John Greyson's The law of enclosures

TAKE ONE, Fall, 2000 by Cynthia Amsden

John Greyson made his moving-image debut at the age of 16 with a black-and-white, 3/4 inch AV camera rented from the school board at his London, Ont., high school. His impetus was seeded by an art teacher who believed art history began in 1960 with Vito Acconci, a New York-based experimental artist.

It was a piece about his family, and he wrote an "automatic text" in which the length of each line was determined by the size of the page. Family members read the text. It's was a single shot. The text made no sense, but conceptually he was striving for a very formal pose based on a family portrait (the idea sprang from a visit from his grandparents) and the reactions between each person. A normal documentary would watch them interact around a picnic table capturing everyday life. This was a formal set-up divorced from everyday life, catching pieces of humour as they giggle and tease each other, shifting uncomfortably. He is particularly fond of it.

Twenty four years later, Greyson has completed The Law of Enclosures, which he coyly labels his mid-life-crisis film. Sitting in the kitchen of his newly acquired Toronto home, he revels in his new--found status as an owner/gatherer, no longer a renter/gatherer. Having transversed his way through the political hinterland of gay subjects, he concedes that The Law of Enclosures is less political than any of his other films. "But it ain't no comedy," he says.

Damon D'Oliveira, producer on Law and a strong supporter of Greyson's work (D'Oliveira acted in his Uncut) notes, "John, at 40, is at the central point between the two ages of the relationship which Law picks up on. So he can look back on his early 20s and forward to his 60s." Most relationship films work their way up to the "happily ever after" stage. Law is the "after" segment. "This film picks up on the reality of relationships and how what attracts us about a person at the beginning of a relationship can change very quickly. It's not pretty, but it's fascinating," says D'Oliveira.

Adapted from the novel of the same name by American author Dale Peck, The Law of Enclosures is a duet in collapsed time, a marital portrait of Henry and Beatrice. For 40 years they have been stuck in their marriage, stuck in 1991, stuck watching the Gulf War on TV from the moment they meet until the hour of their death. Beatrice (initially played by Sarah Polley and then later by Dianne Ladd) first meets Henry (Brendan Fletcher/Sean McCann) in a check-out line, noticing an egg-shaped tumour at the base of his neck. At first intrigued by his terminal illness, and then entranced, she follows him around the back roads of Sarnia, a petrochemical refinery town perched on the Ontario/Michigan border, ultimately falling in love.

A last-chance operation brings Henry new life, and the two marry. Tragedy averted and their roles of co-dependence eliminated, the marriage carries on for four more decades, withering their respective personalities until husband and wife are alien to each other. While visiting their old friends Myra (Shirley Douglas) and Stan (Victor Cowie), who is dying of cancer, Hank and Bea make one last ditch effort to renew their lives by buying land and building their dream house, hoping to find the dreams to fill it. But Bea falls ill with cancer, ironically reigniting the spark that began their relationship, and together, their original roles reversed, they attempt to repair their love.

Inherent in Peck's novel, and gleefully enhanced in the screenplay, are the organizing metaphors that are signature Greyson. "The art of the metaphor interests me. All the artists I'm interested in, which is a broad spectrum, share a commitment to formal innovation and innovative structures that are sometimes self-reflexive or bring attention to themselves. When I'm looking for something to adapt, I'm drawn to visually strong things. The metaphors have some sort of life to them that speaks uniquely, but it's not about being pretty or grand."

There is a sampling of easy-to-decipher metaphors such as a clock as a representation of stuck time. A deer is Henry, elegant and fated. The location itself, set in Long Island in the book but moved to Sarnia's Chemical Valley, is an industrial landscape. It is one of the most surreal metaphors and offers a tie-in with the Gulf War. Indeed, war footage is threaded throughout the film--another bit of vintage Greyson. Both Sarnia and the Gulf War are about oil. "The film never goes into it specifically, but there's a very high rate of cancer in Sarnia. We chose the location and we started thinking about that iconography and spent time there, staring out at those shining pipes gleaming against a blue sky, spewing out perfect clouds of gas and exhaust."

The embedded metaphors can be found in a deserted water park, a symbol of desolation and loneliness to Greyson. At a more cerebral level are the number games (Greyson used the alphabet for the same purpose in Uncut), specifically countdowns. "These play a huge part in the film. We have 11 countdowns. We couldn't stop. Sometimes they're very explicit, sometimes buried."