A married couple, Pete and Steph, are driving home from the cinema at night. They have been to see a film called ‘Backwards Glance’ by the acclaimed director, Philippe Voss. Neither of them has heard of Voss before, and only went to see the film on the strength of the review Steph had read in a magazine, which described it as a must see. The film was in French with subtitles, a fact that almost made Pete suggest that they leave and watch something he could understand.
The film covers one of the director’s favourite themes - the power of memory, and its tendency to distort the facts. The central character, Anna, returns to her hometown after many years, following the death of her husband. Her journey home is partly an attempt to find some happiness in the world, and also becomes a voyage of self-discovery as she attempts to reconcile her memories with the reality of her surroundings. As is Voss’ trademark, the film does not end happily. The final scene sees Anna standing at the top of a tall building, daring herself to jump. It is not clear whether she dies or survives, and the audience is left with the impression that although they may have a lot of empathy for the character, perhaps Anna’s living or dying doesn’t matter either way.
Pete is at the wheel.
“Did you enjoy the film?” Steph says after a while.
“It was OK,” he says.
“Only OK?”
“I’ve seen better.”
“Didn’t you think it was wonderful?”
Pete is surprised. “Is that what you thought?”
“Yes,” she says. “Have you not noticed? I’ve been sitting here deep in thought.”
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking all the time,” he says. “Why did you like it so much?”
“It just makes you think, doesn’t it? Makes you think about people, and about life. Not in the way that you would usually think.”
“It’s not really my kind of thing,” he says. “You know what I like. Action films, comedies…”
“But it’s good to see something different sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s good to see something different sometimes.”
“Did you like the film?”
“It was OK.”
“Did it make you think?”
“To be honest, no it didn’t. Not really.”
“So, it made you think a little bit?”
“I suppose so.”
“What did it make you think about?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“No, I’m interested to know what you think.”
Pete thinks about his answer.
“It made me think about people,” he says, “and life.”
*
Later, the couple are lying in bed. Pete is drifting off to sleep when he hears the sound of Steph’s voice.
“Do you know what it made me think about?” she says.
“What?”
“The film. Do you know what it made me think about?”
“No.”
“It made me think, in all of your lifetime, how many people will you actually know? I mean, really know? Out of all the thousands of people you’ll meet in your life, how many of them will mean something to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t expect you to know. It’s a hypothetical question.”
“Sorry,” he says.
“Do you know what I mean, though? Take that scene where Anna meets that old teacher who’d made such an impression on her as a child, and when they meet again after all those years, he has no recollection of her at all. Doesn’t recognise her, doesn’t remember her name. And you know, that’s just like life. It’s understandable - teachers get through hundreds and hundreds of pupils in the space of one career, and they can’t be expected to remember every single one. But at the same time, you can see it from her point of view, how devastated she was when he just looked right through her.”
“So, what’s your point?”
“Don’t you see what I’m saying? I’m saying exactly that. What is the point? What is the point of being alive?”
“Isn’t it a little bit late to be having this discussion?”
“Why?”
“I’ve got work in the morning for one thing.”
“But what’s the point of going to work?”
“OK, it’s definitely too late to have that conversation.”
“Do you want to go to sleep straight away? I thought we could stay up and talk for a little while.”
“We can if you want to. I just don’t want you getting all heavy on me.”
Steph turns on the bedside light.
For a moment, Pete has to shield his eyes. When he pulls his hands away from his face again, he finds his wife is looking him right in the eyes.
“Are you happy?” she says.
“I suppose so,” he says, blinking. “Not everything’s perfect, but things could be a lot worse. Think about all those people less well off than we are.”
“You mean people with less money than we have?”
“Yes.”
“Is happiness all about money?”
“No, of course it isn’t.”
“But you’re right. There are a lot of miserable people in the world. Not just people living in poverty, but people like us. People going about their day to day lives, just existing, because they’ve no idea how to be happy. No idea what happiness means.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying why do they do it? Why do they carry on living? What’s their motivation if they aren’t happy? Is it because they think they might be happy one day? Or is it just because life is all there is? There isn’t anything else. No God. No hope. Nothing. Just life.”
Pete lies down and pulls the covers over his face.
“I’m going to sleep now,” he says.
*
The following evening, Pete arrives home from work to find Steph sitting on the living room carpet, watching TV.
“What are you doing?” he says.
“I bought some DVDs,” she says. “They’re by the same director, Philippe Voss. I’d never even heard of him before yesterday. All these different films that he’s made over the last twenty-five years. Fourteen of them altogether. I watched two of them today.”
“You mean you didn’t go to work?”
“I didn’t feel like it. I wanted to watch some more.”
“Why couldn’t we watch them together in the evening?”
“I couldn’t wait. I know you didn’t really like the film last night anyway, so you don’t need to watch any of these if you don’t want to.” She turns to him with what he takes to be a mocking glare. “You can stick to your action films and comedies.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” he says.
“I didn’t mean any harm by it,” she says.
“Are you going to go to work tomorrow?” he says.
“Maybe,” she says. “I’ll see how I feel. I’ve got these other ones to get through still.”
“OK. Do you not care about how I feel about this? Would you be fine if I stayed off work to sit on the carpet and watch DVDs?”
“It depends. Everyone needs a break every once in a while.”
“Fine,” he says, and walks into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” she calls after him.
“I’m making some food. Do you want any?”
“I’ve already eaten.”
Ten minutes later, Pete returns to the living room with his microwave meal to find Steph sitting on the couch reading a collection of essays on the films of Philippe Voss.
