It would seem that society is increasingly embracing the present and the past. For all of the market testing, advance polling, and research analysis which has reduced so many of our figureheads to puppets caught in the winds of popular opinion, there is a growing lack of restraint and forethought in the actions of many of our celebrities. Chalk it up to the information age if you'd like, to the ubiquitous surveilance we are under from the totalitarian slanted government, the predatory press, and every schmuck with a camera phone; perhaps we have no choice but to wash and dry our dirty laundry in the public eye. Still, the sea change in how information is delivered seems to have resulted in decisions made for the short term becoming far more prevelant than they ever were before. We needn't look any farther than Lindsay Lohan's latest attempt at respectability after several stints in rehab: posing as Marilyn Monroe in New York magazine. It's mind-bogglingly embarrassing. Let's let the analytic take a break and eschew the subtext. Let's not mention that the photos of Marilyn were taken while she was drunk and several weeks before she died of an overdose; let's also not mention that splaying your nude body before the camera does little to increase your respectability as an actress or as a woman. Let's ignore all of that. Let's just look at the fact that she looks terrible. At twenty-one, she looks twice as old as Marilyn did at thirty-six. And those freckles? Firecrotch indeed, Mr. Davis. There is simply a lack of what strikes me as common sense. Now, I have never been one to project too far into the future (probably why I continuously languish as a novice chess player) but I can't help but look at society today and wonder how much of what goes on is going to be deeply, deeply regretted by those involved when it shows up on a tasteless VH1 special designed to manufacture nostalgia for a time that was insufferable the first time, let alone revisited in endless syndication.
The reason I bring this up is because Clean is a rare film in that it shows someone whose life has fallen apart publicly and who, not always with ease or pleasure, realizes that it is more advantageous to look to the future than to the present. Maggie Cheung plays Emily Wang, a former television personality whose common-law marriage to aging rockstar Lee Hauser (James Johnston) ends with his death from a drug overdose. Arrested for possession, but cleared of any charges related to Lee's death, Emily emerges six months later jobless and in debt -- check the boxes of both money and karma -- and with a young son, Jay (James Dennis), now fatherless. Lee's father Albrecht (Nick Nolte), who has been taking care of his grandson in the absence of both a mother and a father, is granted legal custody and kindly asks that Emily keep her distance for several years. Motivated to do right by her son, she embarks on a journey of self reflection and improvement that will take her through several jobs in several countries, sustaining herself by the generosity of the few remaining friends who don't blame her for Lee's death.
Much has been said of Cheung's performance, and deservedly so. She has a combination of poise, determination, fragility, and uncertainty that effectively communicates all of the details that the film only briskly and implicitly states. Nonetheless, the most surprising performance of the film is that of Nick Nolte. Nolte is an actor whose reputation and whose name precede his performances; in his later roles, he seems to have perfected a gruff, woozy, willfully aloof character whose charm just makes up for his lack of refinement, tact, and prudence. In Clean, he conducts a thrilling sneak attack. What begins looking like another one of Nolte's wonderful messes ends up being a surprisingly thoughtful, resolute, avuncular gentleman with more heart than luck. If he looks haggard and worn down, it is only because he is emotionally and physically spent from caring for his ailing wife, his troubled daughter-in-law, and his fatherless grandson, not to mention mourning his deceased son. His is the kind of selfless, pragmatic forward thinking that Emily recognizes she must emulate, even if she does not say so explicitly.
Still, the film is not without its flaws. I would have sacrificed some of the drawn out third act for a little more of the first, which deftly navigated the world of mid-level rock and roll (with cameos from Metric and Tricky for added credibility). The performance of James Dennis as Jay is also tonally at odds with the rest of the cast, but I've come to accept that not every child actor is going to be a revelation along the lines of an Abigail Breslin. Regardless, I praise Olivier Assayas for delivering a film that is surprinsgly -- and thankfully -- short on cheap sentimentality and which rewards practicality and pragmatism over impudence and audacity.