Compulsion (2013)What are the fixations that drive you? Maybe you don't even know, but those idiosyncrasies make us...and sometimes break us. Compulsion (2013) is the story of two women, neighbors in a New York City apartment building in SoHo, who couldn't be more different on the surface. Amy (Heather Graham) is a full-figured, blonde, vibrant perfectionist, obsessed with food and gourmet cuisine, who demands acknowledgement for her culinary efforts from her boyfriend, Fred (Kevin Dillon). Saffron (Carrie-Anne Moss) is the nigh-emaciated, raven-haired recluse, former child actor who craves privacy. And yet both of their respective fixations have a common root, which bind them together.
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Compulsion opens with a montage of succulent foods being prepared, sexy shots of cooking, and Amy espouses the parallels between food and love. The bevy of dishes foisted upon her captive audience by Amy throughout the film include aphrodisiacs like oysters on the half shell and more sweet and savory treats which represent her inner need for adoration. The opening recalls other works both erotic and of the horror genre; the chocolate-coated strawberries recalls Adrian Lyne's 9 1/2 Weeks, whereas the slicing of meat paradoxically reminds me of Mary Harron's adaptation of American Psycho. The story of Compulsion is principally told via a series of flashbacks by Amy, as the disappearance of Saffron is being investigated by Detective Reynolds (Joe Mantegna). Right off the bat, it is unsurprising to us that Reynolds is suspicious that Amy is hiding something, given her already apparent quirks. Her interaction with Reynolds also reminds me of the film noir classic, Laura; both films involve a detective getting the story--no doubt with some self-aggrandizing embellishment--from an obsessive fan of the subject of the investigation, who also narrates the strange tale. With her hyper-focused demeanor about preparing perfect food, and her staged appearance, including ever-present ruby red lipstick and tight-fitting polka dot dresses accentuating her ample bosom, Amy seems a caricature of the dutiful housewife; even her aprons never seem to have any residue of her gastronomic artistry upon them. Amy is coy with her answers to Reynolds, but the flashbacks give us the real story of her interactions with Saffron, a woman who Amy recalls she idolized in her youth, watching her romantic melodramas like "Midnight Pearl", rewinding her scenes of romance over and over in private. Amy's own love life is collapsing, although not for her lack of trying. Her one year affair with Fred has become stale for him, who is both her financier in her pursuits to start her own cooking show, and the recipient of her culinary indulgences. But Fred has grown tired of being smothered by the controlling chef and lover, and ends up betraying Amy not (necessarily) by sleeping with a colleague, but worse for Amy, having dinner with one at the gourmet restaurant where Amy used to work--her revenge is a dish served piping hot, and in a fashion not unlike Fatal Attraction. As she refuses to dip into despair, she instead focuses her attentions on preparing dish after dish for her neighbor to sate her fan worship of "her Saffy", forcing unwanted masterpieces on the secretive actor, who conceals an eating disorder tied to painful memories of her upbringing.
