Love in a Pond: A quiet little movie that sticks with you

Is it worth your time?

If you like movies that feel like a Sunday afternoon with nothing to do, you’ll probably dig Love in a Pond. It’s not for the crowd that needs a car chase every ten minutes or a twist that turns the world upside down. If you want something loud, flashy, or polished to death, you’re gonna hate this. It’s quiet. Sometimes, it’s too quiet.

Mannie Davis and John Foster have this way of looking at each other that makes you forget you're watching a screen. It’s not grand acting. It’s just... there. Like they actually like being in the same frame together.

The small stuff

There is a scene near the middle where they’re just sitting by the water, and the audio gets this weird, hollow echo. It’s definitely a technical flub, but it made me feel like I was sitting right there on the grass with them. I kept waiting for them to say something profound about love or life, but they just talked about the birds. Thank god for that.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Love in a Pond (1931) through its definitive frames.

The pacing is a bit of a mess. Sometimes a scene ends before you’ve even had a chance to get comfortable, and other times it just hangs there, letting the silence get a little uncomfortable. It reminded me a bit of the aimless energy in The City Chap, but way less concerned with being clever.

Some random notes

• The lighting in the pond shots is hit or miss. One minute it’s gorgeous, the next it looks like they forgot to turn on half the lamps.
• I’m still not sure what the deal was with the background extras in the park scene. They just kind of wander off mid-sentence.
• The dialogue isn't exactly Shakespeare, but it feels like stuff real people would actually say.

There’s this moment toward the end where John Foster messes up a line, or maybe he’s just pausing for a beat too long, and he looks down at his boots. It feels so human. It’s the kind of thing an editor usually hacks out, but they left it in. It’s easily my favorite part of the whole film.

It’s not as gritty or intense as Mortal Clay, and it doesn't try to be. It just sits there, existing, being a little bit broken and a whole lot of sweet. I don’t know if I’d watch it again, but I’m glad I saw it. 🦆