Written and directed by Joanna Hogg
UK, 2013
Exhibition is a collection of moments that add up to something if the viewer is prepared to do the math. Plots, character arcs and narrative considerations are nowhere to be found in this art house offering from writer-director, Joanna Hogg. It’s an immersive visual experience, but its objectives remain tantalizingly out of reach. Challenging and uncompromising, this film is not for everyone. For cinephiles who enjoy the heavy lifting, however, there’s just enough weight to warrant the workout.
At its heart, Exhibition is a love triangle between two married artists and their modernist house. The husband, H (Liam Gillick), knows that it’s time to leave, but his wife, D (Viviane Albertine), is reluctant to accept the truth. We spend most of our time with D, quietly peering over her tightened shoulders. She’s a struggling performance artist who mixes sexuality and fashion to create human exhibits. Director, Joanna Hogg, remains somewhat mysterious about D’s profession in the film’s first half. In fact, unless you have direct experience with performance artists, it’s highly unlikely you will even understand what D is doing. To the untrained eye, it looks like she’s simply procrastinating; mindlessly passing the hours in a string of boring days.
She fusses with her chair.
She looks out the window.
She studies her countenance in a mirror.
She scribbles something on a sketchpad.
It all feels terribly random and unproductive until we near the film’s end, and we suddenly realize that we’ve been watching an artist discovering her project. It’s an unfortunate directorial choice, as most viewers will be trying to solve a mystery rather than enjoying D’s arduous creative journey. Your willingness to take this ambiguous journey with D will probably dictate your enjoyment of the film.
While D’s objectives become clearer as the film progresses, H remains a mystery throughout. Though never explicitly stated, H appears to be some sort of architectural graphics artist. This idea of shape and space permeates his world, as he fusses over the structural details of both home and leisure. An intimate evening with D involves establishing the proper ambiance and carefully posing her naked body. This painstaking attention to detail has obviously strained their relationship over the years. They stay sequestered in their own rooms, occasionally buzzing one another over an intercom system. There is still love here, but it’s buried beneath years of stoic companionship and stifled resentment.
Lastly, there is the house. Built by the architect, James Melvin, it functions as both muse and master to D. Hogg and her cinematographer, Ed Rutherford, photograph the house beautifully, accentuating both its Spartan interiors and its geometric adornments. Mostly, however, it’s all about the windows. There are windows everywhere, stretching from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. Think of the house as a canvas, with the windows presenting its occupants as the composition. On the one hand, it’s an orgy of voyeurism, as we often view D and her artistic ministrations from outside the pane. On the other hand, it functions as D’s inescapable prison. She peers suspiciously out the window as urban sprawl nears her doorstep. When H leaves for the evening, she meticulously checks each room for unseen peril. She canoodles with walls and presses against windows as if trying to summon both artistic and sexual inspiration from the structure itself. Neither house nor husband seems capable of stoking her creative fire. The love affair with the house may have ended years ago, but D holds out hope for rekindling the romance.
Besides the arresting visuals, sound design plays a key role in establishing both mood and theme. Devoid of a non-diegetic soundtrack, sound artist, Jovan Ajder, relies upon ambient noises and silence to create impressive soundscapes. Despite working on separate floors in isolated rooms, we can still hear H’s chair rolling across the wooden floor like some distant clap of thunder; an unseen presence that D finds both comforting and intrusive. There is a stillness here, as the filmmakers invite you to fill the void with your own thoughts and feelings.
Yet, despite its sublime beauty and voyeuristic allure, Exhibition remains emotionally unsatisfying. Like the many rooms and hidden compartments of their house, the characters are resolutely vacant. Gillick and Albertine do their best to interpret the wafer-thin script, but you can sense their desperation as Hogg allows scenes to drag for entirely too long. Though we can feel the weight of their relationship—secrets and wounds acquired during a lifetime together—the interactions between D and H never really amount to much. When D finally agrees to leave the house, it feels less like a decision and more like quiet resignation. By adhering to absolute realism, Hogg’s uncompromising direction undercuts her greater thematic objectives. She wants to explore the architecture of life—the structures we create to provide security and inspiration—but there’s simply not enough depth here to move beyond the metaphorical.
Still, for those who enjoy the occasional art house excursion, Exhibition should provide your fix. It’s challenging, bold and unapologetically dense. Plus, it affords a peek into one of those amazing houses you never get a chance to explore. That we don’t form a more satisfying connection with the occupants inside is what keeps Exhibition from really shining.
J.R. Kinnard
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