The Unforgettable Moment
Nine Short Scenes of Women in Crisis
By STEPHEN HOLDEN
EACH of the nine brief scenes in Rodrigo García's "Nine Lives" is a little epiphany that revolves around a different woman under emotional stress. Together they add up to a collection of wrenching, minutely observed moments that suggest Chekhov short stories. Each is written, acted and directed with such exquisite calibration of tone, subtext and body language that the performances seem less like acting than fleeting, revelatory moments of real life captured on film.
The supermarket in which Diana (Robin Wright Penn) and Damian (Jason Isaacs), former lovers now pushing 40, run into each other by chance couldn't be a more banal setting for a shattering reunion. In the fluorescent glare, with barely audible Muzak humming in the background, they reconnect and within minutes dive into the murky emotional depths of their past.
Like the other eight stories in the suite, " Diana" is only about 10 minutes long and filmed in real time. But by the end we've learned more about the inner lives of Diana and Damian than is revealed about most couples in a feature-length movie.
Even before Diana, in the final months of pregnancy, spots her ex, traces of anger and disappointment are visible in her face, as she impatiently pushes her shopping cart through the aisles. When they catch up with each other next to the canned soup section, they exchange friendly greetings and chitchat.
Both are now married. Diana is expecting her baby in August. Damian, handsome in a lightweight hooded jacket, is back in the city after several years and is about to move to a new apartment with his wife, Lisa.
Their conversation ends as Damian extends his hand, and with a tense, too-bright smile, Diana playfully bats it away. The camera trails her from behind as she moves on and then, unable to resist a backward look, turns around to reveal her stricken face.
When they bump into each other again moments later in the produce section, Damian makes the leap back in time.
"Actually, I think about you all the time - the stuff we did, the things that happened to us, the people we were - it was lovely for a long time, wasn't it?" he says in a tone of urgent romantic gravity.
Diana stiffens. "It was lovely by fits and starts," she corrects, adding, "I think we should talk about something else, if we're going to talk."
They retreat into chitchat in which he tells her about his job as producer of a current affairs show for public radio.
Diana's head has lowered, as though she can hardly bear to look at him.
"You never really opened up to me, you know," she blurts.
"That's not true," he replies.
"It is true," she says. "You made me sad for a long time." Trying to lighten up, she remarks: "I'm not hurt, and I'm not angry. It's how I remember it. But none of it matters anymore anyway, right?"
By now Diana is ready to move on, but Damian, abandoning his cart, insists on accompanying her.
"Are you going to have kids?" she asks.
"No," he answers.
"Why?"
"I can't," he says tonelessly. "I'm sterile."
At a loss for words, she laughs nervously, then apologizes.
When they reach the wine section, Damian takes charge and chooses one red and one white as though he had done it countless times in the years when they were together. Diana observes how they're walking and talking "like lovebirds," then covers her face with one hand as her feelings well up.
"Five minutes with you and I always feel like my life is a figment of my imagination," she confesses, exasperated. "You've just always been this thing that swallows me." She pauses. "I've got to go."
She hurries off, then suddenly turns back, anguished. "You can't just come up to me after a hundred years, married, and tell me that you think about me. You can't do that," she says.
"Why not?"
" Do you love your wife?"
"Yeah. Of course I do. You love your husband. And this is different because it's us. We're Damian and Diana. Nothing's going to change it. You might as well accept. You know it's true."
Diana pushes her cart away furiously. But their need to connect drives them to turn around and face each other one last time.
" Damian," she whispers under her breath.
Approaching her, he gently places his hands on the sides of her belly, stoops and softly, reverently, kisses her stomach. For a long moment, they touch their foreheads together, looking beseechingly into each other's eyes. He almost speaks, then stops, and they break apart. She stands there for a moment, her eyes smarting with tears before she continues to shop, dropping a bottle of dishwashing liquid into her cart.
When Diana can't bear it anymore, she abandons her cart and races down the aisles frantically searching for him. Rushing to the supermarket entrance, she peers in both directions, but he's gone. Blackout.
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/15/movies/redcarpet/15hold.html
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Chronicle
embracing the chance to exercise acting chops normally
limited to live theater. Most do so resoundingly, but
two stand out: Robin Wright Penn and Jason Isaacs. In
the film's second segment, which is set in an urban
grocery store on a slow night, Penn's character — a
pregnant woman who looks almost due — bumps into
Isaacs' character, a former lover.
They were passionate to a fault, and their lengthy
affair ended without closure. Though both have
married, they still carry blazing torches for each
other, which flare as they roam the store in hushed
but fervent conversation — first politely catching up,
then laying out their irresistible attraction.
Except for the convenient absence of other shoppers,
all this plays out as real as a scene can get,
building and sustaining emotions through its uncertain
fade-out. By being real, it's all the more affecting.
It's rare that a pregnant woman sparks such
attraction, but Garcia is a woman's director, from his
comparable Things You Can Tell Just By Looking at Her
to Ten Tiny Love Stories.
http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/moviestory.mpl/ae/movies/reviews/3421446
http://www.aboutfilm.com/movies/n/ninelives.htm#links
The second segment is a virtuoso work of cinematography. One of the conceits of the film is that each segment consist of a single continuous Steadicam shot. No cuts. In this segment, the very pregnant Diana (Robin Wright Penn, who is too skinny for the pillow she's wearing), bumps into old flame Damian (Jason Isaacs) in a grocery story. Though both are now married to other people, they are within the space of a few minutes helplessly regressing to old emotions, and their unresolved issues re-emerge. How director of photography Xavier Pérez Grobet manages to choreograph their awkward dance through the store, with all its twists and turns, and capturing every significant glance from three aisles away, is an amazing artistic achievement.
"It’s refreshing to watch it all unfold and worth seeing again. "
"the entire piece is a collective Bravo!"