Forty Shades of Blue

Dina Korzun played an immigrant, abandoned with her son in the sordid wastelands of Merrie England, in Last Resort, and her character is in a way an extension of this part. In 40 Shades she is the trophy wife of a 'legendary' Memphis record producer, and her fragile, doll-like beauty is an extreme foil for Rip Torn's gross and menacing but superficial superstar. It is an unsettling experience to see a film like this coming from America: after half-an-hour, the plot doesn't seem to have settled on a direction. About twenty minutes have passed before we can begin to guess who everyone is, and what they are doing. None of that in-your-face stuff. The enclosed world of these people is shot mostly indoors and feels suitably claustrophobic; it's perhaps a mistake by the director to extend this feeling of claustrophobia to the auditorium where you may be watching this, though, and similarly, the exploration of ennui amongst the rich and powerful backslappers should not cross over into the darkness of the front row, like some kind of virus. Antonioni used to specialise in this kind of milieu and he (damnably) admitted that he found boredom fascinating. There is a dulled spark in there, though: Michael (Burrows), the son of the Great Man, and the lonely doll fall desperately in love, and there is an excellent scene where Big Al lovelessly declares his love for his Laura through a hootenanny P.A. while the young pretender, the hungry wolf, or Lonesome Polecat, prowls around the edge of the dance crowd. But about 40 minutes into this your reviewer began feeling the passing of time, and by the end, even this theatre's lovely new seats were arse-numbing. A noir-ish film like this should provide lots of enjoyment for the eye alone, but the camera-work was outstandingly ordinary. There is a good enough film in there, but it needs to be cut out of the block. CLIFF HANLEY

"Forty Shades of Blue" features Rip Torn as an acerbic, hard-drinking music producer in Memphis who, though greatly beloved by his fans and the people in the industry, is viewed somewhat differently by those who know him best. Despite his advanced age, he has a gorgeous live-in girlfriend, Laura (Dina Korzun), whom he met while on a business trip to Russia and, even though they seem to be reasonably devoted to one another and their relationship, Laura is becoming increasing morose as a result of his constant philandering. When Alan's married son, Michael (Darren E. Burrows) - who has reasons of his own for resenting the man - comes from California for a visit, he and Laura enter into a secret love affair that forces her to finally question her commitment to Alan and to perhaps cut the chords - both obligatory and emotional - that bind her to him.

Although the script does an effective job capturing the tensions simmering just beneath the surface of the story, the plot itself seems too conventional and too underdeveloped to engage the viewer completely. Still the characters are complex enough and the performances sufficiently layered to at least hold our interest throughout. Torn is particularly good at creating a character whose amiability and likability on the surface mask a callousness and mean-spiritedness below.

This is a subtle, if not exactly gripping, study of the compromises we make - and the choices we come to regret - in our effort to avoid loneliness and to find meaning and happiness in life.

Somehow its a nice movie, with some decent performance. and yeh there are some flaws in drama which could avoid but still overall its good. its a bit boring in start to mid.

Plot is also not that NEW, there are similar movies in 90s , where same plot but here its a little bit different in the end. most of other movies with same idea was has some action (violence) in it. but this one is just pure drama.

the end game is.... no matter how the life is luxury and can buy stuff with money , if there is no LOVE or feelings and honesty then there is no relationship. and thats what happened in the end.

she realized in the end that there is nothing good in that relationship.

This is a quietly brilliant film, a real gem, mostly because every frame of Forty Shades of Blue reeks of cinema; it's a film lover's film, and, maybe more importantly, a lovers' film, a romance/drama that is human, complex and entertaining at the same time.

I was blown away by Sachs' attention to details and command of his actors. There's nothing flashy to his naturalistic approach, yet the three main actors/lovers shine, and the camera feels at ease even in the most intimate moments.

If this movie was in French, it would be up for an academy award as a foreign language film, in the U.S. they will treat it as a small, indie film. That's reality. But the reality this film captures, a triangle between a Russian woman, her much older, legendary music producer husband and his son, speaks to a greater truth - that people are fragile and wanting, that life in the West is so good, it makes us soft and even more fragile and wanting and selfish and human than we want to acknowledge. That at the end of the day we all want to love and be loved and be safe. When was the last time you saw a movie so simple and giving in its complexity?

It's set in Memphis, but it speaks an international language and I hope this film gets seen everywhere, not just festivals.

This is the first Ira Sachs film I've seen (his IMDb lists another feature, The Delta, and some shorts) but I'm certain there will be many more. Let's just hope Hollywood doesn't corrupt his unique talent and respect for movies and human beings.

Oh, and it's got some great music too.

Film-making with such an eye for detail and nuance is rarely to be seen in America and I'm overjoyed that the Sundance committee stepped forward to recognize it. Forty Shades of Blue is a fascinated witness to heartbreak and refuses all melodrama, all sentimentality in favor of fully lived characters that are shocking in their naturalism---the Russian actress in particular is astonishing but what is even more astonishing is the subtlety with which the director observes her. It is the most careful portrait of loneliness I have ever seen.

Unlike most directors who point us in every frame at their star or their theme, Sachs--like Robert Altman--often points out details and people of the setting (Memphis) so that we are quite sure we're not seeing actors at all, and the effect is not the closed-room feel you would expect of a love triangle, but a place and time fixed forever by the lens. Ira Sachs has coaxed great performances from his actors, his hometown and the musicians who perform like a Greek chorus throughout. It's quite a masterpiece.