A Single Man
“A Single Man” is about what I expected from a movie directed by a fashion designer. I don’t mean it’s all about the clothes, although the clothes are important, and Colin Firth looks fabulous in monochromatic “Mad Men” attire. What I mean is that director Tom Ford, the former Gucci designer, has no background in film, and it shows through his cavalier treatment of the medium. Whatever Ford feels like trying, he tries. He messes with the color timing; he uses super-slow motion almost fetishistically. If he feels like shooting a scene in black-and-white, he does — it doesn’t signify anything other than Ford finds it pretty. And it’s important to note that none of this monkeying around makes “A Single Man” any less of a chore to watch. Adapted from a novel by Christopher Isherwood, it takes place on a single day in 1962. Firth plays George Falconer, an English professor mourning the death of his longtime boyfriend and preparing halfheartedly to commit suicide. It’s a sort of uncloseted “Mrs. Dalloway,” a long interior monologue in which mundane events become fraught with meaning. Firth, sure to be nominated for an Oscar, is in top form. In public, George maintains a guarded exterior that jells with Firth’s buttoned-down persona, but the actor also gets a welcome chance to cut loose both physically and emotionally. He has superb chemistry with Matthew Goode, who plays George’s lover in limpid flashbacks that communicate the magnitude of his loss. But none of this is compelling stuff. Strong performances and a few affecting scenes can’t rescue “A Single Man” from its glamorous torpor.