In a number of portrayals of women passing as men, gender-bending is a method of establishing an identity. In Albert Nobbs, the diminutive, soft-spoken, ginger-haired Irish hotel butler (Glenn Close) becomes a man, in part to escape the brutality of men in a previous relationship, but more for anonymity. Albert makes few social statements through her disguise; rather, she wishes to be more akin to the furniture in the hotel. As guests enter, Nobbs is often seen stiffly standing against a wall, nearly obscured by a grandfather clock of wide bureau. She doesn’t flee, but she doesn’t stand out. She’s, in effect, “disguised as [herself],” a butler, an expected addition to a high-end establishment.
If it weren’t for The Help and the political rhetoric therein, Glenn Close would surely have won an Oscar this year. It’s her sixth nomination, which usually earns enough punches to redeem gold. More importantly, she plays this role so well that I often forgot that I was watching her and just began watching Nobbs navigate his way through a patriarchal society, attempt to “walk out” with Helen (Mia Wasikowska), and dream of becoming a tobacconist with his own shop that has a “parlor in the back” and “sells sweet meats” on the side. Albert Nobbs is not about the danger in cross-dressing, attaining love, or hiding a perverse facet of character. Rather, it’s about blending in and trying to escape.
Whether we look at Nobbs or Hubert Page (Janet McTeer), the other woman disguised as a man, the ultimate reason for their deception is simple: money. Admittedly, and as noted before, Nobbs seeks anonymity, and Page finds passing as a man a means of self-assertion. Nobbs is the quiet lad while Page is the confident braggart. At the same time, Nobbs and Page are both weaving themselves into a society in which “hundreds of young men are walking the streets of Dublin looking for work.” To be fair, women work, but, seemingly, they make far less than their male counterparts, and their employment also appears to impede their chances to marry, something that is evidenced within the hotel itself. All the maids are unmarried and the casting of characters shows the range from youth to senior as if to suggest that employment leads to isolation.
To be fair, the younger maids are not prudes. On the contrary, they speak in innuendo around the dinner table, asserting that one of the guests will “leave you high, but I wouldn’t say dry.” They carry on a handful of trysts. The young, brunette maid has an affair with Dr. Holloran (Brendan Gleeson) and Helen gets involved with Joe (Aaron Johnson), the young man with a tragic past who’s hired to fix the boiler.
Because Albert is such a tacit, “strange little man” who wishes to go unseen, this film needs conflict orbiting around him. And the above juxtaposition of money and sexuality is it. The two don’t co-exist. If one has money, it’s because she has dedicated her life to work and singledom, or because she has married and dedicated her life to wifery. On the other hand, posing as men allows Nobbs (theoretically) and Page (realistically) the opportunity to earn money, assimilate into the social patriarchy, and provide them with a wife and family image. Page has embraced these opportunities and found a wife to love and live with. To the film’s credit, it could have veered into a discourse on homosexuality, but it doesn’t. Rather, when Page says “we loved each other,” it’s read in an earnest, humanely sentiment.
Nobbs has always seen marriage as an impossibility, repeatedly wondering, “do I tell her before the wedding or on the wedding night?” Even asking Helen to “walk out” with him is a bit painful to watch. His inexperience as a middle-aged man is reminiscent of a teenage boy’s proposal to his first girlfriend. Nobbs’ tremulous voice conjures images of sweaty palms and racing hearts. In this, he is endearing, but forever lost and out of place.
And of course, Nobbs’ choice of potential companion is in love with another man, Joe, who, in addition to being damaged, is kind of a drunk, a weasel, and an all-around ass. So, this is where the need to create conflict around Nobbs becomes a touch problematic. The performances are believable, and, at times, you care about the events, but for the most part, the film follows a well-worn route and ends as you expect it to.
There’s a glimmer of hope in the final scene, but it also comes with a wealth of darkness.
