Tragedy and Circumstance
Set in South Wales in 1911, Paul Morrison's Solomon & Gaenor narrates the ill-fated love affair between an
Orthodox Jewish man and a Gentile woman during as time
of mine strikes and anti-Semitic riots. Despite its
references to these events, which might bring about
economic and social change, the film never shows the
town's inhabitants confronting their employers or
resolving these cultural conflicts. Instead, it
focuses on how the characters remain prisoners to
their impoverished environment as much as to their
moral and religious beliefs.
Through both story and Nina Kellgren's skillful
cinematography, the film shows that Solomon (Ioan
Gruffudd) and Gaenor (Nia Roberts) are defined by
their different "spaces." When the two first meet,
Solomon is outside his neighborhood, selling fabric
door-to-door. Gaenor, on the other hand, is framed
within the doorway, and ultimately confined to her
family home where she performs taxing household
chores with her mother. Solomon passes as Gentile,
telling Gaenor his name is Sam Livingstone and that he
is English. After a few brief conversations about
fabric, it's obvious he's smitten: using the red
material she likes yet cannot afford to buy, Solomon
sews Gaenor a beautiful dress. Following a few short
meetings, Gaenor allows Solomon to enter her home,
where she models her new dress for him. When her
father startles them, the couple hides beside the
stairwell, framed ominously by a doorway. Gaenor
pushes Solomon out of the house, and while he stands
alone in the street, the fate of their relationship is
summed up in two shots: in the first, Solomon, always
the outsider, stands in the street, gazing longingly
at Gaenor as she undresses (the second shot, showing
what he sees), perfectly centered within the window
frame, hopelessly unattainable.
As much as it's being touted as a Welsh Romeo and Juliet, Solomon & Gaenor never quite reaches the
level of urgency
wanting-to-die-rather-than-live-without-your-lover
of the Bard's beloved tragedy. Aside from longing
gazes and tender post-coital whispers, Gruffudd and
Roberts, both expressive actors, are given little in
the way of dramatic development for their characters.
When asked by her sister if Solomon plans to marry
her, Gaenor asserts, "He needs me." Unfortunately the
film presents no visual or verbal motivation for this
statement; up until this moment, the most Gaenor knows
about Solomon or should I say, Sam is that he
can sew, knows a few Welsh words, and is the son of an
English railroad worker (yet another lie). In
addition, as she notes coyly while they lay naked and
entwined atop a bed of hay, he's "different from other
boys... even different down there." Still, their
relationship is based on shaky ground no deep
conversations, no shared interests, no similar goals
or aspirations, just a red dress and a series of
fabrications. Gaenor learns about Solomon's
Jewishness only when she takes it upon herself to
track him down and finds his home and family in the
small Jewish settlement.
Rather than admit his real concern that he would not
be accepted into her world, Solomon blames his family
for his inability to stand up for what he wants:
"They wouldn't accept you," he tells her. And instead
of dealing with their cultural differences, the lovers
decide to run away together. Needless to say, a
series of unforeseen events prevents their escape.
But the real tragedy is the film's ultimate descent
into the absurd, which includes every cliched plot
device, from the girl's family withholding love
letters from her, to the boy's near-fatal trek through
severe winter weather and harsh terrain to reach his
true love. I wondered if the tragic ending would ever
end!
Although failing to construct a love story on par with
that of Juliet and her Romeo, Morrison, a documentary
filmmaker who also wrote the screenplay for Solomon & Gaenor, his first feature film, paints a compelling
picture of the social and economic conditions of the
time. He details both the Gentile and Jewish
experiences in Wales at the turn of the century and
presents each side's similar response to adversity.
The town's gray skies, muddy streets, plain row
houses, and dimly lit homes only add to the bleak
outlook for each group. Gaenor's family struggles with
economic difficulties while her father and brother are
on strike. Still, while the film mentions the miners'
strike several times, it never provides a sense of the
hardships faced by the workers, nor any specific
explanation for why they are on strike.
In turn, Solomon's relatively wealthy family faces the
imminent threat of anti-Semitic riots, numerous
derogatory references to "Jew-boys," and the
difficulty of earning an honest living when they are
looked upon as unsympathetic, money-hoarding, and
dishonest individuals. Neither family is willing to
set aside their cultural differences, or work towards
understanding or compromise. The film presents both
factions as ruthless and self-serving in their efforts
to prove their superiority over the other. Gaenor's
brother, Crad (Mark Lewis Jones), resorts to violence,
leading the riot that destroys Solomon's family's
store; Solomon's mother, Rezl (Maureen Lipman),
brutally rejects Gaenor and the unborn grandchild,
telling her not to ruin Solomon's life, then offering
her money to leave him alone. Both families take the
"out of sight, out of mind" approach, sending Solomon
to Cardiff and Gaenor to the countryside to give birth
away from neighbors' eyes.
As Romeo and Juliet's doomed love affair is the model,
you know that true love doesn't conquer all. However,
in Shakespeare's mind, youthful passion did have the
ability to foster healing, as the Capulets and
Montagues finally set aside their prejudices, albeit
in the face of death. Solomon & Gaenor's stoic
ending suggests no such learning curve. If anything,
it might make you reconsider the quick roll in the hay
the next time a young handsome salesman stops by. As
Solomon's mother says to Gaenor, "Love, when you are
young, comes and goes." Unfortunately, heartache lasts
a lifetime.