User reviews

In 1950s Liverpool, Leigh McCormack lives in a Catholic world where school nurses disapprovingly search you head for nits, teachers send you to the headmaster for disobeying rules that you don't know, and other boys at the parochial school beat you up for no clear reason. His only refuge is his mother, Marjorie Yates, and the movie theater.

It's beautifully shot and lovingly produced, but like many movies of its type, it follows young McCormack, a passive fellow who accepts the world for what it is, and takes comfort only in beauty; there is no kindness. I can see why it received a 10-minute standing ovation at Cannes, and then went home without an award. McCormack is not a performer in his world, just an observer. Nonetheless, it is beautifully put together.

Bud is a young quiet boy living in post-war Liverpool. This film is fragmentary. It's imaginary. It's artistic. It's not a popcorn flick. It's also not very nostalgic for those who haven't had this kind of experience. I had non of it and it's not as effective on me. This is only an artistic exercise. While it's not for me, one can see its artistic value and the cinematic skills to pull it off.

Almost any scene of this film, shown in isolation, would suggest it is a masterpiece. But, the entire movie is setting -- a story never really happens. Director Terrance Davies, cinematographer Michael Coulter, and actor Leigh McCormack create very beautiful, sad world for a sensitive boy named Bud. The film is flawless, but don't expect a traditional film plot. "The Long Day Closes" is like watching a piece of art; sometimes the camera lingers over images so long, it's like you're looking at a still picture.

Watching the film, in one sitting, I thought the "Tammy" part was a highlight -- it had me guessing about where "Bud" was: church, school… It also moved the setting up to 1957 (I looked up the Debbie Reynolds movie); earlier, I thought the film might take place in the 1940s. Marjorie Yates and the supporting cast were wonderful. The "crucifixion" scene was most startling; it suggests Christianity may have inflicted more harm than good, on this family. Still, nothing really happened to get me interested what was going on, in the story, I am only a child, myself. I will, absolutely watch for the name Terence Davies, and look for his other work; he is a phenomenal filmmaker, obviously.

******* The Long Day Closes (5/22/92) Terence Davies ~ Leigh McCormack, Marjorie Yates, Anthony Watson

I remember that in 1992 I went into the cinema to see a film. The hall was full and I had to choose another film to see. I entered a hall to see "The long day closes" with no information what it was about nor about its director. Soon at the first image of the opening titles I was amazed at the quietness, the beauty and the profound emotion of what it was going to come. But what came was even better than what I was expecting. I still remember the scene in which the boy rests his head into his mother's breast as she sings an old song. It is one of the most moving images I've seen in cinema. I've always remembered that film and kept it very profoundly into my heart. It touches you...or you simply ignore it. It is for human beings not for cinema experts. Thanks for listening to me.

In reading reviews of this film, I often came across criticisms such as lack of character development and plotless to the point of boring, but this film is anything but so. At times it can slow down and lose your attention, but if you keep paying attention to all 84 minutes of it, it is ultimately a rewarding film; one of the most rewarding I've seen in a while. Films are a visual medium and reliance on the other arts (such as the script) can often deter from what pure film can do. Through beautiful cinematography, camera angles and compositions, Davies gives a portrait of childhood more heartbreaking and affecting than most I've seen. Every shot melts into the next one with such precision, it's as if poetry is being written with a camera. Music flows through the film with the same precision, creating a profound emotional effect in every scene. Though the acting is minimal, the mother and Bud (Marjorie Yates and Leigh McCormack) are faultless. Bud's childhood obviously mirrors the director's own life. He is a shy and sensitive boy who many don't understand (except for his family) and who is dismissed by many of his peers as a "fruit." Bud's possible blossoming homosexuality is handled very subtly. As a matter of fact, everything about this film is subtle, including his love of the movies which is rarely merely shown on the screen. Much of the film is suffused with bits of dialogue and songs from films, showing that this is a part of his life. Whenever Orson Welles' narration from The Magnificent Amberson's comes on, you feel warm contented, just as Bud seems to be. You feel certain that this boy will become a great filmmaker some day. And he did.

A sad and lonely boy, Bud (Leigh McCormack) struggles through his days. With cinema as his main source of solace, he haunts the local movie-house. All the while, his family looms large in our peripheral vision as do the menacing bullies of his school, but Bud is the center of attention both from the camera's angle and from his doting family.

This is a love letter to film, with plenty of classic film references and an endless soundtrack of classic music. The story itself is not important, other than for us to realize that movies offer us an escape no matter how dreary our lives may be.

