In the Town, Where I was Born...

... I love that song.

Submarine (Richard Ayoade, 2011)

I had high expectations for this film, and I'm pleased to say I wasn't at all disappointed. A real comfy jumper of a movie, Submarine wraps you up in mundane familiarity (mundane meaning everyday, not boring), fills you with warm fuzzy feelings, and best of all, makes you laugh out loud. Or it did me, anyway.

I think we can expect great things from Mr. Ayoade. Comparisons with Wes Anderson are certainly apt. The slow pacing, the tongue-in-cheek self-awareness, awkward people comedy, slow reveals, long establishing shots that allow the scenes to play out within them (wherein lies the comedy), the idiosyncratic 'weird' characters that feel so real because they are actually individuals and not archetypes. Nobody's perfect, and no one really knows what they're doing. Classic off-kilter comedy, and Ayoade delivers with panache. It's important to view Ayoade as a filmmaker in his own right as well, a mere Anderson imitation this is not, his work stands firmly on its own feet, and is as quintessentially British as Anderson's is American.

I won't spend time (as I never do) giving a plot synopsis, there are a thousand reviews you can read that will do this, so I won't bother! Let's move straight on... Visually, this film is charming, opening with a series of lingering landscape shots, obviously Welsh, a combination of rolling hillsides and grey industrialism. The gorgeous soft lighting instills even the harshest of landscapes with a strange sort of beauty. Soundtrack-wise, this is another one of those too-cool-for-school films (think Juno, Garden State et al), and so yes, I will probably buy the CD.

Submarine has something of the student film about it, and that is not a detrimental comment in the slightest. What I mean here is that Ayoade has succeeded in making a film that I as a film-student would have wanted to make. Of course, I couldn't have done so in a million years, but this, in essence, is what we were striving for on those rainy shoots and Red Bull-fueled editing all-nighters. This film has a massive heart. It's about things that matter; people, relationships, identity, without it being some Loachian woe-is-everyone tear wringer. No showing off either... the closest Submarine gets to SFX is a the occasional shot of a bin on fire.


As a character, our hero Oliver Tate (almost an anti-hero, but not quite), is caught constantly between a sort of try-hard nihilism "I don't believe in scenery" and a try-even-harder heart-on-sleeve romanticism, in everything he does. He is in desperate pursuit of a certain kind of cool, as he points out in his own voiceover, seeking the sort of enigmatic allure achieved only by penniless bohemian artistes, who are probably French... quote "It might be something of an affectation, but I have taken to reading the dictionary."... you get the idea. And we've probably all been there. I will own up, there's a certain part of me that always wanted to be the pale interesting girl in the corner, reading something intellectual . Unfortunately, I've just got too big a mouth on me for that dream ever to be realised.

Deep down, Oliver Tate is boy who just wants everything to be right in the world. He seeks a sort of filmic perfection in everything. Raised on Hollywood guff as we all were, he sees the early days of his romance in blissful super8, almost whilst said days are still happening - a eulogy of the present almost. In the same way, he misguidedly seeks to save his parents ailing marriage by spying, falsifying love letters, and more obtusely, urinating on the possessions of the man who seeks to steal his mother's heart.

The supporting performances here are excellent. Oliver's parents, played to perfection by Sally Hawkins and Noah Taylor are a vision of endearing, quiet dysfunctionality. Paddy Considine is a joy as the bonkers new age neighbour (possible pervert), giving off a similar vibe to Swayze's motivational speaker in Donnie Darko (Richard Kelly, 2001), but with healthy comic twist.

To sum up, Submarine is fabulous. In many ways a love letter to cinema itself, full of reverence and references. I kept expecting a freeze frame on the beach a la 400 Blows (Francois Truffaut, 1959). There's a bit of a Cahier du Cinema vibe throughout actually, in the self-awareness, soft visuals, stark title displays and the joy the film takes in the beauty of small things and small moments. I'm slightly surprised this didn't end with a great big Godard-esque "FIN", or might that be something of an affectation?

Images from : movie-meanings.com; warp.net; and dontpaniconline.com - with thanks.