Man of Flowers

Dir: Paul Cox

1983

*****

Utterly mesmerisng and hauntingly beautiful, Man of Flowers joins the long list of brilliant but underrated and overlooked Australian films. The idea behind the film came out of a discussion director Paul Cox and actor Chris Haywood had about how easy it would be to make a low-budget erotic drama. They asked scriptwriter Bob Ellis on board but instructed him to spend on more than half a day on it, the finished article being written in just nine hours. Haywood’s then girlfriend Alyson Best had been involved in the idea from its conception and agreed to play the leading lady. They then approached the brilliant Norman Kaye to play the lead, as well as Werner Herzog in a supporting role. It’s not quite an erotic drama in a classical sense – there is no mindless titillation – and one man’s idea of eroticism isn’t necessarily to another man’s tastes but it is totally accessible and I found it easy to relate to. It’s astonishing really what they achieved from a simple idea, a nine hour script and just three weeks of filming on a budget of just $240,000. It made a bit of money and was nominated for pretty much every Australian film award going that year but it’s still a relatively unknown film. Indeed, I only stumbled across it because I’m a Werner Herzog completist. Kaye plays Charles, a wealthy recluse who finds erotic satisfaction in the beauty of art, flowers and a young woman who agrees to undress for him. It explores the issue of sexual inversion and how one’s childhood and our parental relationships can leave a permanent mark on us. In the case of Charles, we see that his mother alternately enveloped him in her embrace and rejected him while his father (Werner Herzog), a remote and humourless man, punished him for being a curious child. The result of this upbringing is that he loves beauty deeply, but cannot consummate a relationship of any kind. I wouldn’t suggest the film explores the work of Sigmund Freud as such – its somewhat Freudian with regard to the relationship Charles has with his mother – but this isn’t pop-psychology. Cox simply portrays how those deeply buried torments of childhood can be so tortuously twisted when reemerging within the conscious mind. In Charles’s case, his stifled erotic obsession has metamorphosed into a richly cultured and critical appreciation of the arts, rather than the typical behaviour that would be considered deviant. We learn in the film that Charles is sexually impotent, unable to become naturally aroused unless stimulated by the aesthetics of form and beauty, so when we see him sensuously stroking various pieces of art, we realise that he is pleasuring himself mentally. Cox’s direction and dream-like style make it feel normal, beautiful even, until more of Charles’s personality is revealed. Much of the story is open to interpretation – many things are suggested but never confirmed. Alyson Best’s character Lisa is the only one who sees Charles for the decent, loving person he is and is just as much the film’s protagonist as Charles is. The use of music is second to none within the film, from the great operatic excerpts to Charles himself playing the organ. The climax is striking – disturbing and beautiful – and once again open to interpretation. Again, it’s almost dream-like but Norman Kaye’s captivating performance is so good that you can totally believe it all happened. As serious and sensual as the film is, it’s also full of humour. Nothing about it should work as well as it does, all credit to Paul Cox. Charles is essentially a voyeuristic sexual deviant with a possible history of murder but he is sophisticated, refined, caring and everything that is the opposite of society’s vulgarity. It’s a crime this isn’t considered a well-known classic when Fifty Shades of Grey is such a popular and successful novel/film. It’s a mesmerising masterpiece, cinematic gold and a near perfect film.