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Safe by Todd Haynes
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DVD Cover InformationActor: Dean Norris, Julianne Moore, Julie Burgess, Ronnie Farer, Xander Berkeley Director: Todd Haynes Writer: Todd Haynes Producer: Christine Vachon Producer: Ernest Kerns Producer: James Schamus Producer: John Hart Producer: Lauren Zalaznick Producer: Lindsay Law DVD: Region Code 99 Audio: English (Unknown); English (Subtitled); French (Subtitled); Spanish (Subtitled); English (Original Language); French (Dubbed); Spanish (Dubbed) Format: Closed-captioned, Color, Dubbed, DVD, NTSC, Subtitled, Widescreen Picture Format: 1.85:1 Running Time: 119 minutes Published: 2001-08-01 DVD Release Date: 2001-08-21 Audience Rating: R (Restricted) Studio: Sony Pictures
Movie Reviews of SafeMovie Review: Eerie and brilliant Summary: 5 Stars
I should start this review by stating that I'm not a Julianne Moore fan. A few years back a movie came out, called "Nine Months," that permanently turned me off this actress. In that movie, she played a whiny, obnoxious lady in a relationship with Hugh Grant. The whole picture revolved around the hijinks that ensued when Moore's character got pregnant and Grant didn't want kids. "Nine Months" was the most syrupy, sappy piece of fluff I have ever seen in my life. Think a Hallmark movie of the week with the emotional content pumped up on steroids, and you'll have an excellent idea of what "Nine Months" looked like. Oh, just to make it even worse, Tom Arnold and Joan Cusack appeared as these two grotesque superparent friends. Yuck. Despite my misgivings about Moore, I decided to give "Safe" a chance after reading its summary. The movie's premise, about a suburban housewife developing an allergy to modern society, was just too promising to pass up. I'm glad I watched the picture. Director Todd Haynes has scored a big coup with this grim take on American society towards the end of the twentieth century. And what a surprise! Moore actually tugged at my heartstrings in a decidedly non-icky way."Safe" is the story of Carol White, an adrift California housewife in the 1980s. Her life should satisfy: she lives with a husband and child she loves, spends her days doing whatever she wants to do, and lives in a huge house with plenty of money to throw around. What more could any American woman ask for? Apparently, quite a lot. In between the trips to the fitness center, the frequent lunches with female friends, and the important dinners with hubby's business pals, Carol begins to erode mentally and physically. If there's a starting point for this slow descent into illness, it seems to come when White throws a fit over a furniture company delivering the wrong couch. She soon cannot sleep, develops a hacking cough, and always feels bad. Her husband does not help matters. At first, he is sympathetic to his wife's plight, insisting she see a doctor (who finds nothing wrong with her) and offering emotional support. His goodwill doesn't last long, however, as he soon complains that Carol isn't fulfilling her duties as a wife and partner. The additional stress at home only compounds White's vague health problems. A trip to a psychologist offers little in the way of help, nor does a stay in the hospital after Carol has a seizure outside a dry cleaning business. This lady has a big problem, one that hauling around a little oxygen tank will not clear up anytime soon. During the stay in the hospital, Carol finds salvation. An advertisement for a health spa called Wrenwood, located somewhere in New Mexico, promises to help people with unspecified health problems. Convinced this place is the only answer, White implores her husband to take her there. Wrenwood turns out to be both more and less than Carol White had hoped for. The facility is populated with a bunch of people, like White, who cannot seem to function in modern society. Even worse, the chap who runs the place, Peter Dunning, is one of those new age types. Dunning claims contracting the AIDS virus led him to set up the clinic so he can help people suffering from strange maladies. His speeches to his "patients," made in a special room complete with podium, cheesy murals, and musical instruments, convey the sense that this guy's running a cult. He likes to play around with people's minds, too, during intense "therapy" sessions where he tries to convince the patients that they made themselves sick. That may well be true in some of these cases, but the way Dunning goes about trying to heal these people is grotesque. In the end, Carol White is worse off than she was when she arrived at Wrenwood. "Safe" works due to Haynes's masterful direction and sense of atmosphere. On more than one occasion, his cinematic approach reminded me of Stanley Kubrick. Haynes has that same ability to light and shoot a scene that