I really love revisiting John Cassavetes’ films – often, it feels like you have to acclimatise to the tones. The characters aren’t asking you to love them: they are tough to take. Love Streams (1984) I only saw for the first time a couple of years back and was always keen to revisit. While it’s not the last Cassavetes’ movie, it feels like his farewell; the enduring image I have of it is one of its last – the camera outside the house during a rainstorm, Cassavates inside lit by lamp light waving goodbye through the window. I had not seen Faces yet when I first watched Love Streams; now, I could recognise that stairwell from the end of Faces; it’s from Cassavetes and Rowlands’ house where they would occasionally film their movies. Aside from the Opera fantasy sequence, I’d forgotten so much of what occurs: the occasional dreams (Gena in a car wreck), the laugh out loud moments (Gena at the bowling alley) and the constant restlessness (John clapping his hands, on the move), how much the two main characters can’t just sit down and pause. Cassavated and Rowlands play brother and sister, a strange choice in casting (out of necessity, Jon Voight was going to play the lead but pulled out two days before shooting). Their exact relationship is obscured, but also builds on the intertextual knowledge that we know that they are married off-screen. For Cassavetes’ character, a wealthy writer who careens through an endless party of women at his house, tuxedo parties and drunken falls; his aged look (also a result of the cirrhosis that was killing him) portrays an exhaustion he is trying to outrun. For Rowlands’ character, she needs a break to rebuild herself for the daughter she has with her divorced husband (Seymour Cassel), her love is too strong and overwhelming. Even when the pair are reunited, their union is fleeting and interrupted, mainly by Cassavates’ spontaneous jaunts away. Love is a continuous stream, as Rowlands’ character often says, but the film projects that life is continual chaos. Only a loose animal menagerie and a torrential storm might make a momentary difference. Beautifully shot by producer Al Ruban with flashes of Bo Harwood’s music; you do get the odd synergy of a John Cassavates movie produced by Canon Films (part of their push to move beyond their genre fare). The character outfits are also spectacular, a blend of casual and debonair fashions. There’s something about this one – it builds on the themes of Cassavetes’ previous movies, but has a warmer, looser feel. It’s all highly strung personalities and see-sawing emotions, hoping for true expression and love, even if all is antagonistic and messy. Watched the Criterion Collection Blu-ray. Recommended.
VHS Tracking 