Mike Leigh's last venture, Happy Go Lucky, had the potential to be one of his best yet; a fantastic performance from Eddie Marsan and a clever, thoughtful concept. The experience was ruined, however, by a ceaseless onslaught of jitteriness from Sally Hawkins in her role as the wildly irritating Poppy; but that's another story for another time. For the record, I am told that she's much better in Made in Dagenham, but I digress; my point for today is that Another Year - the latest addition to the Mike Leigh showreel - is a magnificent return to form. The Oscar-tipped ensemble piece was constructed using Leigh's usual drama school devising techniques and takes the film-where-nothing-happens concept to fantastic and moving new heights. Somehow managing to cram an impossible level of involvement and character depth into a plot that doesn't exist, it becomes the mind-boggling cinematic equivalent of a print by M.C. Escher.
I genuinely loved it and it lived up to all the hype. Heavily character-driven, the trailer sets it up as centering around an elderly couple named - wait for it - Tom and Gerri. They themselves are thoroughly content with their lives, their careers, and their relationship, which draws their various unstable acquaintances towards them as the voices of reason - the manner that Gerri has acquired within her job as a therapist certainly doesn't drive them away. They console and advise the damaged souls that pass through their house night after night. It soon becomes clear though, that the real focal cast member is recurrent soldier in the Leigh brigade, Lesley Manville, in the role of the lonely, partnerless Mary. Like a darker Bridget Jones, she tries to put on an entirely transparent brave face after two divorces and the increasing prospect of growing old alone. Manville's use of subtle facial and vocal nuance is compelling and involving, and the script manages to hauntingly reveal her hardships without actually showing any of them.
The narrative pace is, as always, unhurried. It takes slow, considered steps across the minefield of complexity within the characters' relationships, without ever losing the power to hold its audience in full attention. There is also no real resolution but instead a full-circle sense of the continuing happy/unhappy balance. Tom and Gerri's son, Joe, embarks on what seems like an equally contented relationship with his new girlfriend, while Mary is sent into therapy where an older, similarly depressed woman - played by Imelda Staunton - began in the opening scene. I would argue that this harsh, life-goes-on sentiment is the realisation that Tom and Gerri themselves come to towards the end of the film. They move slowly from their sympathetic humouring of Mary and her problems, into a more tough love approach whereby they force her to confront her issues and quell her dependence on their family.
I won't linger on the leading couple, it has been suggested that they can be seen as everything from well-mannered and lovable to smug and self satisfied. It is interpretable in myriad ways, and therein lies the beauty of this film. It is an intimate, considerate portrayal of dysfunction, presented with an ambiguity and a lack of finality that left me reeling at the end.