There's a Dylan Thomas quote that's loomed large in my considerations over the last few months, "What stands for grief, a vague bewilderment/ at things not turning right." 'A Single Man' (Tom Ford, 2009) is an achingly stylish portrait of a man awash in that bewilderment. George (Colin Firth, deserves every accolade he's getting) is a gay college professor who has lost the love of his life, now planning his own suicide. On what is potentially the last day of his life, he falls into Proustian reveries of moments past and delights in the smallest of pleasures - a little girl's blonde hair, a beautiful set of lips, a scent, sunlight, the drag of a cigarette.
As helmer Ford is a mammothly successful former fashion designer the film has copped considerable flak for being an exercise of style over substance, but this criticism misses the film's point. The style IS the substance - the sharp colours and delectable beauty of the moments where George loses himself in the minutiae stands to illustrate how the beauty and value of something comes into sharpest focus right at point where you are about to lose it. The film is not plot-driven, and many have argued it is shallow, but I would argue it is about nothing less significant than the question 'what is worth living for?' George has no valuable answer to this following the loss of his love, and the film languidly follows George as he wrestles with it.
A striking and accomplished debut from Ford.
Also, I'm incredibly grateful to Colin Firth for remaining so Smokin' Hot as he ages. I initially fancied him as a 12-year-old, his 'diving into the pond scene' in Pride and Prejudice a catalyst for my nascent sexuality, so that he's still hot tottie now that I'm of age shows particular dedication on his part. Thanks, Colin.
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