Most of us, thankfully, do not live as sad an existence as Bud. But most of us love movies to a greater or lesser degree and have a favorite that we can dive into when times are bad.

This is one of the most beautiful movie I ever seen. This is a masterpiece of intelligence and cinematography. Splendid camera work and a brillant integration of music and bit of spoken words. It also captures the essence of childhood. It's simply pure poetry. Remember that films are made to be seen: in early days, it was moving pictures. Here we have that essence: we see pictures. No need to listen, no need of dialogues : just pictures, as beautiful as a painting, as photography. I'm very happy that the other viewers loves this film. But I'm a little bit sad to see that it just got 6 or something out of 10 votes. See it again and again. Taste it a lot of times.

I first saw this film back in London, purely by chance during one of my days off work when I dipped out of the rain around Leicester Square. I am glad it rained, for I may have missed this cinematographic masterpiece. The film touches chords deep within the soul and speaks to the nostalgic in us, stirring dormant and long-forgotten memories of childhood. There is very little in the way of plotting, and the dialogue is minimal, but the film contains a rare magic that goes beyond words. The Long Day Closes borders on the exquisite, and I cannot find words to fully describe the impact it made on me. Lacking violence, profanity and abuse, the film is a gem, and it sparkles deep in the mind long after it has been seen. - Peter

If you need a conventional plot line to enjoy a film, this one is not for you. If you enjoy outstanding cinematography and would like to have the experience of slipping into someone else's consciousness as their mind drifts from recollection to recollection, you will find this film magical. Set in post war England, this film is a lovely, poetic portrait of the day to day life of one family as seen through the eyes of a ~12 year old boy. It's true that the boy is going through a lonely and difficult period of his life but, one also experiences the sweetness of his loving family and the fellowship of a close knit neighborhood community. It is a view of common people finding hope and joy in each other amidst the hardships of post war England. The inspired combining of sound, imagery, and music make for a very rich film experience.

Terence Davies followed his masterpiece debut Distant Voices, Still Lives with The Long Day Closes, a meditation on his adolescence. It follows a very similar style with a series of surreal but verite vignettes of 1950s life mixed with familiar songs. It's more polished than Distant Voices, often having some incredibly impressive camera moves, but with removing that grime comes its downfall. The film lacks vital drama. Even with Distant Voices' scattered scenes, there's conflict in every one of them. The suffering in The Long Day Closes seems internal or invisible and it's difficult for the film to communicate its intense feelings through the characters and atmosphere. While some delightful contrasts are made between home, school and cinema, the solace of the movies don't have their impact without a reason to need them. Perhaps the film should've steered far away from Distant Voices' style as it feels like a watered down version, revealing too much and saying too little. However, its intricate production and sensitive aesthetic make it a worthwhile if overly subdued viewing. I hope Davies' other films are more satisfying.

7/10

It's kind of fascinating to me that so many reviewers consider this a masterpiece. I am not a dullard as far as quality films go, and I will agree that from a technical filming standpoint, as well as for several of the characters portrayed, the film is in an award-worthy class. But there is no sense (for me) of this film actually going anywhere; I mean, taking the viewer anywhere. It is a series of mood scenes, perhaps remarkable as such, but I want more from a film. I look for story and movement and a fulfillment of arrival, none of which did I find in this film. Yes, it might be considered poetry on film . . . but there is much poetry that I cannot live with for the same reason: that it paints pictures without going anywhere.

One thing further to be said is that it documents a mid-century English childhood, which is necessarily limited in its universality. I was personally appalled at what a young British boy had to live through, in that time and place. Having grown up in America just a decade earlier, I can authoritatively say that the contrast is immense. I cannot help wondering if this contrast has had some effect on those reviewing the film so favorably. In other words, could there be a tendency to judge the film entirely on its 'filmic magic' (which I acknowledge is there) and completely ignore its lack of relevance to the nature of one's actual recalled experience?

A stunning exercise in pure cinema. This is the third and final part of his autobiographical Childhood Trilogy. He uses very a very stylized presentation of snippets of memory (Proust-like) overlaid with snips of movie soundtracks and songs to evoke the emotional content of coming to terms with himself in a loving family (at last). If you have seen Visions of Light, this is what it was all about. There is not a wasted frame in this film. Beautifully conceived jump shots, sound over lays and an overhead tracking jump shot that is simply amazing. If you a looking for a plot line or "story telling" you will not find it here. If you are looking for amazingly true and honest cinema that is like moving frames of Vermeer, this is for you.

