​Polley's Waltz

Jeff Forst

After her first movie Away From Her made a big splash in the world’s film community, it seemed writer/director Sarah Polley’s second project, Take This Waltz, would earn the same kudos. Instead, her low-key, Toronto-shot drama about a love triangle went virtually unnoticed and ended up in the 99-cent rental category on iTunes soon after release. A dynamic woman on the brink of being a Canadian icon made a movie and nobody noticed. What happened? Turns out, Take This Waltz is a sneaky serious drama weighted with philosophical gold that was sold as a cute, average romcom. This disconnect between expectation and product was too big for most mainstream moviegoers to bridge.

 

As problems go, first off is the lead performance by Michelle Williams (of Dawson’s Creek fame) as Margot. From the first frames, it’s obvious Polley the director is in love with her surrogate character. The “female-gaze” camera worships the ground Margot’s feet alight upon wherever she goes through the attractively-shot hipness of boho Toronto: trembling lower lip, runny nose, splotchy cheeks, teary eyes and all. Your appreciation of Take This Waltz will depend on your tolerance of Williams playing a navel-gazing, twenty-something naïf who cannot choose between her loyal, boring hubby and the exciting, new neighbour across the street -- whom she met on her work vacation in Nova Scotia paid for by Parks Canada. By halfway-through, the moviegoer who savoured the nuanced portrayals by Julie Christie and Gordon Pinsent in Polley’s award-winning debut, Away From Her, may want to throw Margot and her loyal electric fan into the jazzercise pool that she peed in.

 

Seth Rogen (Knocked Up) as Margot’s subdued partner of many years is a risky casting choice. Known for his dick jokes and stoner roles, goofball Rogen’s presence often alienates ticket-buyers. Surprisingly, his character provides much of the emotional gravitas herein and he somehow pulls it off. It’s to Polley’s credit as a director and actor that she is able to coax such a subtle, affecting performance from Canada’s brashest clown.

 

As his cuckold, Luke Kirby plays the role meant to ignite libidos and make people wish Margot would leave her drab man. Problem is: Kirby’s an unknown non-factor. His role both attracts and repels the viewer, depending on where Margot’s magnet is facing. There’s no-one to latch onto for those seeking a heroic heartthrob.

 

The script’s treatment of Kirby’s character is how Polley’s film artistically sets itself apart; to its box-office detriment. Often, Hollywood loves to paint the hunky alternative to the deadbeat old lug in glowing hues. Without getting into too much spoiler detail, Polley takes us on a journey past their honeymoon phase to the next crossroads where Margot questions whether her heart made the right decision after all. Either way, she learns there’s no going back down the trail of life; even if one might want to. In the finale, Polley pulls out her trump card: a circling-camera montage of wild passion that devolves into muted fatigue months later -- all set visually to the saggy, titular Leonard Cohen song. If that doesn’t sound like your typical romcom finale, it’s not. Polley has always been unafraid to choose her own path, ever since she walked away from a starring role in Road to Avonlea as a girl: when Disney told her to take off her peace sign at an awards ceremony. Even as a young star, she distanced herself from all the other teen princesses. Perhaps the root of Polley’s old-soul contrary nature, as evidenced by the first two movies she’s directed, is best embodied during Waltz’s post-jazzercise scene in the pool’s female showers. Margot’s younger trio of women discuss the merits of old versus the new when it comes to the men in their lives. Opposite them in the other stalls is a group of senior women going about their washing business. The segment is notable for foreshadowing Polley’s less-than-upbeat ending, the wisdom in the group conversation and the unabashed, natural exposure by all-ages. The sentiment shared by young and aged? Even new gets old.

 

Given the chance to capitalize on her hard-earned industry goodwill, Polley eschewed commercial success in favour of a quirkily intimate tragicomedy. It’s hard to get too aggro on her for this rarity, no matter how far Polley’s gaze turns inward.