Coming to terms with High Fidelity
This was meant to be about how much I love High Fidelity. How I love the way it talks about relationships, personal growth and breakups through musical references but without being totally disconnected from reality. I wanted to talk about the soundtrack, script, direction and casting but while rewatching the film, I found something that although I had already clocked onto a few rewatches back, had become far more glaring and unavoidable: Rob Gordon is an asshole.
Thing is, this isn’t big news. Hell, there was even a Vice article written by Dan Ozzi not too long ago about how his character birthed an entire generation of “nice guys”. At the time I was too stubborn and/or ignorant to read the piece and felt the writer had missed the point of Gordon’s redemption arc. I have now read Ozzi’s article and it really does echo the same sentiments I feel towards him and the film.
If you haven’t watched it before, here is a brief synopsis: High Fidelity follows (and is fourth wall breakingly narrated by) Rob Gordon (portrayed by John Cusack), a hapless record store owner going through a breakup whilst he lists to the audience his top 5 breakups of all time.
As I previously stated, I had in fact become aware of Rob’s behaviour on my most recent rewatches but I’d never realised to what extent. Maybe I felt his redemption by the end was strong enough, or the film was a little more self aware than I’d previously thought but things really started to turn sour for me recently. His whining, his manipulative nature, his double standards regarding sex with other people when they’re not even in a relationship, it’s all very ugly. It makes for a difficult watch, especially when you’re meant to be rooting for the guy.
For example: during one of the scenes where he meets up with a former flame: №2 Penny Hardwick, a high school girlfriend who wouldn’t have sex with him but did have sex with her next boyfriend.
The scene plays out as such:
Penny Hardwick : I… I was crazy about you. I wanted to sleep with you, one day, but not when I was 16. When you broke up with me — YOU broke up with ME — because I was, to use your charming expression, “tight,” I cried, and I cried, and I hated you, and when that little shitbag asked me out and I was too tired to fight him off, it wasn’t rape, because I said “OK,” but it wasn’t far off! Do you know I couldn’t have sex until after college because I hated it so much? That’s when you’re supposed to have sex, Rob — in college! And now you want to have a little chat about rejection, well fuck you, Rob!
[gets up and leaves]
Rob : [stunned silence, seemingly chastised] God, she’s right. I broke up with her, I rejected her… that’s ANOTHER one I don’t have to worry about. I should have done this years ago!
Eventually Rob does learn, grow and become a better person by the end of the film. The rekindling of his relationship with Laura could have been a lot stronger and all the stuff with the journalist he wants to get with near the end is fairly aggravating after that but I digress. If you’d like to delve more into these aspects, I recommend reading the aforementioned piece by Dan Ozzi. It explores Gordon’s toxic behaviour, his encounters with his ex girlfriends and lackluster redemption in more detail.
So instead of talking about how much I love High Fidelity (which clearly isn’t the case anymore), I want to talk about what the film meant to me growing up, and whether or not it still holds a place in my heart since I’ve had to come to terms with who Rob Gordon is.
I first watched the film when I was 16, I’d just left secondary school (slightly friendless, I’d become a bit of a recluse) and was about to start college. I went through a big phase of watching films that happened to be on TV late at night: Taxi Driver, The Machinist and Fight Club amongst many others (In retrospect this really is the usual film bro repertoire). One night I sat down and watched High Fidelity and even though I loved the others, it was the one I related to the most. Like many I found solace in a character like Rob Gordon; his knowledge on music and pop culture, his neuroticism, his heartbroken and misplaced anger and by the end of the film (soundtracked by the beautiful I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever) by Stevie Wonder) it gave me a feeling that everything would work out in the end and after a while became my comfort film when I needed to get my head straight.
When I first started writing this I was quite angry and felt foolish at how long I’d loved this film for and not been able to come to this conclusion sooner, or picked up on Rob’s toxic traits but in retrospect I’m kind of relieved. I’m a different person now, I’m not that 16 year old recluse who didn’t know who he was yet. I’ve matured since then and rightfully so, if anything I’d be a bit concerned if I still fully related to Rob. Also I can’t ignore the fact that the current landscape has changed in the 20 years since it was released, we’re a little more aware of the manipulative nature of men and people’s aversion to words like rape. The film isn’t even my go to comfort film anymore so it hadn’t held a current place in my film pantheon for a while, I’ve simply outgrown it.
There are still great elements to the film however, in fact the only problem here really is Rob (who is still played very well by John Cusack). The way he reminisces on his relationship with Laura is honestly heartwarming; the top 5 things he misses about her, how he can’t comfort her during her father’s funeral or how he makes a mixtape for her after they’ve got back together.
The supporting roles are all endearing too; from fellow record store clerks Todd Louiso’s Dick and Jack Black’s Barry who is as hilarious as ever (his rendition of Let’s Get It On still surprises me to this day), to Joan Cusack’s supportive Liz and Lisa Bonet’s delightful Marie De Salle. Infact, I’m even looking forward to the forthcoming gender reversed adaptation starring Zoë Kravitz (real life daughter of Lisa Bonet) and I really hope it takes on a more self aware approach.
So here’s to a film I once loved, I’m not Rob Gordon anymore and I couldn’t be happier.
