The new film “The Safety of Objects” asserts what
filmmakers have been saying about suburban life since the advent of
the carpool: underneath its lily-white exterior, suburbia is
boiling over with misplaced rage.
Opening in limited release this Friday, the film tells the story
of four suburban families tied together by a tragic accident.
Nearly every character is in a tremendous amount of pain, and as
the story unfolds, we see that each one has found an inanimate
object onto which they can project their unpalatable feelings.
Ranging from a guitar, representing the tragedy of unfulfilled
talent, to a Barbie-type doll, allowing a young boy to have his
first “girlfriend,” many of the objects that consume
the characters in “The Safety of Objects” are obvious
representations of exactly what these people feel is missing from
their lives. Others, however, are more subtle and allow some of the
film’s themes to seep into the story without being spoonfed
to the audience.
“I’ve started to realize that my character’s
object is suburbia, that ideal life, that safe, contained, pristine
life. That whole house was her project because she thought it would
make everyone happy,” said Moira Kelly
(“Chaplin,” “With Honors”), who plays a
neglected wife and mother in the film.
Director Rose Troche (“Go Fish,” “Bedrooms and
Hallways”) adapted the screenplay from the critically
acclaimed book of short stories by A.M. Homes. In creating a single
narrative out of so many separate stories, Troche was able to
combine some of Homes’ characters and connect each of their
lives. Jim Train (Dermot Mulroney) is both the dissatisfied lawyer
and the man who devotes himself to helping a woman win a car in a
contest at the mall. Esther Gold (Glenn Close) is the woman in that
contest as well as the distracted mother taking care of her
comatose son.
Unlike films such as “Short Cuts” or “Blue
Velvet,” which depict the suburbs as a place where truly
sinister things are happening right under your nose, “The
Safety of Objects” treats its characters with a lighter
touch. Even though much of what goes on in this film could be
easily described as bizarre, Troche takes care to show the audience
exactly what motivates these characters to behave so strangely.
When a kidnapping occurs, the audience is permitted to know the
haunting memories that drive the kidnapper so that by the end of
the ordeal, they can almost forgive what happened.
That this kind of pressure-cooker story takes place in the
suburbs is essential. The idea that family life outside the city
ought to be easy and perfect plays into why these characters
eventually crack under their unrealistic expectations for
themselves.
“It’s just assumed that because it’s a nice,
clean, orderly atmosphere, that everything must be nice, clean, and
orderly. But I also think we all have the same problems,”
said Mary Kay Place (“The Big Chill,” “Being John
Malkovich”), who plays a woman who deals with growing older
in ways that surprise even herself.
Although movies like “American Beauty” and
“Falling Down” prove that this idea is by no means
groundbreaking, it’s clear that there is still a sharp
impulse to tell these kinds of stories and that they will continue
to resonate.
“In cinema for a very long time, there was a theme of not
focusing on real people; it was more like glamour, or war, or
something bigger,” said Jessica Campbell
(“Election”), who plays a neglected daughter.
“Right now we’re rejoicing in the fact that there is no
such thing as normal, so we’re pointing it out every chance
we can get. The suburbs still maintain that 1950s idea that this is
the perfect life and everyone’s happy, but they’re not.
Nobody is; nobody’s normal.”