as well. The camera pans slowly from right to left and comes to rest on a newly wedded couple receiving words of congratulation from a line of friends and family. Past the happy wedding guests in the background we meet Christian as the camera slowly, patiently zooms in on his face. He is visibly comfortable in his skin and in the situation, where he makes obligatory small talk. His being is far removed from Francois’s, to whom the film cuts once Christian has been established, and it is clear that Francois sees something he desperately wants and cannot have.
Writer-director Oliver Hermanus (“Shirley Adams”) approaches the material with solemnity, knowing that the story should not be rushed, that he is dealing with characters and not plot mechanisms. Often the film is distant and detached, and are we allowed to not only see Christian as Francois sees him, but to also watch Francois watching Christian. In this way, and not through overly manipulative music or dramatic dialogue, are we gradually pulled into the story.
“Skoonheid” is frank about sexuality, and there’s a particularly explicit, brutal scene late in the film. But “Skoonheid” is never indulgent or gratuitous; Hermanus is too sensitive and too intelligent for that. Francois never sees himself as gay; he simply wants to have sex with a man. Because Hermanus knows that style complements character, the sex is not eroticised, but is portrayed simply as fact, as something that must happen.
As a lingering character drama brave enough to tackle notions of repression in a traditional Afrikaner milieu in graphic detail, “Skoonheid” emerges as a mature, challenging drama. For most of its running time, I could see exactly why the film has been surrounded by so much positive buzz since its much publicised premiere at Cannes earlier this year. But then it ends, and it is here that the film lets the viewer down. Throughout, the film relies on a variety of ambiguities – of character, of situation – to add nuance to the story. The film doesn’t pander to its audience.
I understand the purpose and function of ambiguity, and I’m all for open-ended narratives. But after what “Skoonheid” shows us, I couldn’t help but feel that we – and Francois, and Christian – deserve more than what Hermanus leaves us with. I’m not asking for anything sensational or even concrete, just an ending that is as visually and thematically powerful as its opening scene. I was reminded of the ending to “Y Tu Mama Tambien”, where a brief café encounter set the characters straight without over explaining anything. And for all its flaws, “Brokeback Mountain” had an unforgettable final shot that quietly emphasised the tragedy of the story. “Skoonheid” lacks a similar final visual or thematic punch.
This should not deter one from seeing the film. Though it won’t have the box-office take of a “Liefling” or “Jakhalsdans”, it is “Skoonheid” that will remain far longer in the mind.
“Skoonheid” is about the obsessive pursuit of desire as an older man lusts after a younger one. Put differently, “Skoonheid” is about a crisis of desire, of a man so used to the mundane that the younger man’s youthful freedom is so consuming to Francois that it threatens to completely derail him. “Skoonheid” is about looking and waiting; the film’s impressive opening shot in fact establishes the film as Francois’s story because we see what he sees, and sometimes how he sees it as well. The camera pans slowly from right to left and comes to rest on a newly wedded couple receiving words of congratulation from a line of friends and family. Past the happy wedding guests in the background we meet Christian as the camera slowly, patiently zooms in on his face. He is visibly comfortable in his skin and in the situation, where he makes obligatory small talk. His being is far removed from Francois’s, to whom the film cuts once Christian has been established, and it is clear that Francois sees something he desperately wants and cannot have.
Writer-director Oliver Hermanus (“Shirley Adams”) approaches the material with solemnity, knowing that the story should not be rushed, that he is dealing with characters and not plot mechanisms. Often the film is distant and detached, and are we allowed to not only see Christian as Francois sees him, but to also watch Francois watching Christian. In this way, and not through overly manipulative music or dramatic dialogue, are we gradually pulled into the story.
“Skoonheid” is frank about sexuality, and there’s a particularly explicit, brutal scene late in the film. But “Skoonheid” is never indulgent or gratuitous; Hermanus is too sensitive and too intelligent for that. Francois never sees himself as gay; he simply wants to have sex with a man. Because Hermanus knows that style complements character, the sex is not eroticised, but is portrayed simply as fact, as something that must happen.
As a lingering character drama brave enough to tackle notions of repression in a traditional Afrikaner milieu in graphic detail, “Skoonheid” emerges as a mature, challenging drama. For most of its running time, I could see exactly why the film has been surrounded by so much positive buzz since its much publicised premiere at Cannes earlier this year. But then it ends, and it is here that the film lets the viewer down. Throughout, the film relies on a variety of ambiguities – of character, of situation – to add nuance to the story. The film doesn’t pander to its audience.
I understand the purpose and function of ambiguity, and I’m all for open-ended narratives. But after what “Skoonheid” shows us, I couldn’t help but feel that we – and Francois, and Christian – deserve more than what Hermanus leaves us with. I’m not asking for anything sensational or even concrete, just an ending that is as visually and thematically powerful as its opening scene. I was reminded of the ending to “Y Tu Mama Tambien”, where a brief café encounter set the characters straight without over explaining anything. And for all its flaws, “Brokeback Mountain” had an unforgettable final shot that quietly emphasised the tragedy of the story. “Skoonheid” lacks a similar final visual or thematic punch.
This should not deter one from seeing the film. Though it won’t have the box-office take of a “Liefling” or “Jakhalsdans”, it is “Skoonheid” that will remain far longer in the mind.
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