A few household matters. Firstly, did you know that The Deep Blue Sea stars Rachel Weisz? Ah, you did. Rachel – Rachel – Rachel, she’s in practically every scene. But I reckon many of those familiar with Weisz’s smoldering charms will not have seen director Terence Davies’ directorial style in action. Put it this way, he’s a genius but he’s no Roland Emmerich…
Secondly, those wanting to see the resurrection of Samuel L Jackson after his hilarious shark-munched death in Deep Blue Sea will be disappointed. That crucial addition of a ‘The’ in the title means they’ll be watching a teary world-war melodrama instead. Whoops.
Now that’s over I can begin. The Deep Blue Sea tells the story of Hester no-job (Weisz) who is mostly unhappily married to William (Simon Russell Beale) – job: High Court Judge and eases the boredom by having a steamy(ish) affair with Freddie (Tom Hiddleston) – job: pilot, who doesn’t love her nearly as much. Therein lies the entire triangular plot. However, as the movie is based on a Terence Rattigan play, Davies delivers the story in Rattigan’s signature reserved wry style.
Dialogue is crisp, sometimes witty and often sparse as the camera endlessly lingers on Weisz. Her time on screen is spent primarily giving herself a slow death via lung cancer in between bouts of suicidal depression, the camera always fluctuating between her wavering and stiff upper lip. But there is no denying that The Deep Blue Sea is evocative and dreamy. I commend the attention to detail applied to the setting, background and costumes.
The script on the other hand, is beyond dated. I chuckled when Freddie started speaking. Hiddleston can’t be expected to play anything other than a caricature of a cocky young war hero with no role in post-war society when all his lines are cliché. The script is littered with an embarrassment of ‘jolly good show chaps’ not always meant with irony.
And the use of music is exemplary until it becomes ridiculous. I loved the perfectly-pitched group war songs, but it insults the viewer to hear a crescendo of violins every time Hester experiences an ‘important event’.
However, the real problem with The Deep Blue Sea is that we now live in a movie world that is steeped in melodrama, so this story seems like a big fuss over nothing. For example, Hester is supposed to be battling with her mother-in-law in tense dinner scenes, but it’s nothing that a nice bit of cake and a hand-pat wouldn’t resolve. Dramatic tension should have arisen from the scene and not be lathered on with the soundtrack.
Finally a warning: there is no deep blue sea anywhere in this film. It rivals a snail for pacing, so is absolutely worth watching as an antidote to blockbuster cinema. But the antidote deadens the nerves a little too well. In parts, Nothing. Actually. Happens.
Endless images of Hester crying, William mooning and Freddie drinking were misjudged. It was so beautiful to look at but I couldn’t engage with the leads and their apparent problems.
If you enjoy a tale of feelings that can’t be properly overcome because, well, we’re just so ruddy downtroddenly British, please watch The Deep Blue Sea. I did like it. But my recommendation is to wait for it on DVD and fast forward Weisz’s pained face. Life is too short to spend all of the 98 minute running time watching a bunch of upper-middle-classers flop about, all in dangerous need of a collective slap.
If you want vintage Davies watch his compelling documentary Of Time and The City. If you want vintage Rattigan watch 1958 masterpiece Separate Tables starring David Niven, Deborah Kerr and Rita Hayworth. But if you watch The Deep Blue Sea you might just find it a bit wet.
