Tom Ford offers multiple moments that could peak the
cinephiliac’s attention, sparking unknown or even unintended emotions. One particular moment, for me, was when
George exits his car outside the convenient store, only to be encompassed by an
enormous poster for the film, Psycho,
which I assume had just been released in the film’s time period. Initially, I remembered watching Psycho earlier in the semester, but then
I wondered more about her frightened eyes.
I found all the scenes that forced me to stare directly, closely into
someone’s eyes both startling and enthralling.
I imagined what George felt as he examined each new pair that appeared
before him; he probably felt a sudden contrast in emotion, wondering one moment
if he could stand living any longer, and the next reminding himself the subtle
beauty in things, in eyes. He fluctuates
between dread and magnificence, and the eyes he stares into support the latter,
bringing him back to the banal emotions that give life meaning.
When I look into someone’s eyes, I can hardly tell a lie
(and if I try, I stumble over my words, clearly giving it away). Think about when your parents interrogated
you for something you knew you were guilty of, and then imagine them saying, “Look
me in the eye and tell me.” At that point, you’re through; you simply
cannot lie to them, and more importantly, you cannot lie to yourself. We understand Marion's emotions in Psycho through her eyes, but we also conjure our own emotions simultaneously. I think
George felt this same reaction when he saw other’s eyes in the film. Eye contact is communication and connection,
but not verbal, not even physical; it reassures us our place. Like us, George feels dull and worthless in
his loneliness, but when he views other eyes (his students, the man at the
convenient store, Charley) it shocks him back into existence. The eyes are the connector in the film; just
when he is in his lowest place, the world throws him constant reminders to
bring him back up.
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