Some of the best films use illusory concepts that hint at deeper meaning rather than giving audiences everything they want in one serving. Symbolism is powerful in these films; think the neon-basked hallways of Nicholas Winding Refn’s “Only God Forgives” or Joaquin Phoenix’s subtle traumas in the excellent “You Were Never Really Here.” In this ilk, Director Jan Van Dyck’s SXSW narrative short offering “The Nipple Whisperer” attempts to instill feelings and emotions through subtlety and score. The acting and cinematography are great; and even if the scenes initially feel purposefully vague, the ultimate effect is worth the effort.
Writing this review the reverse of my usual style, I will state the obvious, and the only real thing about “The Nipple Whisperer” that takes the film down a notch for me: it’s simply too vague at times, which I found somewhat confusing. It opens on two people discussing approaching the titular character of this film, Maurice Sanders (Denis Lavant), who used to be ‘The Nipple Whisperer’ but has since been retired since his muse, Doris (Wendy Dresner), was forced to retire due to illness. That illness is exposed during the course of the film in one of the most majestic, real, and beautiful shots at this festival, so I will not spoil it here. But up until that point Sanders’ purpose is kind of vague; this is an artful film, and must be enjoyed in that vein rather than narratively.
There are several high points of “The Nipple Whisperer,” and what Director/Writer Van Dyck has done here is to create true art. This is a film you take in and have to sit with; it’s themes become apparent with introspection. They say the best art makes you think, and the best films begin after the credits roll. “The Nipple Whisperer” is a solid case in point.
The film’s themes are many, and the fact that Van Dyck was able to fit them into a sub twenty minute short is a testament to his success. Lavant is a treasure; he takes scenes that would be uncomfortable or dare I saw lewd in the wrong hands and the wrong script and somehow transcends the material. The title is apropos; we know what a Horse Whisperer is, so, by deduction, we can figure out what a Nipple Whisperer is. Except, Van Dyck keeps the ultimate purpose of this gift an enigma until its closing scene. Sanders is called to initially work his skill on a model for a soap commercial (a woman named Angela, played by Elke Shari Van Den Broeck) who is none too happy about the low-level work she’s being offered, even less so that she must appear sultry and enticed during it. But during the commercial, after her meeting with Maurice, as bubbles fly around her, a levity of soul and allure adorn her face, and the only word for it is not sexy, but free. The cinematography makes the scene; it may as well be the rays from Heaven touching her face instead of those bubbles.
But what works about “The Nipple Whisperer” is that it hints at concepts that are larger than its material. There’s the theme of the once gifted society member who retired when he lost everything that was dear. This of course mirrors Doris, who lost so much more than just her physicality after profound illness. But there’s even subtle stabs at societal worth. Maurice resembles a disheveled derelict—is this how we determine society’s worthy? Or is it something much more ephemeral and out of grasp? The pieces of late life and retirement are here: a man that thought he had nothing left to give finds his purpose again, if only for a moment. His awakening feels like a painting: we watch from afar as if the emotion of Van Dyck’s picture is something eternal, captured in oils and acrylics, rather than movie reel and lighting. It makes you think and feel, which any good picture should do.
If there’s any warning to offer, you could say that “The Nipple Whisperer” is art. This is not the type of film you watch looking for coherent narrative and neatly sewn up plots. “The Nipple Whisperer” takes work; it may frustrate some viewers who can’t or won’t get there. On the surface, the film is about a man who has the power to make people feel alive, even though he long-forgot how to. But under it all it’s a film about rediscovering your purpose and feeling beautiful, concepts not merely relegated to the physical.
*”The Nipple Whisperer” is available to watch on SXSW Online for ticket holders and press until March 21st at 1 AM CST.
