Curtains are a character in Peacock. To begin, one notices the window shades are drawn but used for peeking. Revelation then allows them to be thrown open. But by the end the curtains are closed for good. The metaphor of a life could not be more obvious. Do we allow ourselves to look upon a world we fear will not understand us? What do we do when the recurring images of our past keep us from outside light? When we secretly peer out of our confinement, what do we watch, for what do we yearn? How do we cover ourselves so that no one else sees who we really are, who we have become? To what lengths will we go to maintain our individual identity and community equilibrium while hiding a secret that, were we found out, would plunge us back into the darkness?
The curtains open upon John Skilpa. Our character is a shy, diminutive recluse. His life has an unusual self-imposed, self-preservation order. As the movie unfolds we understand that Skilpa’s traumas originate in childhood. Up until recently, John has compensated his social reticence because of his mother’s care. A year after her death, he dons not only her clothes but vestiges of that personality. Psychologists call what we see on screen “dissociative identity disorder.” John is played by Cillian Murphy who has crossed gender boundaries before (Breakfast on Pluto). Cillian’s human features are transformed easily from a shorn, Nebraska cornhusker to a lovely woman. While the town thinks John and his family a bit strange, all are drawn to Emma Skilpa. When I watched this film with a group, one young woman remarked as Murphy’s female persona shows up for the first time, “Oh, she’s pretty!” not knowing what she was seeing. I’m sure Peacock’s makeup artists would take a bow.
And let the curtain rise on the cast and crew. Ellen Page heads a strong supporting cast (Susan Sarandon, Keith Carradine, Josh Lucas, Melissa Leo). Bill Pullman is uncanny in his quirky role as a bank manager. The set design reminds us that places, even houses, can take on a personality all their own. Cheers to the producers for getting this movie made. And Michael Lander’s direction is superb.
Lander is proud that Peacock is a difficult movie to categorize. The aura of Hitchcock’s Psycho hovers about, making one think we will see “mother” at any moment. But Peacock is different. The tension of another Hitchcock classic Rebecca threads its unsettling thriller disposition throughout. But Peacock is different. Melodramatic “what-will-this-town-do?” ideals remind the viewer of Orson Welles’ The Stranger. But Peacock is different. Filmgoers might bring to mind character-driven plotlines that mark the best of cinema such as Anthony Hopkin’s role in Remains of the Day. But Peacock is different. As difficult as it is to categorize so Peacock is indescribable. Yet, one of my young friends with whom I saw the film for a second time simply remarked, “It’s the most humane movie I have seen in a very long time.” If you find yourself thinking about this film for days and weeks afterward you have experienced the power of Peacock. But if you find yourself obsessed with your curtains, you may want to look in the mirror.
Rated PG-13 for disturbing themes concerning children and some violence.
Mark no longer has curtains in his house but some still think he has a split personality. Those interested can contact his students at Crossroads Bible College to see if this is true.