SOMETHING IN THE WIND
Oscar-nominated Close uses a light touch to share a powerful story of childhood
There's a warm breeze blowing through Close, Belgium's submission to the academy for best international feature, and one of the five final nominees for the Oscar. We hear it early, in a scene in which childhood friends Léo (Eden Dambrine), and Rémi (Gustav De Waele) are lolling next to each other during one of their frequent sleepovers. Leo is telling Rémi a strange bedtime story about a duck and a lizard, and at one point creates a believable sound of wind with his breath.
But it's also present as the boys ride their bicycles together to and from school.
It zephyrs through the fields where Léo's family grows crops of flowers. It wafts past the boys as they play together outside, moving easily from one parental house to the other, more siblings than friends.
Close? They're practically inseparable, a fact noticed by their classmates, several of whom take it upon themselves to question whether the boys are a couple. (I'll admit it: I was wondering, too.)
Léo, the more outgoing one, answers calmly but firmly in the negative. To the more overt bullying on the subject, he stands his ground.
Belgian director and co-writer Lukas Dhont lets the story play out slowly and easily, taking his cues from the rhythms of childhood in which a season, whether inflected by the almost still air of summer or the gusts of autumn school days, seems to last forever.
But of course the wind that is time never truly stops.
A traumatic event midway through this story changes everyone's perceptions, both within the film and in the audience.
I will say no more about it, except to note that it's fascinating to watch the faces of the characters as they react to circumstances.
We see the young boys trying to navigate life and friendship, and watch as their mothers — Émilie Dequenne and Léa Drucker, each matching her onscreen son in looks, both radiating a gentle maternal warmth — offer love and guidance, while at the same time clearly existing as individuals and not just “moms.”
Their casting is a minor triumph in the creation and use of secondary characters. But it is the younger stars who occupy most of our time and attention. That draft you feel in the cinema while watching Close may be your own sighs, perhaps even sobs. No matter. Close may feature an ill wind, but it ultimately does its viewers good.