The Shape of Things | Review

LaBute’s edgy talkie shows why people who are together should probably not be.

After the last couple of films which saw a warped blood-friendly comedy of Nurse Betty and a flash-forward period romantic piece of Possession, LaBute returns to his roots and showcases what he does best– which is intimate portraits of contemporary relationships which eventually come across like emotional train-wrecks rather than a bed of roses. In a narcissistic and nihilistic voice and a satirical narrative methodology, The Shape of Things ruffles some feathers under a tamer and less revolting manner.

As in Your Friends & Neighbors, museum galleries and scholarly settings seem to be a prime place for encounters of cupids nature, except that, what is brewed up under a LaBute scope turns out to be more of an entanglement than a love connection. An odd museum encounter brings two very different worlds together; the film highlights the oddball attraction between an art school girlfriend (Rachel Weisz) and an insecure security guard (Paul Rudd) who lacks girl and security guard skills. When the film begins, this character is unsure of himself, and by the film’s end he is the next cover boy for GQ! Further impacting their relationship is the presence of another couple, who are in the stamp-licking preparations of their wedding and have their own tensions to contend with. This four-some troupe is the center of LaBute’s examination of relationship break-ups and the possible existing tensions derived from small white lies which are compounded and take the form of even bigger ones. While he turns over an old leaf or says goodbye to a former personality he says hello to his transformed self. At this point, in true LaBute fashion, we can get ready for the rug to be pulled from underneath for some of the characters and definitely us the viewer.

For obvious reasons, this picture looks like a play, that’s because it was one before LaBute took his piece and put it onto the celluloid. With few sequences and especially long takes, it literally feels like a 9 act play with beautifully spiced-up dialogue so smartly done, that it gives a Mamet film a run for its money. The narrative pacing of the picture can be a tad to slow at times, almost letting the dialogue decide where the film goes but the result is that it lets the callousness of his characters ooze out.

Ultimately, out of LaBute’s repertoire of vicious tongue commentaries, The Shape of Things doesn’t fully push the psychological cruelty onto the viewer. As we pause to consider a shot of an exit sign and interpret an exposition’s printed words of “moralists have no place in an art gallery”, we can choose to exercise our artistic appreciation, critical interpretation of the auteur and the artist (LaBute). This seems to be the first film among his works that doesn’t try to shock the viewer, while the viewer still gets a double flipped-bird treatment. Perhaps, by testing the psychological limits of his characters, especially in the moment that is found in the film’s final resting place-we don’t deplore LaBute’s commentary we embrace it as we do with the film’s excellent character portrayals. You’ll love this film for its sharp language and comedic undertones found in the narcissistic commentary which fills up the frame. Though this is not my favorite work of his (In the Company of Men was a great punch in the stomach), his take on gender difficulties is refreshingly true and in this case almost artistically significant.

Rating 3.5 stars