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Snow Cake
DIR: Marc Evans WRI: Angela Pell PRO: Gina Carter,
Jessica Daniel , Andrew Eaton, Niv Fichman DOP: Steve
Cosens ED: Mags Arnold DES: Matthew Davies
CAST: Alan Rickman, Sigourney Weaver, Carrie-Anne Moss, Emily
Hampshiere
The opening scenes of Snow Cake are awash
with jittery camera-work; nauseating and difficult to watch,
the shots are shaky and unsettled, but this is a misleading
introduction to the movie's true content. As the film progresses,
the camera slows its pace along with the story, and by the
time the shaken Alex (Rickman) arrives at Linda's (Weaver)
door, it has come to a halt. Whilst the spirited Vivienne
(Hampshire) is onscreen, however, questioning and singing
at a nonplussed Alex, the entire world vibrates with her energy.
Once she is gone, leaving a devastated and destroyed Alex
to pick up the pieces, the initial life and energy of the
movie dies.
Alex is a man with secrets, who is taking in
coffee at a truck stop when the bouncy Vivienne asks can she
sit with him. His sad and lonely demeanour is slowly eroded
by her chirpy nature, and he gives her a lift to her next
destination. Unfortunately, tragedy intervenes in their travels,
and he is faced with the terrible burden of mourning someone
he never really knew. His desperation to understand these
feelings drive him to finding her address, and turning up
at her mother Linda's door. An autistic woman who is highly
vocal and independent, Linda doesn't seem to fully understand
that her daughter is dead, and Alex struggles to fill a gap
in her life, and his own, through their exchanges. Through
Linda's regimented life and childlike enjoyments, his rough
exterior is cracked, and he discovers that his ability to
feel has not died with Vivienne.
The almost superfluous under-story of Alex's
physical relationship with Maggie (Moss) lends a romantic
twist to the tale, and a sometimes-welcome escape from the
madness of Linda's house. However, the real heart of this
movie is Linda an emotionally detached stranger in
her own life, whose close relationship with her weird and
wonderful daughter opened her up to feelings nobody thought
she could have. The sensitive handling of autism, and its
effects on both Linda, as an autistic person, and the family
members who try to allow her the independence she needs, is
staggering. Sigourney Weaver bravely tackles the subject,
one which is sometimes mangled in movieland, and shows her
immense talents as an actress extend beyond her own personal
experiences. Rather than portray Linda as another Rain
Man, Weaver injects her with personality, individuality
and independence.
Rickman's capacity for portraying emotion and
feeling knows no bounds, and he holds a hint of cynicism in
his gaze that hugely expands Alex as a human being. Rather
than drown us in sentimentality, Alex slowly unfolds his hurt
and pain, pervading the story with his sorrowful past. Despite
this, the focus is truly on Linda, a woman who has managed
to find her place in a world not particularly sympathetic
to difference.
The director (Marc Evans) found his movie
feet with the abominable My Little Eye, but he excels
here in understatement, allowing his actors to tell the tale
written by Angela Pall a first-time writing
credit. Apart from some ill-advised forays into over-emotionalism,
the movie as a whole rings very true. Though perhaps too 'worthy'
a movie for cinema audiences, it is sure to find it's place
on the rental shelf, and will certainly deserve what attention
it gets.
Sarah Griffin
Rated
15A (see IFCO
website for details)
Snow Cake is released on 8th September 2006.
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