Behind the Masks, by Tyler Smith

FACES (1968)
Written and Directed by: John Cassavetes
Starring: John Marley, Gena Rowlands, Lynn Carlin, Seymour Cassel

In film school, one will frequently be asked who one’s favorite directors are. Chances are, if you’ve taken the time to actually go to film school, you have a definite answer to that. After being there a while, though, you’ll start to notice that there’s a follow-up question to that, which is, “Who are your influences?”

It may seem as though these are the same question, but they most certainly are not. To give an example, I love the work of Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock and Billy Wilder. However, in the films that I’ve made and desire to make in the future, I’ve found that I have no desire to emulate the work of these great directors.

Instead, when asked the question of which directors I am influenced by, the top four on the list are Jim Jarmusch, Robert Altman, Sidney Lumet, and John Cassavetes. Over the course of talking about my favorite films, I’ll be discussing what I like about each one, but, today, we’ll focus in on Cassavetes, and his second film, Faces.

I’ve only seen this film three times and, as strange as it will sound, I probably won’t be watching it again for several years. Cassavetes’ films are always very difficult to watch. Not because they are bad or cruel or exploitative or anything of that nature.

No, the reason they’re so difficult to sit through is because they are so damned uncomfortable. His characters relate to each other in a way that make a viewer cringe. And, it should be noted, that this is exactly the way Cassavetes wants it.

After viewing several of his films, the best way I can think of to describe a John Cassavetes film is this:

“Have you and your friends ever told a joke so many times that, after a while, it ceases to be funny, and just becomes awkward? Well, imagine that first retelling, when everybody realizes that it’s not funny anymore, stretch that out to two hours, and you’ve got yourself a John Cassavetes film.”

Cassavetes thrives on discomfort. He loves to show characters who don’t know how to interact with each other and so will do whatever comes to mind. Just like awkward moments in a conversation, this is almost painful to watch.

And, yet, after a while, one starts to appreciate what he is doing. After all, with awkwardness comes a certain degree of vulnerability, and with that comes humanity. During those moments when you’re struggling with what to say next to hold somebody’s attention, you cease to be the person you’re trying so hard to be, and, for the briefest of moments, you start being who you actually are.

Sound complicated? It is. Especially when Cassavetes takes hold of it.

Faces, perhaps more than any of his other films, is the best representation of the Cassavetes style. The characters here are so terrified of showing who they truly are that they are willing to make total jackasses of themselves. As odd as it may seem, the theory of their behavior seems to be that it is better to act like a jackass than to be yourself.

The first thing a viewer will notice is how much these people laugh. They are constantly laughing at the slightest thing; sometimes at nothing at all. It’s hard to understand why they’re doing this, then one realizes that, for most of these characters, they laugh to keep themselves from crying.

That’s where the title comes from. These characters are putting on these happy, jolly faces to keep anybody else from seeing the real person inside. They show what they think people want to see: somebody who’s got everything figured out, who always has a joke or a dirty limerick, a guy who’s always having a good time.

It’s frustrating for the other characters, and, thus, for the audience as well. We really don’t like these characters, because we feel we don’t know them. But, then, nobody really knows them. That’s the idea behind their masks.

Since we never see who they really are, we never see what motivates them. Consequently, when they finally do assert themselves, it’s very shocking. For example, a husband and wife are laughing together and seemingly having a good time. All of a sudden, the husband states that he wants a divorce. It comes out of nowhere, both for the wife and the audience. Where did this come from?

There’s no way to possibly predict it, because any problem that the husband may have had with the marriage he kept to himself. Why express one’s true needs when one can just act like everything’s okay?

As I said before, this kind of interaction is painful to watch; almost unbearable. But, the fact is, we all know someone like this. We all know somebody who will never take anything seriously, who is always laughing at something, who is always the life of the party. This person is always fun, at first, but, soon, you realize that you have no idea who this person really is. And, after a while, the jokes start to wear thin, and you find yourself wishing that this person would just be real, for once.

But, often, they can’t. They can’t show vulnerability; not to their friends, their relatives, their spouses. They’ve had this mask on for so long that they soon find that they can’t take it off, even if they want to.

These people annoy us for a while, but soon we just feel sorry for them. Just as we do for the characters in Faces. We watch with frustration, but it soon melts away to pity. We almost wish we could just hug them and tell them that it’s okay to be themselves.

The film winds up being a cautionary tale, saying that those who are afraid to let others in will wind up like these people, laughing for no reason, and perpetually at arm’s length away from everybody they claim to love. A film like this makes me appreciate the relationships that I do have, and inspires me to, as John Eldredge wrote, “let people feel the weight of who (I am), and let them deal with it.”

At the end of Faces, I feel as though I have learned something about people, and, perhaps more importantly, about myself. And, it wouldn’t be possible if Cassavetes was unwilling to challenge his viewing audience. It’s that kind of unflinching integrity, not to mention a focus on character above all else, that has made me respect Cassavetes. And, as a filmmaker, it has been a large influence on me, not only in how I make my films, but in what I choose for them to be about.