A Single Man
In this adaptation of Christopher Isherwood’s novel, Colin Firth does excellent work as the titular “single man,” a closeted homosexual college professor reeling badly from the sudden death of his lover. Unable to grieve openly or confide in anyone besides his longtime platonic friend (Julianne Moore), Firth’s George seriously contemplates suicide. The problem with A Single Man is that fashion designer/first-time filmmaker Tom Ford (the man who once inserted his clothed self on to a Vanity Fair cover with buck-naked Scarlett Johansson and Keira Knightley, an act for which I shall eternally despise him) can’t a find a single consistent tone from scene to scene. Ford’s visual concepts almost sadistically overshadow the nuances of the performances and story, and thus the film vacillates from profoundly beautiful (George’s first meeting with his deceased lover) to numbingly insipid (his flirtation with a Bieber-esque student).