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Safe Review
by Dave Cowen (esch@fische.com)
Copyright 1997 Dave Cowen

[This review contains what some may consider spoilers. However, I feel that these observations on the film could enhance the movie for first-time viewers as well. Read on at your own discretion.]

It's a natural human instinct to attribute cause, and when none is available, to fill in the blanks with unfounded speculations that can be recited as simple truths. At its most harmless, this human reaction to the unknown results in superstition or meaningless legends, but at worst can engulf an individual with a sense of paranoia and the belief in conspiracy. When an individual feels that there is no answer to a fundamental question of human existence, or even worse, the "meaning of life," that individual either shrinks into depression or, if lucky, relies on a strong community or family to help them through their crisis of the soul. Unfortunately, the human animal has a tendency for gullibility in times of crisis, and can be easily lured into a community which masquerading as being there to help, is really there for another reason.

The central irony of Todd Haynes' film SAFE is that Carol White (Julianne Moore), the film's main character, is in a position that many would consider to be more safe in life than any other in our society. A housewife in the San Fernando Valley during the late 80's, Carol spends her days decorating, carpooling, doing aerobics and 'fruit diets'. She has a husband with an advancing career, a stepson, a large European auto, and most of all, a spacious house protected by a huge metal gate. Carol personifies the housewife we've all imagined as being the female component of an 'American dream family'. What could possibly go wrong?

Things start to change. Carol begins having headaches, sleeplessness, sensitivity to smell. She has a coughing fit after driving behind a dumptruck, and later we find Carol hyperventilating while attending a friend's baby shower. Repeated visits to the doctor leaves the doctor with the impression that Carol's symptoms are stress related, which results in a referral to a psychologist. A visit to the psychologist yields little gain, however, when the psychologist tells Carol "We really need to be hearing from you. What's going on inside -you-," and Carol finds she has little to say.

When Carol speaks she speaks in fragments, as if she can not quite verbalize an idea. Carol ends her fragments with question marks -- when asked if she has children, Carol responds "he's not my son, he's my stepson? Rory?" And if questioned in an aggressive manner, or accused of something, she'll let out a defensive "I just...", pause for a few seconds, and say something else. When a waitress asks "Do you know what you want," the best Carol can do is to say "I'll have what she's having." Carol is not a woman who is in control of her life.

After a draining aerobics session, Carol finds a flyer hanging on a bulletin board at the health club labeled DO YOU SMELL FUMES? Carol starts attending seminars on chemical sensitivity, reacts during an allergy test, and becomes convinced that she is suffering from environmental illness. Carol begins a regimen to combat the illness, fasting, popping vitamin pills, creating a "safe place" in her home, and carrying an oxygen tank.

A grand mal seizure in a dry cleaning shop sends Carol to the hospital, where on TV she sees an infomercial for Wrenwood, a getaway for environmentally ill individuals which labels itself a "safe haven for troubled times". Carol goes to Wrenwood, run by the leader Peter Dunning (described in the film as a "chemically sensitive man with AIDS") who preaches that self-help and optimism will help chemically sensitive people overcome their problems. Peter, a charismatic speaker who lives on an extravagant house seen on a nearby hill, has a mantra for attendees at his center: "We are safe, and all is well in our world." Carol seems to feel at home in this community, but her condition worsens, and ends up in a small, porcelin-lined and ventilated igloo.

What most viewers of SAFE have found daunting, exasperating, or have missed entirely is the fact that SAFE is not only an exploration of the impossibility of establishing a cause to all things, but also a satire played with a poker face. Imagine watching Dr. Strangelove with the sound turned off -- one would likely consider themselves to be watching a straightforward war film, and without paying attention to SAFE, the film seems to have vacuous characters, not characters that are being mocked for their vacuity. The late 80's conservative lifestyle is spoofed at every chance, from the Billy Ocean songs on the radio to Carol's reaction to being delivered the wrong color of couch. While many complain that SAFE is boring because nothing happens, nearly every scene contains a hint, or at best a red herring, which is absolutely essential in understanding the film. In fact, SAFE is a mystery comprised entirely of clues that may be considered red herrings.

