Albert Nobbs is a study in tasteful restraint. But that doesn’t mean it’s slow, passionless or dry. Rodrigo Garcia’s film trades in subdued emotions and subtle currents of longing that are deeply felt, driven home by the great performances of leads Glenn Close and Janet McTeer and a screenplay that’s attuned to the sense of wonder — and the longing for something better — that accompanies the pursuit of an unlikely dream.
Close stars as the title character, a devoted and rigid butler at a small 19th century Dublin hotel. Albert has a secret, of course. He’s a woman, living as a man to work and save enough money to open a small tobacco shop. When the obsessive, justifiably paranoid Albert meets Hubert Page (McTeer), a handyman facing the same predicament, he’s inspired to begin opening up, moving forward in his store-owning aspirations and fomenting a romance with the deceptive maid Helen Dawes (Mia Wasikowska).
The real story of Albert Nobbs begins and ends with the terrific acting. The lead part offers Close — who co-wrote the film and co-produced it, after having played Albert on stage — her greatest acting challenge. She meets it with a fullness of being, the sort of comprehensive disappearing act that characterizes the best performances. With a modicum of dialogue and a wealth of complicated, internalized reactions, Close succeeds at imbuing Albert with the strength of spirit that belies the indignities he faces.
McTeer’s fierce performance as Hubert displays a sort of progressive pride that drives home the character’s primary function — to show Albert that there is another way to live. He’s the catalyst that opens the protagonist’s heart and mind to the possibility that his time has finally arrived, to the thought that he might well have found his escape from a life of secrets and servitude. The actress offers an ideal counterbalance to Close’s overarching restraint, a literate, decidedly modern take on a 19th century figure that frames her as a woman carving out her destiny as she sees fit, however unconventionally.
There’s never any sense that Albert might actually achieve his dream of running the tobacco shop with Helen. The film stresses its impossibility by relentlessly focusing on period social mores, establishing and playing out the class and gender divisions that have forced Albert to disguise his identity. At the same time, a subplot involving Helen and her true love Joe Macken (Aaron Johnson) stresses the dark ulterior motives underlying her involvement with Albert.
But Albert Nobbs would be a less authentic character study had Garcia indulged in flights of fancy. Whether things end happily for Albert is not, after all, the point. This is a movie that dwells squarely within the interior world of its protagonist, indulging in the hopeless optimism of life’s possibilities, not the unrelenting despair of its realities. It’s a snapshot of Nobbs at a time of great joy after years of hardship, when it finally seems as if things are going his way.
The Upside: Glenn Close and Janet McTeer.
The Downside: Mia Wasikowska’s character is underdeveloped and the movie doesn’t leave the lasting impact of a great piece of cinema.
On the Side: This is a passion project for Close. She won an Obie for playing Albert on stage in 1982 and spent years trying to turn into a film.
Welcome to the last DVD column of 2011! There’s been quite a bit of chatter about how dismal of a year it was for film, but while there’s no doubt the box office haul is lower than the year before the same can’t be said for film quality. This week’s releases include the dirty fun of A Good Old Fashioned Orgy, the cool deaths (but little else) of Final Destination 5, two found footage films of varying quality (The Tunnel, Apollo 18) and two future cult classics (Kill List, The Skin I Live In) possibly worth an import for folks who don’t want to wait several more months for US releases.
Most people, as they recover from seasonal snacking comas and hangovers brought on by liquid medication for too much concentrated family time, spend these last few weeks of December reflecting on the year past. While fellow Reject Landon Palmer pointed out earlier today that 2011 has already been lauded as a “quiet” year by many of our peers, I would like to address how cinematic sex and relationships embrace this quietness through an enveloping theme of sadness. As base as it might sound, a lot of tragic shit went down in 2011; from the Arab Spring to the Occupy Oakland riots to the honoring of ten years post-9/11, this year was a study in human perseverance. And as great art always succeeds at doing, film mirrored the world’s rising tension, air of tragedy, and sense of loss time and time again.
We begin this evening with a fun 
It’s really a shame. One of the positive by-products of the studio system’s reluctance to hire strong, visioned directors has been a decent uptick in actors and writers stepping into the director’s chair. They’re being welcomed, and those uninterested in the mainstream are also putting their own blood, sweat, and financing into making art their own way. Sadly, not all projects will make it through.
Hedy Lamarr was a darkly beautiful, iconic star of the 30s and 40s, probably best known for her starring role in Cecil B. DeMille’s Samson and Delilah. She is also, apparently, a great inspiration for Anne Hathaway as she crafted her Catwoman/Selina Kyle character for Chris Nolan’s forthcoming The Dark Knight Rises.
Audiences expecting more of the brand of large maturity found in The Lord of the Rings trilogy might be surprised when they check out The Hobbit. Especially people who’ve never read the books. Same director. Same world. Different style.
