Indecent Proposal

Pointillism is a French-originated style of painting where an image is created out of small spots of pure colour, which seem to mix when seen from far away. Transpose such a definition onto one’s marriage and you’ve got a loving partnership between husband and wife that (only) appears that way when viewed from a distance; up close it distorts to nothing more than tiny, negligible dots of colour. In the foreground of Adrian Lyne’s Indecent Proposal, is such a marriage – the union between Diana (Demi Moore) and David Murphy (Woody Harrelson).

This implicitly insightful, uneven, bathos-ridden film poses questions pertinent to the ingenuousness of all couples – questions that challenge the authentic nature of love. Arthur Rimbaud proclaimed, “Love… no such thing. Whatever it is that binds families and married couples together… that’s not love… that’s stupidity, or selfishness, or fear. Love doesn’t exist. Self-interest exists; attachment based on personal gain exists. But not love. Love has to be reinvented.” This assertion finds contemporary delineation in Indecent Proposal.

Upon introduction, the relationship in question has come apart as David recounts through voice-over, the “invincibility” he and Diana once felt together. Diana’s subsequent narration is an example of the film’s hokiness, as it offers platitudinous simplicity – that hokiness however, is overcome. As the film unfolds, we see a nostalgic, sexually congruous couple set apart from other couples in their mushy fondness for one another. That fondness is tested when their financial stability is lost to economic strains – forced to follow David’s capricious advice of “taking a risk,” and gambling their reserves in Las Vegas.

John Gage (played coolly and competently by Robert Redford), a morally inverted billionaire financier, acts as the pull on this couple’s loosely spooled thread.

Though the film has been criticized as mostly bravura with no real substance, the level of human complexity put onscreen here deserves praise and emulation; this complexity begins with the couple considering an offer of one million dollars for a night with Diana. The film fleshes out Diana’s disaffected, desensitized, seemingly fulfilled American housewife… who treats marriage as an emotional convoy. Signs of quiet dissatisfaction show themselves throughout the film as she remains scantily clad just long enough for Gage to notice, or she accepts her status as his good luck charm in the casino. The viewer should be sure to examine her emphatic assurances of happiness to see how they actually prove her dissatisfied.

The melodrama of Indecent Proposal is a throwback to Douglas Sirk’s brand, in that it seeks to subvert the status quo rather than support it, offering a biting criticism of contemporary marriage. Also Sirkian, are the juxtapositions of sentimentality and subtlety.

The film’s conclusion satisfies the melodramatic formula while subverting its predictability; it offers a fantasy resolution while remaining ambiguous. And as it drives toward that conclusion there’s a magnificent scene that perfectly encapsulates the advantage of properly mixing sentimentality with subtlety. David has coolly arrived unannounced at a benefit auction to sign divorce papers, and in the process the audience shares in the splendour of what he’s learned. Harrelson shines in this scene that oozes real-life complexity dealing with the gap between manhood and insecurity, and discovering how manhood can take its shape by learning from the male stages of insecurity. Underpinning the film’s brilliance is a pensive John Barry score that incites one to self-reflect.

Though the film has been criticized as mostly bravura with no real substance, the level of human complexity put onscreen here deserves praise and emulation. - Jon Lap