Joshua Zhao
John Cassavetes’ penultimate directorial effort, Love Streams (1984), culminates his stylistic and thematic essence into a lasting homage to his own philosophy. The story pulses and sways as the two siblings, Sarah Lawson (Gena Rowlands) and Robert Harmon (John Cassavetes), live out their tumultuous lives filled with conflict, yearning, and love. As Sarah searches for a new spark in her life to occupy the emptiness from her obsessive divorce and as Robert shirks responsibilities, dodging the opportunity for deeper connection, the two lives are brought back together, and contrasts become similarities. Cassavetes’ confident sense of authenticity to the art of filmmaking and acting blurs the distinctive bounds between art, life, and dreams - making Love Streams a meditative self-reflection on the director’s own life.
Coming from a theatre and acting background, Cassavetes’ films often provide a more informed look at the humanity and complexity within characters. There is a blending of genuine life and art that breaks down the formalism in films from the traditional Hollywood system. Simultaneously with the birth of the French New Wave, Cassevetes’ debut feature Shadows (1958) provides a unique framework for American art film and the rise of New Hollywood. However, an important distinction is made between Cassavetes’ films and the New Wave - the New Wave directors (primarily the Right Bank) generally sought to utilize film to ingrain viewers in art while Cassavetes sought to ingrain viewers in life. Love Streams foregrounds the actors and conflicts at hand - immersing the viewer into the pro-filmic. The camera lingers on as the frame intimately highlights only the actors and their conversations (Fig. 1). Sounds and music are diegetic; characters talk over chatter at a bar, all music plays from a jukebox or live performance, storm sounds rage and mirror characters’ emotions. Heightened low-key and smart side lighting shadows Robert’s face in the moments of vulnerability (Fig. 2). This approach to a more minimalistic and free-flowing nature not only opened a window of new opportunity for films but also provided a grounded aesthetic upon which Cassavetes infiltrates the characters' lives.
As seen throughout his oeuvre, there is a strong interest in familial connections, artists, and the conflict that arises from the two. In Love Streams, this is shown through sibling connection and Robert’s occupation as a pulp writer. Art and life permeate so thoroughly within the film that the two are readily synonymous. “You start thinking about life and you realize that everything is a movie …” (I’m Almost Not Crazy, 15:39). The singularity in execution works in conjunction to underline the main theme of love and what it meant to Cassavetes as a director, husband, and father. Cassavetes does not offer a metonym for his own insights into love and life but rather uses the film to embody his philosophy. This is directly achieved when he casts “... as much of the stage-play cast as possible, supplemented with family members … business associates … and friends” (Carney, 472). Less a studio film and more a passion project, a direct mirrored construction of his own life plays out on the screen. Beyond this, much of the project was directly filmed within Cassavetes’ and Rowlands’ own home - heightening and bringing a docu-esque flair to the film.
Tinged with a wistful nature, Cassavetes, with a life-threatening diagnosis of cirrhosis, muses over mortality through the concept of dreams. Setting the tone, Robert asks one of his transient housemates “Tell me what a good time is.” to which she eventually replies “I guess dreaming” (Love Streams, 5:20). The first half of the film pivots on Robert and Sarah’s separate lives, and the chaos within. Sarah struggles to cope after she is cut off from her family post-divorce and Robert struggles to care for his son. Both seek out materialistic ways to achieve relief or cope - Sarah travels to France and Robert takes his son to a Las Vegas casino. As Robert and Sarah reunite, the film takes a terse turn toward surreal imagery, dream sequences, and a closer semblance of happiness. Cassavetes describes it as “... almost as though Sarah and Robert are dreaming of each other!” (Carney, 478). In a metacontextual sense, Cassavetes and Rowlands play out their on-screen personas imbued with their real sense of passion. It is within each other that they find consolation, beyond the soulless capitalistic impositions around them. As turbulent as the world changes their relationship remains, and they find a throughline of affection between each other. Sarah and Robert exchange the words “I love you.” (Love Streams, 1:35:30) yet only Sarah is seen framed in the shot by the verticality of a doorway (Fig. 3). While Robert’s presence is depicted by the emptiness of the dark room, the weight of his words carries through. A separation of worlds, almost as if each is speaking through dreams, but not a separation of their love.
The ballet opera dream sequence completely encapsulates the film’s approach to love in full surreality and opulent flair. Opening with a dark stage and a singular spotlight on Sarah, the wide lens slowly pushes in to reveal the operatic performance at play (Fig. 4). Pro-filmic continuity is disrupted as the scene becomes enveloped in a foreign and staged set. A shift of temporal and spatial linearity is shattered, driving into the subconscious. Layered in psychoanalytic rationalization, the viewer is forced to interpret a performance play out not only on screen but also in Sarah’s mind. Opening Night (1977) similarly warps the narrative’s verisimilitude through Myrtle Gordon’s (Gena Rowlands) hallucinatory psyche. Cassavetes’ world is so ingrained with the nature of love that the surreal lends itself to the reality of emotion. Lens flair obfuscates the view to intensify the dreamlike quality at hand (Fig. 5). As the camera, akin to one of the dancers, pushes through Jack (Seymour Cassel) and Sarah’s choreography (Fig. 6) - Cassavetes recontextualizes the usage of a long take (often rooted to emphasize inter-character conflict in his films) to bring the dream a further edge of realism. Gliding through, the onstage position of the shot immerses the camera on the level of the performer rather than an audience member. Then cutting to a closeup of Sarah with stark smart side lighting as she pieces her love through song (Fig. 7). Highlighting Rowlands’ earnest portrayal of humanity and love. A stage light barely in the corner contrasts the harsh lighting, creating visual dissonance by disrupting the shadowed background. The sequence ends with a three-shot of the family, now together, with ballerinas partially obscuring the shot as if to remind that there is no visual or total clarity (Fig. 8) to Sarah’s obsessive love. The operatic performance recounts the tumultuous love between the divorced family as they talk in song. It directly harkens back to Cassavetes’ theatre roots while simultaneously creating a hopeful outlook on the torn situation. He shows Sarah’s acceptance of her love and his own implications of the nature of it. In this sense, human sincerity is never sacrificed for visual decadence. Artifice is crafted to support realism and to tonally center in on the themes.
When dissecting Cassevetes’ work, it is paramount to mention the grit and authenticity that long-time collaborator Gena Rowlands brings. It is Rowlands’ adept performance that brings the individuality and personal nature of her characters to the screen. She breathes life and complexity into the frameworks of her roles - filled with spontaneity and nuance. Rowlands is as much an auteur as Cassavetes’ and as the two riff off each other in Love Streams, the thematics of love and acceptance of loss flow through like a stream of consciousness.
