Why isn’t she sobbing? Why hasn’t she phoned the police? Morvern Callar (Samantha Morton) has found her boyfriend lying dead in the soft pulse of the Christmas tree lights, suicide note written on the computer screen. She opens the presents he left her, then goes out for a night of ecstatic parties with best friend, Lanna.
Morvern is certainly an unusual character. Largely melancholic with inexplicable moments of impulsiveness and a muted lack of fear that leads to her and Lanna disorientated in rural Spain, one can imagine her behaviour falling within the definition of some personality disorder or other. But this isn’t mentioned and it doesn’t matter. What is important is that, through Samantha Morton’s masterful portrayal, we begin to spot a consistency that leads to a deep understanding of her character even if her decisions don’t make clear sense.
Lynne Ramsay directs with sensitivity and precision. Keeping cuts down to a minimum results in long-durational shots which allow a natural flourishing of realism. It makes room for the audience to do the interpreting instead of letting the editing do it for them.
While there is a general absence of overt grief from Morvern and barely any mention of her dead boyfriend, the whole film is about her adjustment to life without him. Her reaction seems to be to gently absorb his life into her own. This includes replacing his name for hers on the title page of his recently finished novel and sending the manuscript off to publishers. A highlight is the moment she paints her nails scarlet before going out. Over her shoulder, the camera loses focus and her hand briefly resembles the bloodied ones of the man lying in the next room.
Among the presents left for her are a Walkman and a cassette tape of music. At first impatiently fast-forwarding through tracks she doesn’t like, the evocative mixture of 60’s pop and cold electronica becomes the soundtrack to her days – walking to work as a shelf-stacker, wandering about the Scottish hills and even burying the body. One of the most beautiful images of the film is Morvern wandering through a packed nightclub, earphones in, listening to The Mamas and Papas while the ravers around her dance to a different tune.
We can never be clear whether her blank-faced hedonism is a form of mourning or if his death has liberated her. There are clues that point in both directions, making the film intriguing and baffling. Ramsay and Morton’s biggest achievement is how much of a detailed impression of Morvern their audience comes away with whilst still being none the wiser about her past or motives.
Jon Bates Writes 