Lucas Versantvoort / May 10, 2015
Hungry Hearts. For a film that’s been compared by some to a Hitchcock or
Polanski film, it sure holds a disappointing rating on IMDb. Nevertheless, the
film has one of the better opening scenes of recent years and presents some
interesting ideas despite its plodding pace.
We meet Jude and Mina
in the restroom of a Chinese restaurant. The door gets stuck and so do they. After
the initial awkwardness of their predicament fades away, they bond a little and
we find them in bed together the morning after. She gets a call from work back
in Italy. She’ll have to go back in a month or two. They have sex and before
you know it, Mina’s pregnant. She has a recurring dream about she and Jude
having sex when she suddenly hears a gunshot. It’s a deer, killed by a distant
hunter with a rifle. After the baby arrives, she retreats into her own private
world more and more, seeking to protect the baby from all outside influence.
Unfortunately, this also means no meat, no doctors, etc. When this starts
affecting the child’s development, Jude becomes increasingly torn between his
love for Mina and his paternal instincts.
A psychological
thriller at heart, Hungry Hearts succeeds in presenting the downward slide that
is Jude and Mina’s relationship. The focus mostly lies with Jude, while Mina’s
relegated more and more to saying that what she does is best for the child. It’s
engaging to see Jude trying to get out of the bind he’s in: he wants to
maintain his bond with Mina while also doing what’s best for the child’s
health, but this becomes next to impossible as time goes by.
While Mina gets the
short end of the narrative stick for the bulk of the film, the story does intriguingly
hint at where her (assumedly) postnatal depression started. Rather than seeing
Jude as the victim of her sudden radical change in behavior, I believe the film
hints that he may be partly responsible. Firstly, consider the fact she first
meets Jude in a public restroom where he just finished a…number two. It’s at
least ironic when you link this scene with her eventual obsession with
cleanliness. Secondly, you could argue Jude rapes her when she announces her
eventual return to Italy. He playfully makes love to her, grabbing her hands
and saying something like ‘try to get away now’. It’s all fun and games until
she tells him to not come inside her which he of course does. It’s not ‘rape’ rape, but I doubt ‘consensual’ is a
more accurate description. Basically, the love-struck Jude doesn’t want to lose
her, so he symbolically traps her by impregnating her. It’s also not a
coincidence Mina’s recurring nightmare starts with them having sex, in a
kitchen no less. The whole foundation of their relationship and their baby is
rooted in themes of hygiene, food and entrapment with Mina having no real say
in the matter.
All this and more dominates
the film’s excellent first half hour. Unfortunately, the film tends to get
stuck in a rut after that. The film wants to build up to the decisive moment, a
breaking point in Jude and Mina’s struggle for their baby, but it wants to get
there in a too realistically slow-paced way. We basically get the same type of scene
repeated in a slightly tenser variation. Mina first relies upon Jude’s trust in
her regarding the baby’s upbringing, but when Jude grows ever more suspicious
they both rely upon deception more and more.
There’s also the matter of the
film’s wonderful opening. I’m dead serious when I say this is the only scene in
the entire film that’s meant as funny and endearing. While it does an excellent
job in making us like the protagonists, it’s also depressing when you realize
it’s all downhill after that, resulting in a very serious affair that in the
end conflicts stylistically with the film’s naturally funny opening. I’m also
conflicted regarding the ending: either it’s unethical and over-the-top or it
makes sense in a strange utilitarian sort of way. It’s a good film regardless,
though one with zero replay value.
No comments:
Post a Comment