45 Years

Saw this movie on a chill, dark day, snow falling softly, the first of the year. Likewise, the movie was quiet and dark, nothing to inspire a flare of awe or any kind of feeling in me, actually—just a story of two people in underlit rooms, and, they learn, an underlit marriage, even on the eve of celebrating its 45 anniversary.

I looked longingly at Charlotte Rampling. C’mon, you’re a beauty. Dazzle me! You play a deeply intelligent and proud character! Surprise me!

But she refused to be a circus monkey, entertaining on command. Laudably, I suppose. Her gaze was obscured by heavy lids. She wore unflattering cotton shirts and ill-fitting jeans. She smiled wryly at times but otherwise seemed joyless. Again, commendable that she stayed true to the appearance and mood of her character. Here, she is in the prime of her beauty, without the gloss and glamour typical of the film stars of her day.

Measure: Charlotte Rampling

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