That is exactly how it felt watching this. I'm fairly receptive to the concept of the director sharing his childhood memories and experiences with this "not me" setup. But there is something galling about observing such pettiness and annoyances of a boy being plastered on film. Even with beautiful camerawork and soundtrack that, at some point, became like buckets of water splashed into your face. As every time the new song swells, it prompts you to be attentive.

Other than that, Buddy just sulks around in his loneliness that the director assuredly claims he enjoyed, but I don't think even the paper he wrote the script on believes that. It certainly didn't translate onto the screen as he continuously stays at home, longingly watching people leave or pass by his window. As he desperately, almost obsessively, tries to fill the void with movies. Something assuredly relatable to many people. And of course, the realization of homosexuality certainly added to his psychological isolation.

However, the memories are so specific and petty that they fail any kind of allure of said childhood. It has no fantastical imagery of Amarcord or warmth of the Mirror. It's detrimentally bitter and sulking, and you just want to yell at the kid to suck it up. We all had lice checks and obnoxious badly smelling shampoos for it, this isn't your personal Vietnam.

"The Long Day Closes" is set in Kensington- not the ritzy, upper-class district of West London but a run-down working-class quarter of Liverpool. The time is the late forties or early fifties. The main character is Bud, a shy, sensitive 11-year-old schoolboy who lives with his widowed mother and siblings. Bud's family is a loving one who make up for in warmth and spiritual values- they are devout Catholics- what they lack in money, so unlike many tales of working-class life this is not a slice of misery porn. (Apart, that is, from the misery caused by the weather. In keeping with the north-west's reputation as the wettest part of England, it always seems to be raining).

Nor is it made in the "kitchen sink" social-realist style so popular in the British cinema of the fifties. Although some of the interiors recall those seen in kitchen sink films, writer-director Terence Davies was aiming at a poetic rather than a social-realist treatment of his source material. There is no real plot line. Scenes of Bud at home, at school, in church, in the cinema or hanging out with his friends are juxtaposed in a sequence which pays little heed to the demands of strict chronology or of story development. The cinematography is distinguished by the use of long tracking shots and unusual camera angles, including overhead shots. It is said to contain the longest continuous shot of a carpet in cinema history.

Davies's use of music is also important. The soundtrack includes not only the popular music of the period but also jazz and classical tracks, often chosen to enhance the particular mood of a scene. The film's title derives from a poem by the Victorian poet Henry Chorley, which we hear in a musical setting by Sir Arthur Sullivan (of "Gilbert and..." fame) over the closing credits. The poem is ostensibly a description of an evening scene, but like many poems on this particular theme it can also be read as a poetic meditation on death or on the transience of earthly things and was doubtless chosen because it seems appropriate to the film's theme of nostalgia for things past.

This is a difficult film to review because it is so different from virtually anything else I have ever seen. While I can appreciate what Davies was trying to do, this has never really been my favourite film. Its problem, in my view, is its length. Now that we no longer divide films into "A" and "B" movies, it is difficult to get a film shown in cinemas, even arthouse cinemas, if they are not of the regulation feature length, but films which are more marked by poetic or artistic qualities than they are by things like narrative or character development often need to be considerably shorter than the standard 120, or even 90, minute slot. It seems to me that something like "The Long Day Closes" falls into this category. Had it been shorter, say around an hour in length, it would not have outstayed its welcome in the way it does, but Davies would have had problems getting it into cinemas. He might even have had difficulties getting it shown on British television, which can be reluctant to take risks. 5/10

If you see poetry as a way of looking at life- a particular awareness or appreciation perhaps- then this film is about as close as you can get to a representation of poetry on film (along with Davies earlier- and quite similar biographical film- 'Distant Voices, Still Lives').

Memory sometimes reduces things into metonymy, and this could be used to explain the beautiful simplicity of the visuals- usually emphasising a certain aspect of living- time passing, light hitting a surface etc... bringing it out of obscurity and making the viewer focus singularly on that aspect... which is why this film could be labelled transcendental. Things that pass, or are taken for granted in everyday life transcend themselves in this film.

If you have enjoyed this film I would strongly recommend that you see 'Distant Voices, Still Lives' as well as the great works of directors such as Robert Bresson and Andrei Tarkovsky- examples of other directors whose gaze turns life into poetry.

By some definition, this is a great film. It is as "still" as any movie I've ever seen (rivaled, perhaps, only by BARRY LYNDON), meditative, thoughtful. The soundtrack of pop tunes is part of the content of the film: remembered music, remembered frights, remembered ease. Director Terence Davies, in recalling his youth in Britain in the 1950s, has filmed a metaphor for growing up that resembles TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, plus color, minus the melodrama. This film will definitely not be to everyone's taste, but for those who are of the right age and sensibility, it may be a transforming experience.

