Terence Davies is frequently referred to as one of Britain’s greatest living directors. Having served as screenwriter and director on all of his projects, Davies has whether creating his own biographical trilogy or adapting great works of literature for the screen. His refusal to compromise and lack of interest in creating traditional three act structure pieces of work have earned him a reputation not only as a unique and groundbreaking filmmaker, but as a British Auteur.
Since discovering his work a few months ago I have found my favourite of his pieces. The Long Day Closes.
Following the haunting Distant Voices, Still Lives (a fictionalised account of his own father and the effect he had on the family). The Long Day Closes is another autobiographical film that tells Davies’ story as a shy child in 1950’s Liverpool. It conveys his vivid imagination as the dull classroom becomes an old wooden ship, sailing through a storm; it demonstrates his relationship with his older siblings and mother, his desire to be part of their world as opposed to his own, it deals with his Catholic guilt as he comes to terms with his sexuality and most importantly is introduces us to his love of cinema and the important role it plays in his life.
What is notable about The Long Day Closes is its refusal to abide by traditional narrative structure. While critics have accused the film of meandering, The Long Day Closes uses its unique storytelling method to concey memory and nostaliga, in doing this it successfully puts the audience into the shoes of eleven year old Bud, experiencing the world through his eyes. Experiencing his awe when he watches musicals and his fear when he awakes from nightmares.
The film makes full use of various interesting techniques, whether through the imaginative cinematography or the use of sound and music as Bud’s life fades from one scene to the next.
All these aspects have earned Davies’ a place in the Criterion collection. The Long Day Closes has been written about many times by those much more talented than I (See further reading) and the film is full of sequences worthy of their own individual review. But the one that spoke most to me was the montage towards the end set to Debbie Reynold’s Tammy.
The scene boasts an ability to tie together the film’s most important elements. The bird’s eye view seamlessly pans over from Bud to the places that dominanate his life and the film the audience have been watching. From a packed cinema on Saturday night to Sunday morning Mass to the classroom where Bud spends most of his time before arriving back to the modest terraced house he calls home. Each transition is seamless and the audience feels as if they themselves have lived this life with the protagonist and by extension with Terence Davies himself, due to the tangible feeling of melancholy and nostalgia that he has created.
The scene leaves the audience (or more specifically me) reflecting over more than just the events transpired in the film but in the events that shaped my own childhood, the places where I spent my time and made me who I am. It makes me wonder what birds eye views would make up the closing remarks of my own film, whatever elements of my life the montage would include, one similarity is certain to be included and that is the cinema.
Further Reading…
https://www.criterion.com/current/posts/3041-the-long-day-closes-in-his-own-good-time
https://www.criterion.com/current/posts/5885-slipping-through-the-cracks-of-time-in-the-long-day-closes
https://lwlies.com/articles/the-long-day-closes-terence-davies/
T H E N A I V E F I L M M A K E R 