Lost River Review

It isn't every night. I can't really say how often it happens, but occasionally while attempting to succumb to the serenity of the silence and the comfort of my bed I think about how jealous I am of the younger version of me. There was a time when instead of my mind racing due to stress, it was reaping the benefits of a blossoming imagination. Instead of seeing society through a cynical set of eyes and fearing the unknown, I was off somewhere building worlds from the ground up. I was hopeful of discovering the impossible and finding a way to make it possible. 

I used to dream of literally flying above the earth majestically and I would wake up feeling relaxed and free. I once swam down into my subconscious through an underwater world and I can still recall the vivid detail my mind created out of nothingness. While I still feel young as I approach my 31st birthday, I close my eyes each night only to open them soon after with nothing to analyze in between. Sleep is mandatory and a welcome escape from a hectic and frustrating day but I miss the transition from real to surreal. Lost River made me feel like I was dreaming again.

Premiering last year at the Cannes film festival, I remember eagerly anticipating the first wave of reactions after the debut screening of Lost River and when they came, they hit hard. Reports of aggressive boos came flooding out and they garnered a special level of attention due to the director, the handsome slice of sexy that is an absolute star in front of the camera yet completely unproven behind it known as Ryan Gosling. Some may hear about such angry reactions and then notice the low approval ratings on an aggregate site like Rotten Tomatoes and instantly write a film like this off, but I have learned my lesson in this regard. Two years ago, Nicolas Winding Refn unleashed Only God Forgives at Cannes and it was met with a similar, unfortunate response from critics and audiences alike, and yet I consider that work a masterpiece after three viewings. Therefore, I approached Lost River with a feeling of cautious optimism.

Once again I am left puzzled by the overwhelming negative response of a Cannes failure because I quickly fell victim to the dreamy, magical spell cast over me by Lost River. One of the main complaints I have noticed from the films detractors is that it doesn't really have an original idea of its own, that Gosling borrows heavily from previous auteurs such as David Lynch or the aforementioned Refn and it is impossible for me to argue this point, yet it didn't trouble me in the slightest. While his influences are apparent, Gosling directs the hell out of this film and clearly has a confident, gifted eye behind the camera. Constantly throughout the movie I was picking up on the true detail in a frame, the usage of color and light going on in the background and to say I was impressed is a major understatement. 

I wasn't so much swept away by the narrative of Lost River, although I also don't think it is a flaw like many have made it out to be. It was without a doubt the technical achievements of this film that sprinkled their fairy dust over me early and often. Director of Photography Benoit Debie brings such vibrancy and life to the picture with the neon hues that make even the most normal set piece feel a bit surreal, and the musical score by Johnny Jewel perfectly suits the material, as its enigmatic and haunting tones pulled me in a little deeper and danced through my ears long after the film was over. 

Inside the setting of this film lies a misogynistic underworld that is without a doubt haunting, but the authenticity of these characters normal lives was the aspect of Lost River that I truly can't shake. I often see the world solely through my own eyes, selfishly ignoring that there are real places just like the location presented where real people live. Homes torn down, a displaced community that is treated like a lesser form of life and talked down to by far more fortunate people. It's a difficult pill to swallow. They casually discuss the possibility that losing their way of life might be a blessing in disguise as if the American dream awaits elsewhere, as if a drive south down a highway will lead to more aesthetically pleasing circumstances. Lost River tells the story of those people who aren't pursuing the American dream, but rather prefer the normalcy and familiarity or their surroundings. These aren't the people that lost their way because of a recession but rather those that never truly found their way in the first place. 

The people in Lost River are real and they are out there, struggling to survive because at any moment their lives will literally be torn down in front of them. Ryan Gosling takes their sympathetic tale and delivers it as a fantasy neo-noir, and his vision should be celebrated rather than admonished. I can only hope the negativity that surrounds his debut effort doesn't dissuade him from continuing to explore his potential even further. 

Later tonight before I close my eyes I will hope to drift off down Lost River as I sleep. If Gosling is available to direct what resides in my subconscious, sign me up.

4.5/5

It Follows Review

It follows.

No, seriously, it follows.

As soon as the credits hit the screen, I knew I had loved what I had seen. Actually I knew it the entire time I watched it. Horror is a genre that I don't easily warm up to and the trailers before the film were a perfect representation of why. So predictable, so obvious, all the expected tropes of generic cheap cinema scares that have no trouble selling tickets at the box office and yet they do so little to truly inspire. It Follows is different though. It Follows is special, a film released in 2015 and yet it invoked a feeling of nostalgia in me, as if it were released 30 years earlier, the type of movie I would have watched late at night with friends as a teen.

Was I scared though?

I drive home from the theater feeling buzzed, replaying my favorite scenes in my head over and over, pondering some of the subtle nuances of the movie that made It Follows a far richer cinematic experience than what was merely presented on the surface. My car comes to a stop along the way and I glance over at a man on the sidewalk, walking slowly, shrouded in darkness. The chill of the nighttime air flows through the windows and I recognize the goosebumps that covered my arms. In that moment everything was normal, yet it felt anything but.

Was I scared though?

I make the same turn into my driveway that I make every single day and my headlights make shadows dance across the neighboring homes. My heart literally skips a beat and I momentarily am engulfed with a feeling of dread as I see a man standing just off to the side. A closer look reveals there is no man there at all, but what did I see? Were my eyes merely playing a trick on me? Yeah, that's probably it. I remind myself that there is nothing to worry about, yet I have an extra bounce in my step as I head up the stairs and through my front door.

Was I scared though?