looks like a giant hand squeezed all the emotion and life out of it. This tendency is especially prevalent in the first half of the film as we watch Carol start her slow decline. There's a great scene where we see White standing in her opulent living room, but Haynes shoots it so it looks like a mausoleum devoid of any feeling or life. If you look closely enough, Carol White appears as just another piece of furniture in the room. Amazing, simply amazing, and probably a good hint at the film's central theme. Our heroine really is just another ornament in this house, and her husband treats her that way. I suspect Carol's illness is related to her awareness that her life is essentially empty of meaning. Perhaps the illness is an attempt to get attention from those around her, or her body's way of rejecting the sterile background of her daily life. Whatever the case, "Safe" is a deeply unsettling film that raises more questions than answers. Julianne Moore turns in a fabulous performance as the deeply flawed Carol White, as does Xander Berkeley as her distant husband. Peter Friedman threatens to steal the show, however, as the smarmy Peter Dunning. A commentary track on the disc done by Moore and Haynes seems to shoot holes in any attempt to see the film as a serious commentary on modern life. Both actress and director laugh and giggle a lot during the commentary, obviously getting a kick out of poking fun at the new age themes in the film. Still, "Safe" is an observation on our sick society, and fans of cinema will definitely want to check this gem out posthaste.
Summary of SafeCarol White (Julianne Moore) is a mousy housewife living the affluent life in the San Fernando Valley when, over the span of a few months, she begins to develop debilitating sensitivities to her environment. A permanent at the hair salon makes her nose bleed and her skin go bad, exhaust from a truck causes her to cough violently, she's allergic to the new couch, goes into seizures at the dry cleaner's. No one understands or credits her condition, least of all her husband or family physician. But the symptoms worsen, and Carol eventually discovers others who suffer from similar environmental illnesses. She checks into a desert spa that caters to those in her predicament, and the staff regales her with touchy-feely, infomercial-style affirmations. All of this could have been broad satire, but director Todd Haynes ("Velvet Goldmine") opts for a filming style that captures the empty elegance of Carol's passive lifestyle and looks on with clinical dispassion, so that you can hear the oppressive quiet surrounding her. It's positively eerie, so you know you're not watching just a worthy cause picture or movie of the week. Haynes has more ambition than that, even going so far as to insert a slight buzzing sound in the soundtrack to accentuate the unease. Fluorescent lights? Power lines? Who knows? Maybe it's safe to call it the ominous rumblings beneath the surface of Carol's life, from antiseptic affluence to septic isolation in the spa environment. A model of sustained tone, boasting one of the most remarkable performances by Julianne Moore, from a whole career of remarkable performances. "--Jim Gay" Carol White (Julianne Moore) is a mousy housewife living the affluent life in the San Fernando Valley when, over the span of a few months, she begins to develop debilitating sensitivities to her environment. A permanent at the hair salon makes her nose bleed and her skin go bad, exhaust from a truck causes her to cough violently, she's allergic to the new couch, goes into seizures at the dry cleaner's. No one understands or credits her condition, least of all her husband or family physician. But the symptoms worsen, and Carol eventually discovers others who suffer from similar environmental illnesses. She checks into a desert spa that caters to those in her predicament, and the staff regales her with touchy-feely, infomercial-style affirmations. All of this could have been broad satire, but director Todd Haynes (Velvet Goldmine) opts for a filming style that captures the empty elegance of Carol's passive lifestyle and looks on with clinical dispassion, so that you can hear the oppressive quiet surrounding her. It's positively eerie, so you know you're not watching just a worthy cause picture or movie of the week. Haynes has more ambition than that, even going so far as to insert a slight buzzing sound in the soundtrack to accentuate the unease. Fluorescent lights? Power lines? Who knows? Maybe it's safe to call it the ominous rumblings beneath the surface of Carol's life, from antiseptic affluence to septic isolation in the spa environment. A model of sustained tone, boasting one of the most remarkable performances by Julianne Moore, from a whole career of remarkable performances. --Jim Gay
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