"The Long Day Closes" has the kind of emotional impact that the Hollywood bunch could only dream about. There is very little in the way of plot--just a series of memories, as if a family photo album had come to life: like the family at Christmas time. No forced, artificial story lines, like Mama's Dying and We Gotta Pay the Rent--just a perfect rendering of a certain family at a certain time. If you're expecting some sappy tear-jerker, oh boy, do you have the wrong movie. The images here are so powerful, the use of music and old film dialog is so effective. I feel sorry for people who found this movie boring. You obviously didn't get it. Your loss.

This film highlights the cultural gap between the US and the UK - an astonishing, demanding and intelligent film that will only appeal to those with European knowledge or sensitivity to a specific time and location. It's actually the third part of a trilogy, the first two being 'Distant Voices' and 'Still Lives'. Together they make up one of the most unique documents about growing up in the North of England. The pace is measured and takes some time getting used to, but these award-winning films keep their power no matter how many times you watch them. Shot on a shoestring over several years, this last part is about the power of cinema, family, friends and memories.

"The Long Day Closes" is one of the stranger films I've ever seen. In many ways, it's a lovely and highly artistic film. But, sadly, it's also pretty much plotless (at least in the traditional sense) and dull. In other words, it's an artsy film that the average viewer will hate but 'smart' people will adore.

The story is like looking into an adult's mind and pulling out pieces of their childhood. The pieces are not always connected and mostly show snippets of the child's life during a short period of time...and it's all set to an ever-present sound track...almost like a music video.

If you want a plot, connections between scenes and a fast (or even normal) pace, try another film. While it looks almost like poetry put to life, the story is also amazingly lifeless and uninvolving.

Sadly. Wasted time. Not even a story to tell of.

If you are looking for movies that are just scraps of someones life maybe this could be for you. The rates are terribly high for such a terrible film compared to REAL masterpieces.

This deserves a close to 3 or 4 in ratings but sadly people talk high of it for the nostalgic Late British scenes of what life used to be. If you are into these stuff and don't care about wanting to watch an story unfold before your eyes, this may be the movie you are looking for, but otherwise, there are millions of movies that deserve being seen and definitely this is not one of them.

This movie has given me many hours of pleasure. Remarkably it offers nostalgia for places I have never seen and experiences I have never had. Do not seek fast moving excitement or slick dialogue when you go to see this film, but be prepared to wallow in its sad, wistful beauty. If you are a person who fares best in jovial company then perhaps this is not for you but if you have ever felt alone, or sad without knowing quite why, then you will recognise the chief character, Bud, played to perfection by Leigh McCormack. Of the many children appearing on our screens, often applauded excessively in my opinion, this child has to be one of the best in assuring the integrity of the project. There is no unnecessary music in the film but it is filled with gems which add to the overall feeling of nostalgia, as do the short soundtrack clips from cinema of the period. It is possible to switch this film on at any point and watch for a while as you might stand in front of a painting, but once I have started my VCR I cannot resist watching it in its entirety from the elegance of the title frames, through its succession of windows and its constant rain, to the inevitable fading of the light as the "long day closes".

Its been said that everyone has a wonderful book in them, if they only had the skill to bring it out. Terence Davies has made several quality films, but The Long Day Closes is his personal masterpiece. Evocative, nostalgic, the film depicts a childhood lost and sweetly remembered at a time and in a nation struggling to right itself following a devastating war. Davies abandons traditional film-making and works from intuition and powerful memories to create something truly special and magnificent. Certainly not for everyone. If you are moved primarily by American Idol, Wrestlemania and NASCAR pileups, and if your idea of nostalgia is reruns of Happy Days, this movie would be a waste of your time.

First of all, I immediately spot the stylistic resemblance with "The Spirit of the Beehive", "Eternity and a Day", and "The Double Life of Veronique", that's why I fell in love with "The Long Day Closes" within the first few minutes.

Secondly, I have never seen myself so much in a character since Eugenio in Marco Berger's "Hawaii" (2013). Like Bud, I was a shy, lonely daydreamer, and an outcast at school. The difference is that my teenage life was harsher and less lyrical than his.

By the way, I also have two minor moans against this film:

• I know sexual awakening is not its central theme, but I wish the sexual moments were more present. Otherwise, the film would go straight into my top 5 favorite.

• It is too short! I swear I'd have no problem watching a 5-hour long movie of Bud looking moody, doing mundane things, and dealing with his homosexuality.

"The Long Day Closes" is not only well-made but also deeply relatable to me, so... welcome to my 5-star club, Mr. Terence Davies!