
Introduction
Knife in the Water set the standard for Polanski. For his directorial debut, it was nominated for Foreign Picture at the Oscars, losing out to Fellini’s 8 ½. If you lose out to a film considered one of the greatest of all-time, you can go home proud. Suffice to say, Polanski was sought after, eventually turning to England to create Repulsion and Cul-de-sac. A troubled production – Donald Pleasance turned up in a Lincoln to the blustery, small village, whilst Francoise Dorleac joined production with a small dog named Jarderane. Hardly small-scale, it remained true to Polanski’s roots – claustrophobic; a small three-way cast; use of deep-focus, etc. “Cul-de-sac was decidedly a Roman Polanski film. Its obsessional tone, its fascination with the mechanics of power and humiliation” (Polanski: The Filmmaker as Voyeur by Barbara Learning) On set, Polanski became demanding and brutal – not least because he had clearly based the film on his relationship with Basia Kwiatkowska, which ended four years prior. Though associated with many hallmarks of his films – this film particularly had a deeply personal edge.
The Castle on a Hill
The story is set-up as two criminals are fleeing the scene of a crime. Akin to Reservoir Dogs, we don’t see or know about the heist or robbery – but for whatever reason, they wind up on Lindisfarne. Albie (Jack MacGowran) has been shot, and can barely move; Richard (Lionel Stander) has been shot in his arm, so he seeks help and finds recently-married couple George (Donald Pleasance) and Teresa (Francoise Dorleac), who live within an old castle on the island. Teresa is unfaithful – our first sighting of her is topless with a neighbour’s son; George is weak and clearly cannot control his considerably younger wife – who we assume has married him for money.
In a direct parallel with The Ghost (titled The Ghost Writer on its US release), the family are isolated; cut off from the outside world as the phone line is disconnected. The marshy landscape and surrounding water combined with an upper-class elitism of the married couple, again connect with the Pierce Brosnan/Ewan McGregor thriller.
Power Games
Unlike The Ghost, though both films have an interest in the role of a powerful female, Cul-de-sac has a clear comedic edge – mocking the childish weakness of Donald Pleasance against the “Lan–dangangster” of Lionel Stander, who carries a certain Alan-Sugar-like charm.
The sexual-politics are established early on – from the reveal of Teresa’s infidelities through to the awkward manner that George is introduced, standing as a child carrying a kite. In this opening sequence, we witness the dynamic through the eyes of Richard – or ‘Dickie’ as he comes to be known – as he checks out the building before making his intentions known; again, Polanski places us in the place of the voyeur. But it seems ‘Dickie’ is not seduced by Teresa either – Dickie represents the stronger, dominant male opposed to George who, through the humiliating requests Teresa asks of him, is reduced to a bumbling outcast. Teresa almost becomes an accomplice to Dickie as she assists in digging the grave of Albie after he dies from his wounds – and consequently mocks George, laughing and drinking with Dickie. Hardly an example of the supportive wife. In a similar manner to Repulsion, though a key female-role, Teresa is never supported in her frustration of George. Though we laugh at his fear, her lack of support and ridicule of him ensures that she is never seen in a positive light either.
Why, come on in!
If the tone is unclear from the outset, when a family unexpectedly visits the castle, the humour is suddenly heightened. From the married-man who is flirting outrageously with Teresa through to a change in role as Dickie, to remain in the castle until his “boss” finds him, takes on the ‘Gardener/Butler’ job to keep up appearances. Guns are fired; stained-glass windows are broken. Though tense, we all stifle a chuckle when George fails to even hang his own picture back on the wall after a brief discussion of his artistry.
When researching Knife in the Water, it was clear that his exploration into social-issues was a rare theme he tackled in his debut, but I do believe that Cul-de-sac manages to touch upon some basic assumptions between the elitist, ignorant upper-class against the rough, hyper-masculine working class. Dickie manages to mock George tremendously to Teresa’s amusement and, only in the final moments does George manage to re-affirm himself and protect his wife. Of course, it’s too late then, and the guilt, shame and anger at his own initial inaction combined with the self-destructing nature of his flawed attempt at protection (destroying the only way of escape; giving Dickie an opportunity to use the tommy-gun) leads to only further upset. Knife in the Water ended somewhat ambiguously as characters continued their life with no clear change – whilst Cul-de-sac finishes as George, akin to Gollum in The Hobbit, perches atop of the rock, crying out about his own fate. He has lost the love he adored – not through the actions of others – but through his own inaction.
You need only look to the end of Chinatown to see a striking parallel – as Nicholson looks to his love, and sadness overwhelms him. They have lost their love – and they blame themselves. Though Nicholson’s ‘Gettes’ is not alone, George is – and as the credits role on the top of George’s misery it would be wrong to let him wallow in his own sadness. We want to comfort him a little and tell him: Forget it George, its Lindisfarne.
Originally written for/published on Flickering Myth on 15 January 2013
Originally written for/published on Flickering Myth on 15 January 2013