Always Winter is making its Australian debut at this year’s HSBC Spanish and Latin Festival. The movie centres on Miguel (David Verdaguer), a landscape architect who, while on a conference in Belgium, is abruptly dumped by his girlfriend. Olga (Isabelle Renault), an older woman who is volunteering at the conference, takes him under her care and they form a warm connection throughout the rest of his stay. The movie promises that this brief dalliance provides the impetus for Miguel to transform himself.
As can be expected of a movie which focuses on a Spring-Autumn relationship between an older woman and younger man, the movie strongly embeds the concept of time throughout the narrative. It emphasises the cyclical nature of life through its twelve month storyline. The references to time are intriguing and enrich the audience’s experience of the movie. As the story plays out, you can’t help but relate these references to what you’re seeing on the screen.
For example, early in the piece, Miguel’s observation of the dual nature of the hourglass that both empties and refills at the same time reminds us that when something ends, it paves the way for something new to begin. It keeps the audience asking what’s next for Miguel.
Some scenes within the movie feel like they are a little long. However, they manage to hit the sweet spot where it conveys just the right level of emotion without feeling overwrought. In some instances, the duration works as a great metaphor to the sustained, dull ache of heartbreak.
The pacing is particularly masterful in the scene where Miguel and Olga are first intimate with each other. It is a slowly unfolding scene where two individuals aren’t driven by the lust of two strangers who are hooking up after one too many drinks. This is that lust tempered with companionship.
This works perfectly as we know that neither are really looking for a relationship. Additionally, as an older woman, Olga is self-conscious with her much younger partner. This scene patiently details all the things you wouldn’t normally see, and especially not with an older person. There’s the initial shyness then the uncertainty of whether the mechanics will work. The warm and fuzzy post-coital talk and flirtation.
We are so used to seeing older men and younger women, it is refreshing to see an older woman in her sexual element. I love that this scene is given all the time it deserves.
While the movie has nailed the languid feel of its scenes, it is not as successful selling Miguel’s passivity.
The movie does a lot of work conveying the post break-up void through its technical elements. As mentioned previously, scenes are on the side of lengthy. We have extended shots of our protagonist going about his business on his own. The streets are grey because it’s winter in Belgium and the cool, gloomy tones convey melancholy.
By muting Miguel’s emotions, the audience is less inclined to feel for him. Miguel is so emotionless that even in the immediate aftermath of an abrupt, traumatic break up, he remains calm. There’s no anger or sadness. He just encourages his now ex-girlfriend to eat and tells her she has sauce on her face. Based on that alone, I could understand why she left him for a musician.
While Miguel’s passivity might be a creative choice, it exacerbates a plot hole that I cannot ignore. Olga is a significant character in Miguel’s life in the days after his break up, we are set up with the expectation that she will stay in his life.
Yet, months go by with a handful of subtle references to her but no explicit proof that she is on Miguel’s mind. While I understand that it may not make sense to portray Miguel as pining for Olga, even a brief pause as he acknowledges a connection to Olga would have been plenty. These references, without a direct connection to Olga, are merely coincidences. Instead, the storyline focuses on Miguel’s career path and other friendships.
It is only in the last half hour or so that we get more of Olga. Unfortunately, without any meaningful effort to show us Miguel’s emotional investment in Olga, the ending feels random. With no further time spent to tease out the impact of the final act, the movie feels unresolved.
Still, Always Winter is a pleasant enough watch. The dynamics between Olga and Miguel make for some entertaining moments. We see a very vanilla man drifting in his existential crisis guided by a woman who has experienced so much in life. She shifts from gently questioning him to teasing him, pushing him past just floating to actually experiencing some form of emotion.
Perhaps this is the point of Always Winter. That sometimes you don’t need loud or extreme actions to push a change. That maybe a gentle nudge in the right direction will set you on the right path.
It is just a shame that our protagonist’s anchor is too firmly rooted to make us feel hopeful for his new path in life.
Always Winter is now showing at The HSBC Spanish and Latin American Film Festival for a limited time.