As rich as the field of documentary is, the realities of filmmaking usually prevent films from achieving the same intimacy, fluidity, depth, and scope as classic written memoirs. With Nick Broomfield’s “Marianne and Leonard: Words of Love,” the stars have aligned, with the perfect match of filmmaker and subject, a fortuitous discovery of lost footage, and a narrative spanning a lifetime, to create a film that not only embodies the best of the written memoir but is even richer because it can include musical performances and wonderfully evocative period footage.
‘Marianne and Leonard’ tells the story of Marianne Ihlen and Leonard Cohen falling in love on the Greek isle of Hydra in the early 1960s. Marianne, a young mother, had fled a failed marriage in her native Norway and came to the island in search of a more authentic existence. Cohen had mostly outgrown both his hometown of Montreal and the experimental novels he was writing; by the time he permanently left the island, he had become a famous singer/songwriter.
Broomfield assembles a thoughtful collection of friends to give an in-depth portrayal of their relationship – how Marianne was the ideal muse to Leonard’s creative work, how Leonard cared for Marianne’s son Axel, and how the pair tried and failed to maintain their relationship during Cohen’s rise to stardom, constant touring, and womanizing. However, what really makes the film special is Broomfield’s exploration of the context of their love, namely the island of Hydra.
The film describes Hydra at the time as a bohemian paradise, a haven for artistic refugees where one could live for nothing and spend time writing or painting in sun-kissed cafes while exploring sex and drugs by night. Broomfield knows this all too well, as he too washed up on Hydra as a 20-year-old in 1968, where he met Marianne. As with Cohen, her support changed the trajectory of Broomfield’s life. She encouraged him to make his first film and she introduced him to the work of D.A. Pennebaker, who had visited the year prior and shot some of the never-before-seen footage that comprises the film.
But while Hydra was a magical place of freedom and creativity for some, Broomfield recognizes the dark side of this paradise. As the ’60s became the ’70s, the island’s drug culture accelerated, while parental responsibility waned, taking a toll on many island children such as Marianne’s son Axel, who has spent most of his life institutionalized. This dual consciousness gives the film its poignancy; Hydra’s bohemian community allowed the talents of Cohen and others to flourish, yet it also took a great toll on many others, including Marianne.
The film traces the rest of Cohen’s career, as he found stardom but still found intimacy and spiritual solace elusive. Marianne eventually remarried in Norway and led a more conventional life among family. Their idyll together let her redefine herself and allowed Cohen the courage to switch from writing to singing and her influence on his music is directly observable in songs like “So Long, Marianne” and “Birds on a Wire.” The two remained apart, but linked, and shared words of love from their deathbeds when they died nine days apart in 2016.
“Marianne and Leonard” not only adds depth to our understanding of Cohen and his art, but it also is an elegy to a lost bohemia and a sad tale of counterculture casualties. Broomfield’s personal engagement and his embrace of the complexities of life and love elevate this film, which travels across decades and continents to show the lasting power of one connection. [A]
