Take My Eyes (2003)
9/10
A cinematic milestone of rare beauty and insight in dealing with the most unsavoury of topics
22 August 2004
Warning: Spoilers
Take My Eyes is about the love of one couple, their attempts to rebuild their relationship, and the struggles of each of them to deal with what comes to be seen as an illness of the husband – a tendency to violence that results in severe domestic abuse. The film is all the more powerful because the violence is never shown on screen – what we see is the fear, shame and embarrassment of the wife, Pilar, the romantic dream she still cherishes, the moments of poetic tenderness they share, the humanising attempts of the husband Antonio to overcome his violent tendencies through therapy. The one scene of love-making is amongst the tenderest, most beautiful and most realistic ever seen on film; the expression of romantic, positive emotion between them is something many couples would jump at the chance to regain. They let us see why it is hard for someone in her position to admit the man she loves is not only not perfect but a violent brute; why it is embarrassing for her when her soon-to-be-married sister brings it up. The common conception of domestic violence rests too simplistically with the physical act – it fails to encompass the emotional violence and trauma, the complexity of the situation when the woman is still deeply ‘in love' and cherishes a hope that her partner will ‘change'.

At the UK premiere of this film in the Edinburgh Internal Film Festival, Writer-Director Icíar Bollaín explained that it was her fascination with why so many women stay with abusive husbands (the average is ten years) that led her to research the subject. She found it was far more complex than expected.

What makes Take My Eyes so valuable as a cinematic milestone is that it not only is a masterpiece of modern cinema, but as a contribution to social awareness it conveys far more than any government leaflet could. Everyone at some point in their life, if not directly involved in a situation of domestic abuse, is likely to know somebody that is affected – but what can be done? Painting the scene in black and white and simply strongly telling the woman to leave is likely to evoke a very negative response – which happens to Pilar's sister – and not achieve the desired result. Through its heartbreakingly realistic and characters, the film works through various options in an enlightening way, but Take My Eyes never preaches. The fact that it is so in touch with its subject matter is, cinematically, merely icing on the cake – this is a drama that keeps you on the edge of your seat throughout, evoking a total audience commitment. Unlike most films dealing with abuse it is also most definitely not kitchen sink drama – so much so that when Antonio's temper flares ever so slightly we flinch – not just because we empathise with Pilar, for whom a sudden movement brings terrifying, paralysing echo of a possible beating, but because it seems so intrusive, so out of place in a film of such gentle wonder. But that great art can have such potential for social impact and change is something for cinema, in this case, to feel justly proud.

(Major plot spoilers follow – please read only after seeing the film to discuss analysis of the issues) That Antonio is portrayed with understanding helps us to understand the complexity of the dilemma that Pilar faces – she appreciates his genuine efforts to change, the exercises his therapist gives him. Most importantly, it helps explain for us why she not only loves him but cherishes a hope that the tender love they have felt for each other will not only return but that the violent spells will cease. Of course they don't. Asked about the ending, Icíar Bollaín explained that something that emerged from the research that went into making the film was that it is only when the woman *gives up hope* that the man will change that she can begin to rebuild her life. While a shred of hope remains, she, also, remains locked in the relationship that is destroying her. In the movie, Pilar learns that she has an ability to explain great paintings in the art gallery (where she has obtained work as a volunteer cashier) in a way that captures people's imagination - and is eventually offered a job. In a particularly humiliating scene (that leaves no physical bruises), Antonio ensures she is unable to get to the interview. He has broken the last thing within her, a new spark of well-placed faith in herself to do something nice. In that act he has broken everything inside her. She goes to the police station to report the attack but realises she has nothing that the police would be able to take seriously. She walks away – and also walks away from any hope that Antonio can change. She knows she does not love him any more and never will. She tells him, calmly – it is simply a fact – even when he threatens and seems to attempt suicide to make her stay - and is finally able to leave him permanently.

Even after seeing the film it is so easy to draw simplistic solutions to the problem of domestic abuse, but the film invites us to consider them more fully, from the full emotional perspective of the victim (which also includes seeing things from the point of view of the perpetrator). The therapy seems to be patchwork at best. The woman has to decide to leave him. Once she has given up hope that he will change, the other things in her life that seemed beyond hope often repair themselves. Of course, if the woman can see the obsessive ‘love' with associated violence early enough she can just walk at the first manifestation, before she becomes more deeply entangled emotionally. And the abusers – is there no hope for them? In one sense, perhaps we don't care – in another (inasmuch as it is good to try and help such people stop being abusive), the advice is that at the first sign of anger such a person should also walk – walk well away. It may be that a particular type of personality triggers the anger – if so, it is not a sign of love but of a person *that that person who is tempted to anger* should avoid. We can only give love in a relationship where it is possible to give and receive without overriding hurt. ‘Take My Eyes' say Pilar and Antonio to each other as a symbolic gift, pledging parts of their body to each other in moments of exquisite gentleness. ‘Take My Eyes' says Icíar Bollaín, offering us her insights into the horrific, prevalent and needing-to-be-uncovered-and-addressed problem of domestic violence – through the medium of film, through this dramatisation, see into what it is really like, take the understanding. The movie will sweep you away with its beautiful Italian backdrops, its bringing to life of the paintings of the Great Masters, but mostly it will sweep you away with its insights into the depth and complexity of the human spirit, without ever dodging the issues.
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