A Single Man

The way of love is not a subtle argument.

The door there is devastation.

—Rumi

Devastating; and beautiful is what I would call the film, A Single Man. Directed by Tom Ford, it is based on the Christopher Isherwood book. Throughout the film one feels the loss and anguish of the George, a gay man in closeted 1962, who grieves for his partner who has died in an automobile accident. The film is a romantic story of the loss of love. Since the death, George seems cut off from the color and activity of everyday life—in fact, he is drowning—he can’t breathe and is sinking into a dark abyss. Throughout the film he seems so separated—the isolation of the human condition—from those around him; even his best friend Charlotte does not truly understand him and his relationship. The best part of the film is the importance of living in the present and cherishing the seemingly small moments in life. The film points out the importance of those moments in life when we connect to other human beings. George waxes, “You know the only thing that has made the whole thing worthwhile has been those few times when I’ve been able to really truly connect with another human being.” So often we rush from here to there, blithely greeting our neighbors, family, colleagues and friends without really connecting. It also points out the few moments of grace one can experience. I have had times of great anguish when my perception of beauty has been starkingly heightened as if to assuage the pain I feel. Or I can have discovered a truth about me that makes sense, finally. Or times of feeling loved or being loved unconditionally, and the freedom it brings. Or being able to forgive unreservedly, and unshackle myself from resentment. George comments,

“A few times in my life I’ve had moments of absolute clarity. When for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think. And things seem so sharp. And the world seems so fresh. It’s as though it had all just come into existence. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, the fade. I’ve lived my life on these moments. And I realize that everything is exactly the way it’s meant to be.