I sit here now, writing these words and I can't get the score by Disasterpeace out of my mind. So damn perfect for the material, at times it felt as if it was already iconic, like it was destined to send chills down the spines of viewers for many years to come. I can't stop thinking about the confident, stylish direction by David Robert Mitchell, especially a few specific sequences in which his camera turns slowly and with ease, at a perfect pace and rhythm to make your heart race just a few beats faster, make you wonder what will be waiting for you when it comes full circle. I can't stop thinking about the look of sheer terror in the eyes of star Maika Monroe as she saw something others could not, the way she trembled at the sight of something as seemingly innocent as an open door.

Am I scared though?

Yeah, I kinda am. 

It feels fucking great.

4.5/5

Jauja Review

As I continue to explore fascinating foreign language cinema, the types of work I used to unfortunately ignore, I have found myself constantly puzzled and being forced to sleep on a film before being able to form a coherent thought or two to start my write-up.

In other words, it has been an amazing and rewarding time for me and my understanding of the medium lately, and that continues with the gorgeous new film Jauja. The final frame left the screen and there I was, staring at a spot on the wall as I contemplated what I had just seen. A shit eating grin plastered on my face, I'm sure.

Jauja debuted last year at the Cannes Film Festival and has been seen at other fests and released in other countries since, but it is finally getting its limited release here in the United States just now. I recall catching wind of some very positive word of mouth months ago and being annoyed at just how long it would be before I could see it.

It was worth the wait.

Director of Photography Timo Salminen puts a very unique spin on this film with the way it is framed, using a 4:3 aspect ratio with rounded corners that brought a surreal feel to the entire experience, as if I was watching an old slideshow of moving photographs rather than a film. By utilizing this approach with the landscapes that make up the setting of the picture, the result is an overall haunting and spellbinding enigmatic movie that is difficult to wrap my head around.

A friend and fellow cinema enthusiastic mentioned a similarity to the Australian classic Picnic at Hanging Rock by Peter Weir, which I watched and reviewed for the first time recently, and I definitely could feel those vibes flowing through Jauja. At one point a mangy dog plays an important role as to literally what direction Gunnar (Viggo Mortensen) takes going forward and I couldn't help but notice that it looked like it had walked out of the "Zone" in the Tarkovsky masterpiece Stalker and headed straight for the desolate landscapes of Jauja. 

I have no idea what previous pictures played a role in influencing this fascinating new work from Lisandro Alonso but it's easy to tell that the lifeblood of incredible work from decades past is flowing through the veins of Jauja. Some may find the languid pacing to be more trouble than its worth, and at times during the first half of the film I will admit it felt as if very little was actually happening, but for me the methodical movements within a frame and the way shots would linger on seemingly nothing all added to the mysticism that I completely fell in love with.

It's early and literally dozens of pictures are still on their way to try and surpass it, but as of right now Jauja is my favorite film of 2015.

4.5/5

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days Review

I recently had someone tell me when referring to why he didn't like the best film of last year, Boyhood, that he didn't want anything to do with realism in movies because it wasn't entertaining to watch what surrounds him every day in life. He turns to movies for an escape, as we all do at times, so I understand and appreciate that thought process and as always, to each their own. I won't tell him what to like or why he is wrong because it is a matter of opinion and he isn't wrong for his preferences, but personally I can't wrap my mind around such an indifference to a deeper experience from art. 

If you asked me to describe the film 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, the word entertaining would not enter my mind let alone leave my lips. Devastating. Jarring. Haunting. Unsettling. Horrifying. Brutal. All of these words, sure, they would properly paint the picture that was sketched by director Cristian Mungiu, but entertaining would not. So one would assume I would not recommend the film, but I would. Oh my goodness I would. 

The craft of this picture is stunning, the realism almost too real, the pain nearly too painful. The story revolves around two women, Gabita and Otilia, the former being pregnant and seeking an abortion despite it being forbidden by the government of a communist Romania. The film takes place over the course of the day in which they make an appointment with a man to provide them such an illegal service, and what occurs during this time caused my stomach to literally churn but I couldn't look away. Many scenes are filmed with a static camera and the takes are long which allows the emotion to linger, the tensions to run high and the pain to resonate. 

Some films are suited for frenetic editing as their stories are best told with urgency, using frequent cuts and a fast pace to fry the nerves of the audience. 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is not one of those films. By keeping the camera still and focused, we are forced to face the ugliness of truth. While the story we are seeing is fictional, technically it isn't. Gabita and Otilia are just characters in a screenplay, but women just like them are forced to make such devastating and life changing decisions in reality when in the shadows of such strict, oppressive laws. The performances of Anamaria Marinca and Laura Vasiliu in the lead roles brought an authenticity to the narrative, and the result of the entire experience is an awful feeling still bubbling inside my gut yet I know I have just witnessed special cinema. 

One of my favorite aspects of this film is that despite covering such a sensitive and divisive subject like abortion, the story never preaches one way or the other. It's such a fine line to walk, making a film about a human rights issue and common political talking point without demonstrating which side of the aisle the storyteller resides on, but this is handled with beauty in 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days. All we are seeing is a truly terrible day in the life of two women, and while it is clear that having to get a serious medical procedure done by a stranger in a hotel room because it is the only option is an awful injustice against humanity, we also are forced to absorb plenty of moments that make us question if getting the abortion at all is a terrible wrong in itself. I won't get into my personal beliefs on the matter because they are irrelevant. All that matters is what this movie makes you feel during those two hours that we inhabit their world.

No, 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days isn't entertaining, and it certainly isn't an escape from the pain that comes with living in the real world. 

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is honest, important art, a film that resonates on a far deeper level than a fun escape.

4.5/5