Those who don’t see that this is one of the best films of the last 10 years don’t get what matters in great filmmaking. This film, like the best of Ozu, Leigh, Cassavetes, Watkins, Bresson, Tarkovsky and many more is great because of the complexities of it’s landscape, in this case being the face ( In Watkins it’s more the voice. These three faces, especially Duplass’ and Aselton, are minefields of tiny explosions. The problem is that today’s viewers are all waiting for something to happen, waiting for the point, for the social or political message, the stylistic breakthrough. Much like the Duplass character they are waiting for some big thing, good or bad, to tell them how to feel when the small moments the film observes tells them everything they need to know.
The “wedding scene” is a minor miracle. Duplass words and his subtle facial expressions at odds throughout., It may appear, from his derision in the following scene that he wasn’t taking any of it seriously. In fact, The film presents us with various possible moods which may be happening at once. He is doubting his brother’s sincerity, wishing he could make a commitment so easily, drunk, tired, etc. Aselton’s investment in the wedding is palpable but the film doesn’t take any sides here. She sees the wedding as a symbol for man and womankind’s problems but that is her perception, not the film’s.
Another outstanding scene is the confrontation with the upholsterer. As longs as he remains behind the garage door we anticipate the confrontation the way we anticipate them in a hollywood film, hoping the jerky salesperson will get what’s coming to them. Once Duplass gets in the old man’s face and berates him the scene just turns weirdly disturbing, yet we aren’t completely against Duplass.
The opening and closing scenes are tremendous. I was on the edge of my seat in the opening scene, in a good way, not because I was worried about some stupid potential violence like in an “edgy” suspense thriller but because the emotions, the full range of them, were flying so fast!
The chair is not a symbol for the film, it’s a symbol for the characters. The distinction is clear from the fact that it’s never mentioned after it’s fate. The symbols for this film, if it had any, would be the three faces of it’s main characters. Perhaps that’s another reason why people don’t get it. Mediocre symbolist films can be charted easily in critical analysis. The scene represents oedipal conflict, that scene represents conditions in postwar italy, blah. This kind of silly charting can even be done to great films, as it has to the list of filmmakers whose work I mentioned at the beginning of this review. To really look at and live within the small, possibly unplanned facial and bodily truths of this film, The Sacrifice, La Commune, Love Streams and many others is really hard and audiences hate hard. Bordwellian types love to chart the duration of scenes, the number of time crucifixion symbolism appears, the number of times american imperialist symbolism appears (Ozu), and other simpleminded signposts they can cram into their ’theory." To delve into the countless small facial and bodily expressions in a Mike Leigh film would kill these guys. What does it “mean” that a characters slightly hunches their shoulders when they say “I love you?” If someone coughs before they make a commitment in one scene, but speaks clearly before making a commitment in another, what does it say about them? If characters talk in baby talk to express true feelings does it mean they are immature or just playful?
The Puffy Chair, like all great works of art, doesn’t answer any of those questions, and it doesn’t answer them quite brilliantly.