“THE FATHER’S SON”

By Raymond Benson

Throughout the fascinating and seriously creepy film, The Comfort of Strangers, an Italian man named Robert (diabolically played by Christopher Walken) repeatedly speaks about his father. “My father (pause) … was a big man. He had a big black mustache…” The story relates how his father colored his mustache black with mascara after it turned grey, and how no one at the dinner table was allowed to speak unless the father addressed the person first, whether he or she was a wife, daughter, or son. A portrait is eventually formed of a man who was brutally sadistic and controlling. And Robert is the result.

Based on the novel by Ian McEwan, Strangers was adapted by the great playwright Harold Pinter, who turns McEwan’s already strange psycho-sexual drama into something of palpable menace. Directed with style and finesse by Paul Schrader, this Italian-British production brings to an audience a collage of beauty, mood, and horror that only Pinter can deliver with his elliptical dialogue and potent pauses of what is not said. The locale of Venice is also a character in the picture, and movie buffs might be reminded of Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now when viewing Strangers.

Colin (the Adonis-like Rupert Everett) and Mary (the late, radiant Natasha Richardson) are a couple on holiday in Venice. Mary is divorced with two children (who are in England with their grandmother). The subtle tension between the couple is the question of taking their relationship to the next level—that is, should they get married? While wandering the twisty, turny streets of the city, they meet Robert, who at first is friendly enough. He invites them to his lush, expansive home that resembles an art museum. There, Robert’s welcoming wife Caroline (Helen Mirren) reinforces the nagging suspicious that there is something off about this couple. Colin and Mary realize early on that they really don’t like Robert and Caroline, and yet they are perversely and inexplicably attracted to them. Once they visit Robert’s apartment a second time, they are unwittingly ensnared in the web. Exactly what Robert and Caroline have in store for the younger couple, especially Colin, cannot be revealed here! Just know there is sex, more sex, and unexpected violence in the works.

Director Schrader is here working with Italian designers (for example, Giorgio Armani is the costumer) so the look for the film is impeccably gorgeous. The music score by Angelo Badalamenti is also hauntingly exquisite, underlying the melancholy and mystery of the proceedings. As for the acting, it is top notch. Walken shines as the enigmatic villain of the piece. In a supplemental interview, the actor explains that he channeled Italian actor Rossano Brazzi to exhibit charm and sensuality that is distinctly European. Everett and Richardson are so shockingly stunning to look at, both clothed and without, that they cast a spell over the viewer. And Mirren, in a small role, showcases her dark side that she once did so well in many independent pictures before her rise to the super-A-talent category. For this reviewer’s money, though, the stars of the movie are Walken and writer Pinter. In a few of the supplements, the tale is related how Pinter came to Venice for one week of rehearsals prior to shooting. As was his way, not one word of his script could be altered or changed. If an actor didn’t understand something, Pinter would simply say, “Read the text. Then read it again.” By the end of the week, all the actors knew what they were doing.

The Criterion Collection’s new restored 4K digital transfer, supervised by cinematographer Dante Spinotti and approved by Schrader, is a delight to behold. It comes with an uncompressed monaural soundtrack, plus English subtitles for the hearing impaired. The supplements are 2020 interviews with Schrader, Walken, Spinotti, and editor Bill Pankow. Vintage interviews with Richardson and novelist McEwan are also included, plus trailers. The booklet features a marvelous poster with artwork by R. Léveillé and an essay by critic Maitland McDonagh.

The Comfort of Strangers is an art film for discerning viewers who appreciate unconventional tales about relationships, sex, desire, and mystery. As usual, the Criterion presentation is top notch. Recommended.

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