
Trevor Link:
Near the end of Hannah Takes the Stairs, there’s a moment between Hannah (Greta Gerwig) and Matt (Kent Osborne) that is particularly impressive. Whereas Kissing on the Mouth(2005) and LOL(2006) focus largely on the obstacles to communication and on frustrated attempts at intimacy, this scene between Hannah/Greta and Matt/Kent is perhaps the first genuinely unguarded moment in Joe Swanberg’s films. Filmmaker Tom Russell has also isolated this moment, writing in early 2008 (at a time Hannah was Swanberg’s most recent film) that the scene is the “best moment” in all of Swanberg’s work. Noting the moment’s “emotional complexity,” Russell further praises Swanberg’s direction, arguing that although Gerwig might have had a huge role in creating this moment, it is nevertheless true that “an actor cannot create a moment like that in a vacuum.” Hannah is the first film in Swanberg’s body of work where we actually see this mask slip. And what is remarkable about this moment is not just the sight of someone without the lid sealed tightly over the currents of her emotion life but instead how affecting it is to see someone in the midst of revealing herself, someone who doesn’t even yet know that she is about to bare herself before another person but who is figuring everything out in the moment.
The complex process by which an individual processes her emotions in the moment and responds to the presence of another human being is made visible through Gerwig’s (the actor’s) own struggle to let her character (Hannah) emerge through her performance. If Swanberg’s approach to acting can seem unpolished and even crude, there is a purpose to it: by handing over to the audience performances that are not (what we would consider) fully-formed, Swanberg shows the uncanny ruptures of social interaction gone rogue. What we all know to exist but are disturbed by actually witnessing, our deepest emotions are now uncanny breaches of a superficial culture. In this scene, Gerwig’s Hannah is having a conversation with Osborne’s Matt, a coworker. Hannah has been dating another coworker, Paul (Andrew Bujalski), but when problems arise between them, she predictably gravitates toward Matt.
After hanging out a few times, alone or with others, Hannah and Matt have a conversation at her home, after which they begin to kiss (with the suggested possibility that they then have sex). Hannah is not only navigating the complexities of a workplace romance in the context her, Paul, and Matt all working closely together, she is also attempting to make sense of her newfound feelings for Matt. In situations like these, we invariably put up fronts, wear masks, because not only might emotional directness be dangerous, it would also sound strangely and fruitlessly awkward. It’s not just that we don’t tell each other how we really feel, it’s that the shortest distance in this case is not a straight line. Human relationships are inherently messy, requiring that we take circuitous routes in order to arrive at some form of honesty and candor. The result is often uncanny: the proper functioning of our social equipment breaks down and our emotional innards uncontrollably spill out for all to see. Much like the work of an actor, this is the result of a process of “arriving at” someplace honest, a locality not visible on the maps of social interaction.
This is exactly what occurs between Hannah and Matt. After hearing Matt reveal his struggles with depression, including his very vulnerable need for anti-depressant medication, Hannah is moved to see beyond her narcissistic use of Matt as a diversion from the problems in her relationship with Paul. No doubt, she had always been aware that other people have problems that rise above her own, but in this moment, another human being’s needs unabatingly push back against her own self-involvement. As Hannah/Greta sputters, attempting to corral in her loose thoughts and feelings, we do not see a volitional unmasking but rather the spasmodic breakdown of the numerous screens that project social competence despite the churning of emotions underneath. Like the air being sliced clean through, Gerwig’s performance disturbs the complacent normalcy that pervaded Swanberg’s work up until this point. It is perhaps also the first moment of what we might call “drama” to appear in a Swanberg film, though these moments appear liberally in his subsequent films.

This is exactly what occurs between Hannah and Matt. After hearing Matt reveal his struggles with depression, including his very vulnerable need for anti-depressant medication, Hannah is moved to see beyond her narcissistic use of Matt as a diversion from the problems in her relationship with Paul. No doubt, she had always been aware that other people have problems that rise above her own, but in this moment, another human being’s needs unabatingly push back against her own self-involvement. As Hannah/Greta sputters, attempting to corral in her loose thoughts and feelings, we do not see a volitional unmasking but rather the spasmodic breakdown of the numerous screens that project social competence despite the churning of emotions underneath. Like the air being sliced clean through, Gerwig’s performance disturbs the complacent normalcy that pervaded Swanberg’s work up until this point. It is perhaps also the first moment of what we might call “drama” to appear in a Swanberg film, though these moments appear liberally in his subsequent films.


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