Amy's compulsions are fairly obvious, although Saffron's are somewhat less so. Saffron doesn't actually seem to have much passion for acting--she finances her life by writing hollow articles for a women's fashion magazine about sex and love. But she is compelled to audition for roles, including those which she seems to be conscious of being too old for, as if hoping to prove something to herself, to justify all the pain and suffering she endured in her youth at the hands of a domineering mother/manager, and the traumas of being exploited. Saffron lives in the shadow of her legacy; she keeps movie posters from her films hanging in her apartment, and loudly recites lines to herself in the middle of the night, hoping to feel that sense of adoration, even if she is loathe to admit it to herself. Her anorexia was fostered by her mother, but has become a means to punish herself; Amy's insistence to feed her is a battering ram on her defenses. Both Amy and Saffron have suffered under their respective mothers' reticence to show affection and demand perfection from their daughters. Their compulsions manifest in their own intimacy issues, always craving acceptance in some form, which has led to their own fixations on both food and sex. Amy proclaims to Fred during their anniversary dinner that she wants "everything to be perfect"; compare this sentiment with Saffron's own belief that the "real [her] would never please any of 'these' people", speaking of not just the casting crew for the film she is hoping to land a role in, but the world at large...hence, she hides away. Amy's delusions about hosting a cooking show are moments of punctuation in Compulsion, not unlike Martin Scorsese's The King of Comedy, where she delivers (what is ultimately) a monologue about her concerns, that others cannot truly appreciate love without food, and take her for granted. There is a strong current of sexuality in her dialogue and appearance, as well as her discourse about various foods, similar to the "food porn" explosion of cooking shows in the early 2000s, with attractive (and very talented) hostesses and chefs like Giada de Laurentiis and Rachael Ray. These interludes might be interpreted to be Amy's way of coping with her concealed psychological damage, but I suspect they only serve to reinforce her sheltered worldview, to avoid facing her personal issues and rejection. The ending of Compulsion is certainly bizarre--a bit hard to stomach, if you'll forgive the turn of phrase--and leaves one wondering just what did happen to Saffron. To avoid spoilage, suffice to say that I believe that as Amy and Saffron's relationship had reached a substantial level of trust, Saffron's ambiguous suggestion to Amy is one that could only lead to a kind of perverse mutual satisfaction for their unresolved desires, but only granting one of them an escape from their own internal prison.
Recommended for: Fans of a black comedy about food fetishes and psychological fixations on food and sex. Amy and Saffron are polar opposites, but their bond of their own deep-seated damage drives the plot. And when Amy says she's not that handy with a cleaver, I'm left to wonder...
Amy's compulsions are fairly obvious, although Saffron's are somewhat less so. Saffron doesn't actually seem to have much passion for acting--she finances her life by writing hollow articles for a women's fashion magazine about sex and love. But she is compelled to audition for roles, including those which she seems to be conscious of being too old for, as if hoping to prove something to herself, to justify all the pain and suffering she endured in her youth at the hands of a domineering mother/manager, and the traumas of being exploited. Saffron lives in the shadow of her legacy; she keeps movie posters from her films hanging in her apartment, and loudly recites lines to herself in the middle of the night, hoping to feel that sense of adoration, even if she is loathe to admit it to herself. Her anorexia was fostered by her mother, but has become a means to punish herself; Amy's insistence to feed her is a battering ram on her defenses. Both Amy and Saffron have suffered under their respective mothers' reticence to show affection and demand perfection from their daughters. Their compulsions manifest in their own intimacy issues, always craving acceptance in some form, which has led to their own fixations on both food and sex. Amy proclaims to Fred during their anniversary dinner that she wants "everything to be perfect"; compare this sentiment with Saffron's own belief that the "real [her] would never please any of 'these' people", speaking of not just the casting crew for the film she is hoping to land a role in, but the world at large...hence, she hides away. Amy's delusions about hosting a cooking show are moments of punctuation in Compulsion, not unlike Martin Scorsese's The King of Comedy, where she delivers (what is ultimately) a monologue about her concerns, that others cannot truly appreciate love without food, and take her for granted. There is a strong current of sexuality in her dialogue and appearance, as well as her discourse about various foods, similar to the "food porn" explosion of cooking shows in the early 2000s, with attractive (and very talented) hostesses and chefs like Giada de Laurentiis and Rachael Ray. These interludes might be interpreted to be Amy's way of coping with her concealed psychological damage, but I suspect they only serve to reinforce her sheltered worldview, to avoid facing her personal issues and rejection. The ending of Compulsion is certainly bizarre--a bit hard to stomach, if you'll forgive the turn of phrase--and leaves one wondering just what did happen to Saffron. To avoid spoilage, suffice to say that I believe that as Amy and Saffron's relationship had reached a substantial level of trust, Saffron's ambiguous suggestion to Amy is one that could only lead to a kind of perverse mutual satisfaction for their unresolved desires, but only granting one of them an escape from their own internal prison.
Recommended for: Fans of a black comedy about food fetishes and psychological fixations on food and sex. Amy and Saffron are polar opposites, but their bond of their own deep-seated damage drives the plot. And when Amy says she's not that handy with a cleaver, I'm left to wonder...