Stay

I don’t know where to start when talking about this film. In short, every frame, every dialogue, every casting, every seemingly meaningless coincidence or mistake is painstakingly tailored and taken into consideration when building the world of Marc Forster’s Stay. Saying this is a cinematographic masterpiece would be putting it lightly. With hints of Lynchian dream-absurdism (and I’m not saying this because Naomi Watts plays a crucial role within this dreamlike film), it borders on utter incomprehension within the first hour of the film. However, it is one of those films that hide something so blatant, that upon its reveal it becomes glaringly obvious, as if our vision was restored and we could finally see clearly what was going on (also symbolically shown through the reversal of blindness and ignorance of one character). We follow Sam Foster, a college psychiatrist, who finds out a new client of his is planning to kill himself in three days. The film is incredibly confusing, and it doesn’t hide its intention to be such, as we can see Sam’s character loosing his mind over what’s real and what’s fake, who’s alive and who isn’t. The details pertaining to the ending are beautifully foreshadowed: the painting of the bridge (drawn by Henry) present in Sam’s bedroom in one of the first scenes, the repeat characters and doppelgängers in plain sight never acknowledged by Sam, repeating dialogue, Henry hearing voices alike the omnipresent dreamer/God of the world he has created, footage of Henry’s childhood replaying in a manner of “life flashing by your eyes”, the presence of the number 21 (later found out to be the ambulance he dies in), all the incredible transitions that seem excessive yet perfectly encapsulate what it is like to dream of an expansive story. This film rests on many Freudian concepts (whom is even mentioned in a conversation with the blind doctor); of the ego and the superego, of Eros and Thanatos, of Sam Foster being created as Henry’s Guardian and last plea for survival, who needs to engage in the final battle with the death drive and convince Henry to live on in spite of the harrowing reality awaiting him. Henry’s regrets are perhaps the most tragic theme within this film, his survivors guilt bringing him to create an elusive story of a world full of love where he faces alienation and loneliness, where his parents don’t remember him, don’t wish to see him; and the love of his life never knew him, spending her days and nights engaged with more romantic and suitable partners. Henry loved Athena to the point where her death on account of the accident he views himself at fault for, drove him to create a personal hell where he is to kill himself all over again owing to a grief that cannot be purified. He creates a false poet, philosopher, and fellow artist whom gives his death an ultimate meaning; the death of a young artist who was never known to the world, whose death is just another meaningless suicide that Henry finds particular beauty within. This notion is reflected in Naomi Watts’ character, also a young artist with a dark past who represents Henry’s love for art, fear of being forgotten, and potentially even the fear (shown through Sam’s eyes) of your lover disappearing/dying when you could’ve helped them. The ending of the film, or rather the beginning as only in those last moments does the dream actually start for Henry, is very interesting. Not only is it absolutely heart breaking in every regard, but the notion that Henry’s final moments, including his dream moments, had an influence on Ewan McGregor and Naomi Watts’ actual characters, perfectly ties together the whole concept of the film. That is, the entire 1h40min truly occurred in less than five minutes, and for those two characters this was unfortunately just another death they couldn’t prevent, but for Henry those last moments were absolute miserable loneliness. It is tragically beautiful to imagine that one’s quiet agony can impact even complete strangers. I adore this film, I will always adore this film; it is one of the first pieces of cinema I recall watching with my parents late at night as a child. I remember just observing them; how confused they were, how quiet and intrigued they were with what they had watched. How it ultimately pissed them off, because they felt stupid for not understanding the ending. I remember thinking for years that confusion in a film = bad film, hence that this film was abhorrent. After having rewatched it when I was older, I realized that this film did exactly what it set out to do, death is incomprehensible and dreams are just death being shy.