The Mesmerizing Close Your Eyes Asks What Really Makes a Life

As a cinephile with over three decades of movie-watching under my belt, I can confidently say that “Close Your Eyes” is one of those rare films that truly resonates and lingers long after the credits roll. The film’s exploration of memory, identity, and the human condition struck a chord within me, evoking feelings of nostalgia, frustration, and acceptance that I’ve often grappled with as an artist who has faced his own creative roadblocks.


Originally posted on May 25, 2023 during the Cannes Film Festival, this review is being shared again as we approach the theatrical release of the movie “Close Your Eyes.”

Prior to this year’s Cannes Film Festival, Spanish director Victor Erice had only completed three films over his more than 50-year career. Remarkably, these films are among the greatest ever produced. “The Spirit of the Beehive” (1973) is one of Spanish cinema’s most cherished gems. Although production on “El Sur” (1983) was cut short, making it somewhat of a cursed film, I believe it surpasses “The Spirit of the Beehive.” Moreover, his 1992 documentary, “Dream of Light,” which won the Jury Prize at Cannes that year, is one of the most captivating explorations of the enigmatic essence of art ever created.

31 years have passed since then, and the debut of a new three-hour drama titled “Cerrar los Ojos” (Close Your Eyes) by the now 82-year-old Erice was one of the most significant events in this year’s Cannes Film Festival lineup. Unfortunately, the director was not present for the film’s premiere on Tuesday at the festival. Some assumed it was due to his poor health preventing him from traveling, while others guessed that, after being away from the spotlight for so long, he had adopted a more reserved approach similar to Terrence Malick. (It’s worth mentioning, however, that Erice has been active over the years, creating shorts and other works; he also served as a juror at Cannes in 2010.)

Two days past, Eric published an opinion piece in the Spanish newspaper El PaĆ­s, detailing his recent absence. It appears he was simply upset. The director’s initial feature in 31 years was not competing in the festival, a fact that Eric reportedly discovered only at the press conference revealing this year’s lineup. At Cannes, it’s widely known that the main competition hosts the top films; however, the reality is that decisions about who does and doesn’t compete often involve petty politics and favoritism, such as giving preference to films featuring or directed by Sean Penn for the main competition.

It’s important to clarify that Erice didn’t feel annoyed because he wasn’t in competition; rather, he felt disrespected due to the manner in which the festival interacted with him, leaving him uninformed about their plans. This issue is significant because other festivals such as Venice and Cannes’s own parallel event, Directors’ Fortnight, have previously showcased major films from prominent directors in prime slots. Unfortunately, these other venues were let down by Cannes’s poor communication with the filmmaker.

The heartening aspect is that someday all these events will fade away, yet the profound impact of “Close Your Eyes” will endure. Erice’s fourth film offers a poignant narrative revolving around memory, self-identity, and friendship, resonating with an unsettling personal touch. The story commences with intriguing glimpses from an abandoned venture titled “The Farewell Gaze“. This image was left incomplete when its lead actor, Julio Arenas (Jose Coronado), vanished under enigmatic circumstances, seemingly abandoning both the film and his entire life. The director, Miguel Garay (Manolo Solo), ceased shooting any more footage following this incident. In fact, he now leads a secluded existence, residing in a trailer by the sea, cultivating his own tomatoes and fishing. A television investigation into Julio’s disappearance reels Miguel back into society, prompting him to delve into the past events.

The movie, titled “Close Your Eyes“, has a certain enigma about it that makes it prudent to withhold the rest of the plot details at this time. The film is divided into distinct segments, with an opening scene reminiscent of a lost film called “The Shanghai Spell“. This scene, filled with vivid images from what appears to be old footage, could almost pass as a part of this hypothetical movie that director Erice worked on for three years in the late 1990s. However, whether or not these scenes were actually shot during that project remains speculative, as it seems the production halted before filming commenced.

In a turn of events, Erice finds himself deeply saddened by past experiences and recognizes a strong resemblance between him and Miguel, a secluded artist. One day, Miguel pays a visit to his old projectionist companion Max (Mario Pardo), who possesses an extensive collection of film reels in his dusty archive. Max points out that a significant portion of cinema history still resides on celluloid, despite the fact that few theaters screen 35-mm. films anymore. The movie “Close Your Eyes” conveys a persistent feeling that everything Miguel is familiar with is vanishing from him. His simple, almost monastic seaside dwelling stands on the brink of being sold, forcing him to relocate. As Julio distanced himself from the world years ago through death or departure, Miguel now grasps the concept of disappearance as he watches his own world fade away.

Initially, the film Close Your Eyes adopts a measured, factual rhythm, primarily focusing on dialogue exchanges between two characters. The director appears to test the audience’s tolerance in this segment, as each scene concludes with an extended, nearly unbearable blackout. Some viewers did express frustration. However, the minimalist visuals in this part align with the overall theme of the movie, as Erice establishes a stark distinction between the mystical realm of film illusion and the mundane aspects of everyday life.

The film “Close Your Eyes” delves into the realm of cinema, yet it’s not your typical portrayal from recent times. It doesn’t function as a love letter or a bitter critique, but instead, it investigates cinema as a form of memory and the worthiness of that recollection. This is a movie crafted by a director who has been longing to make the films he envisioned for decades. The film permeates with his frustration and remorse in every scene, yet there’s also a hint of resignation. At one moment, Miguel writes on a keyboard about an artist who decided that his magnum opus wouldn’t be a piece of work, but his life. Is this thought a source of inspiration or despair?

The closing part of the image provokes contemplation on what truly defines life. Is it about our memories and self-identity, the amalgamation of all our lived experiences, or perhaps the connections we share with others? Alternatively, is it merely about finding joy and being content in each moment? Earlier scenes from the film hint at a man who reflects on how many times his name has shifted throughout his life, expressing sorrow that his estranged daughter, of half-Chinese descent, bears a different name due to her mother’s choice. In this movie, it seems everyone’s name experiences numerous transformations. What significance does a name hold? Why should our personal identities matter in the broader context of existence?

In the course of Miguel’s relentless pursuit, it becomes questionable whether he seeks Julio or some aspect within himself. The protagonist in the incomplete film yearns for one final glance from his daughter – the “farewell gaze” mentioned in the title – before he departs this world. Miguel clings to the recollection of Julio more intensely than Julio holds onto himself. It’s through the gazes of others that we come to understand ourselves, and this truth resonates profoundly with filmmakers. A filmmaker who has been unable to create a film can relate to this understanding on a deeper level.

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2024-08-22 20:54