"We are safe, and all is well in our world."

I mention, at the beginning of the review, that it is natural for we as humans to assign cause to unknown things. It is nearly impossible, therefore, for the viewer to not watch SAFE and construct the clues present into a hypothesis as to why she is becoming ill. It is common for a viewer to take the stance that Carol is genuinely sick, victim of chemicals in the air of everyday life, or that it is completely psychosomatic, but I propose something slightly different in this review.

The second scene in the film is a sex scene, portraying Carol's husband Greg (Xander Berkeley) in the throes of passion. We see Carol's face, impartial, beneath his back and his head, waiting patiently for him to finish. When he is done, she gives him a chaste kiss and a pat on the back.

Soon after, we find Carol wandering through her house, through the kitchens, where the painters are painting. Carol asks for a glass of milk, falls down, and then sits at the table, taking sip after sip. The camera pans back and zooms in at the same time, giving a feeling of spaciousness and expansion to the scene. The space around Carol feels more and more empty as she is dissociated from her environment.

Later in the film, we find Carol and Greg at a client dinner at a high-class restaurant, as one of Greg's business associates is telling a dirty joke. After the punchline, one of the other wives at the table mentions Carol not appreciating her husband's joke. "Carol!" Greg says suddenly, and the camera finds Carol snapping back to attention from having her eyes closed. "I'm sorry, I don't..." she says, pauses, and then mouths the word "sorry" to Greg. Carol doesn't... feel well? Or, perhaps, Carol can't admit she doesn't like dirty jokes.

Throughout the nights, Carol wanders the yard of her home when she can't sleep, caged in by the fence that surrounds the property. One night, when walking through the front yard, she is spotted by the local security company and has the spotlight thrown in her face. She quickly runs back inside the house.

Remember that Carol's son is her stepson -- she doesn't have a real son. When attending a baby shower, Carol is served something that is "melting all over." When the final present is opened, a baby stroller, Carol begins hyperventilating. Later, when at the allergists, Carol is injected with a number of substances that could provoke an allergic reaction. She begins hyperventilating with .1 of 2 milk.

Later in the film, in one of the film's last scenes, Carol is shown with her husband at Wrenwood, as Carol is moving into her porcelin-lined cabin. Greg is walking with her, and then slips his arm around her as though to initiate a kiss. Carol instantly recoils from the touch, walking back about 10 feet, claiming that there must be something in his shirt that she's reacting to. He then asks if he "at least gets a hug", which she then provides, putting her head onto his chest, right on the shirt.

I feel that Carol is faced with a crisis in her life: without having raised a child, without having a job to do (servants perform all of the work in the White household), and without having any responsibilities, Carol has a vacuum in her life, a life with no meaning (the cinematography throughout the first half of the film frames the characters of the film in their houses in such a way to present, on screen, a visual vacuum -- people swallowed by the emptiness of their surroundings) Her husband seems to have little to do with her except for sex, which he pressures her for in the film. She obviously doesn't like the advances, and at least once in the film, uses illness as a way of rejecting his advances. Her house seems like a giant cage, and she an animal being kept for show. Carol is caught between not knowing what she wants in life, living in a society that does not provide her with any purpose in her life, and living in an environment that is not in any way healthy for her, whether it be physically or mentally. What better way to get away then to leave to a camp whose bylaws promise not only isolation from chemical dangers, but also safety from "casual drug use and sexual interaction" between the patients? Quite a few, perhaps.

"We are safe, and all is well in our world."

If SAFE's first half is a maze of ambiguities and possibilities, the film's second half does have one clear answer -- that Wrenwood, and the type of tepid new-age self-help optimism that is espoused there, is quite clearly corrupt.