“I got this from the library,” she said. “He’s had such a fascinating life, and he’s so dedicated to his art.”
“So, are you saying you’d like to study him?”
“What do you mean, “study”?”
“I’m saying you could take a film course in the evenings, if you’re interested in finding out more about films. It would be a good way of meeting people who are interested in the same thing, and you could carry on working during the day.”
“That’s a nice idea,” she says, thoughtfully. “Thank you.”
“So, is that what you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
*
“I’ve thought about it,” says Steph.
Pete wakes up with a start. “What?”
“I don’t think I want to do the film course,” she says.
“OK,” he says, “don’t do it, then.”
“Were you sleeping?” she says.
“Yes, I was sleeping.”
“I’m sorry to wake you. I just wanted to tell you. It seemed like a good idea, but then I thought, what’s the point?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what will I be achieving by doing it? I’m not going to be training for a new career, or setting out to discover things that haven’t been discovered. I’d just be learning things that other people have learnt. And what would I do with this knowledge once I have it? Will it make me a better person? Will it change anything about me?”
“You don’t know unless you give it a try.”
“I just think I need to try and work things out for myself.”
“OK. It was just an idea. I thought it might be good for you. It’s obviously something that you’re interested in, and you get pleasure from watching the films, so I thought you might enjoy the course.”
“The thing is, I don’t get pleasure from watching the films. The film we saw yesterday opened my eyes and made me look at the world in a different way, but it wasn’t a pleasurable experience. I don’t really feel good about it, and yet, I appreciate the experience so much, because it was almost as though it was necessary for me to watch it. The films that I saw on DVD today were maybe a further part of that process. Now that I’ve learnt how to see the world in the way that Philippe Voss sees the world, it’s as though I’ve opened up a part of myself that I’ve been ignoring all these years.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it would’ve been better if we’d never gone to see it, and just carried on with our boring lives.”
Pete sits up against the headboard, irritated. “Boring?”
“I’m not saying you’re a boring person, Pete. Please don’t take offence. I hardly know what I’m saying at the moment.”
“Why?” Pete snaps. “Are you going crazy because you’ve seen a film? That doesn’t happen in real life, Steph. People don’t do that. It’s just a made up story, for god’s sake.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it. I wish I’d never seen it. I really do.”
“I understand.”
“I’m sorry, Pete, but you don’t understand. You didn’t understand the film. You didn’t understand what it was trying to say. You sat there and watched it, but you didn’t take it in. You didn’t get the significance.”
“Well, I’ll try to understand, OK? I’ll take you to see the film again, and we can watch it together. How’s that?”
“I don’t even know if I want to see it again now.”
“Well, I want to see it again. I need to understand what’s going on in your head.”
There is silence. Pete lies down and tries to sleep.
*
‘Backwards Glance’ has now finished its brief run at the multiplex. Pete and Steph have to wait a few days until the film is shown at a nearby art house.
After a couple of days’ absence, Steph goes back to work, and tries to carry on as normal. However, her colleagues can tell that she is not her usual self, and she self-consciously tries to avoid any unnecessary conversation that might make matters worse.
At home, Pete also talks as little as possible. He doesn’t want to start an argument, or end up making Steph feel even more depressed. He worries that perhaps she is having some kind of crisis, and although a number of explanations are running through his mind, he tries to avoid blaming himself. There is nothing he could have done to prevent Steph from feeling the way that she feels. All that remains is for him to try to make things right.
When they arrive at the cinema, it seems as though neither of them particularly want to be there. They have both seen the film before. Pete didn’t like it the first time he saw it, while Steph was so moved by the experience she’s not sure she can handle another dose.
As Pete watches, he tries as hard as he can to take it seriously. There must be something that Steph is seeing that he isn’t, if only he can find it. It’s as though he’s searching for hidden messages in the screen.
By the end of the film, he begins to realise that the “message” behind the film is a simple one: people change as they get older, and sometimes when we look back on our childhood, we focus on certain aspects of it, and not on others. Pete was already aware of this before he sat down to watch the film. If he’s learnt anything, it’s that perhaps his wife needed to see the film, and he didn’t. To him, it was obvious. Maybe she’s just a lot more naïve than he is.
As Steph watches the film, she is once again captivated. She sees things that she didn’t see the first time around, and is able to delve deeper into the subtle complexity of Voss’ work.
All the while, she is aware of her husbands’ lack of enthusiasm. It is apparent in his body language, and she can almost read his thoughts. It’s all so obvious, he’s thinking. I haven’t learnt anything from this film that I didn’t know already.
Poor old Pete, she thinks. He has such a logical mind. He doesn’t understand a work of art when he sees one. Doesn’t see the point of it. It’s not his fault; it’s just the way that he is.
When they step outside, she turns to him, and smiles. “You didn’t like it, did you?”
“Not really,” he says. “I tried, honestly.”
She puts her arms around him, and holds onto him, tight. “Thanks for coming with me, though. It means a lot that you came. Next time, you can choose the film.”
“What shall we do now?” he says. “I thought maybe we could go for a drink.”
“Yes,” she says, “we haven’t gone out for a drink for ages. It’ll be like the old days.”
“There’s a pub just round the corner,” he says. “Maybe we could leave the car here and get a cab.”
“OK,” she says.
He smiles. “I need a drink after sitting through that pile of crap again.”
She laughs, and hangs onto his arm as they cross the street.
For a moment, she feels just like a child again.
MAGIC REALISM