When Peter Dunning explains his ideas to his visitors, he punctuates his sentences with the phrase "Does that make sense?" When he does so, it doesn't seem as though he's asking to make sure that he is understood, but is instead issuing a threat -- with a defensive tone of voice, the above phrase prevents anyone in the camp from challenging him. When Dunning talks about all of the hatred and negativism in the world, his voice changes to a tone that expresses hatred and negativism towards that hatred and negativism. When Dunning tells another Wrenwood visitor who expresses disgust at the chemical companies who made her environmentally sensitive, Dunning tells her to "Put that gun away!" in the most condescending way possible. He seems to be the perfect new-age hypocrite, railing against the anger and hostility in the world with anger and hostility. Dunning advocates abandoning the world -- he speaks about "throwing away" the newspaper and no longer watching TV so that he would not have to deal with the kind of messages that those media vehicles provide. But what's the real reason he's recommending doing that? It's a good way of keeping his flock on the farm, within the fenced-in confines at Wrenwood. Dunning's house on the hill, Wrenwood's glossy brochure and extended infomercial is a sure sign that Wrenwood is not a benign not-for- profit, but an organization intended to keep it's high-ups with a high incoming cashflow and a pack of admirers. Carol has moved from one environment that is unhealthy for her to another.

Despite the new dangers present at Wrenwood, Carol is sucked in by the entire Wrenwood experience: the staff members there seem to be happy and full of life, Dunning's speeches comfort her that all is well in the world, and she has found a community, however artificial, where she belongs. The isolationism Dunning proposes, however, has an unwanted after effect -- throughout the second half of the film, Carol's condition grows progressively worse. Carol is literally shrinking. She seems shy and more girlish, and a Texan accent begins to creep into her speech (she mentions earlier in the film that she is originally from Texas, not California). By the end of the film, when she has moved into the small igloo, with the tube from her oxygen tank providing her with "fresh air", she has returned to the womb, defenseless, weak, and cared for by a parent that wants nothing more than her money. Carol has become afraid of the world, but instead of teaching Carol the need to take an active fight against adversity, either philosophically or medically, Wrenwood influences her to recoil into herself. Wrenwood's philosophy, that in order to get better, one has to love one's self, seems like a tiny band-aid or placebo pill being used to try and cure a much larger problem. What, ultimately, is that problem? The vacuity of our society and anxiety over the often invisible dangers of modern life. In many other films or TV movies, Carol's final words of "I love you," would be a sure sign that all is better. In SAFE, that's far from the case.

No one is safe. And all is not well in our world. And when we as a society don't have proper support to deal intelligently with crises in our lives, what we end up seeing are those who are trying to take advantage of us in that situation. The constant advertisements for "psychic help lines," the success of the scientologists, and in many cases religion is used to take advantage of those with the natural human instinct to question their place in the world or to attribute cause, and the fear and uncertainty that results from that. Don't be fooled by friends you have to pay for. SAFE spells out, in a satire on the emptiness of American life, just what a mess that can become.

So how can we possibly cope in a world fraught with danger? SAFE is a rare film in that it does not lie with a simplistic or tidy answer, preferring to simply not offer an answer, which is more often than not, the only real answer in life. It may be ambiguous, and it may not be happy, but it sure isn't a cop-out.
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Even if you don't care for what SAFE is saying, it is still a film of much merit. The cinematography is nothing short of striking (see it letterboxed if possible, as framing is very important in the context of the film), and the sound mix is incredible, where the constant noise of our surroundings becomes almost unbearable. Julianne Moore's performance as Carol is breathtaking: her decline in the second half of the film seems truly tragic as Moore's actual physical condition deteriorates (Moore lost 10 pounds during the course of the film and kept strict diets), and her portrayal of a fragile, empty individual is one of the most effective and striking performances seen this decade.

As a side note: for many months after seeing SAFE, I argued with friends about the character James LeGros plays at Wrenwood. Many other viewers were certain that he was trying to 'hit on' Carol. I argued that he wasn't, as I considered him to be flamingly gay. In an interview with Todd Haynes, Haynes mentions that Moore and LeGros decided, behind his back, to play LeGros' scenes with the idea that his character was Peter Dunning's secret lover. Whether gay or not, Haynes has said that he intended for that character to start out by appearing that he was 'hitting on' Carol, but ending up as a kind of camp counselor. It's just another interesting thing to keep in mind while watching the film.

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