Dir. David Cronenberg
2007
8.7
A friend of mine recently returned from several months in Russia. He explained it as one of the most harrowing and grossly depressing experiences of his life (my words here paraphrase his more articulate sentiments). It seems contemporary Russian culture is divided very strongly between the new and the aged, the young and the old, the progressive and the historical. He told me McDonald's is one of the most popular restaurants in St. Petersburg, with lines often stretching out the door. He also told me about the memorials to Stalin and Lenin and how the two respective leaders are still worshiped there. Russia is a strongly patriarchal country, and Lenin and Stalin were father figures in the league of gods. This past summer the Russian economy tanked, with the RTS index losing 80 percent of it's value in six months. My friend told me he saw 13 year old kids passed out on tables next to bottles of vodka, while their friends begged cigarettes from strangers. The desire to escape poverty will cause people to do many, sometimes seemingly unforgivable, things. David Cronenberg's most recent film Eastern Promises is about the ever shifting lines of morality in eastern, and more specifically Russian, culture. It is a film that doesn't seek to dissociate between right and wrong, but rather attempt to understand the basis for the dichotomy and what allows people to commit acts that others deem unthinkable.
In the film Russian culture is displaced from it's homeland and unearthed in London; a prosperous and diverse part of the world. The film stars Anna (Naomi Watts) as a midwife at a local hospital who, after delivering a baby for a teenage Russian immigrant who dies in childbirth, discovers a diary the leads her into a shadowy world of appearances and loyalties; crime and murder. She meets Nikolai (Viggo Mortensen), a Russian Secret Service member working in conjunction with Scotland Yard to infiltrate the Russian organized crime syndicate in London. He is posing as the driver of a young Russian pseudo-aristocrat whose father is head of the family that Nikolai seeks to disarm. The film gives an indepth and disturbing view into the mob psyche: the extent and limitations of it's cruelty and the hierarchal system of loyalty and leadership. The film has been praised by critics for being an authentic picture of the Russian criminal underworld, so I am told. This post-script is the unfortunate punchline to the truth about so many films, especially crime films. I, like most of the assumed audience of Cronenberg's film, know nothing about the Russian crime world and anything I know about the mafia in general comes from fictionalized depictions in film and television (The Sopranos, The Godfather, etc.). The fact is that, in trusting Cronenberg's reputation as an often uncomfortably accurate director, I am taking him at his word. The theory known as “suspension of disbelief” often used in conjunction with war films or films in which non-American characters speak perfect, fluent English (I'm looking at you Slumdog Millionaire) would be a bit harsh in this situation. It is not so much that, as a viewer, I simply choose to believe what is placed in front of me but that I simply believe it. Therein lies the dangerously two-sided nature of authenticity in film: that, as a director or writer, your audience believes you. The Russian crime world could not possibly be presented in a 100 minute drama without some simplification, or the narrowing of scope. In Eastern Promises Cronenberg gives enough detail to convince even the most scrutinous of casual film goers of his clear understanding of the Russian criminal world and frame of mind. At no point does the film get caught in it's own web, but instead weaves an elaborate tale of morality with excellent cinematography, precise choreography of scenes and actions, and powerful acting, avoiding the “Yeah, but wait...” moments by simply distracting the viewer away from the notion that all they are seeing is a simulated portrayal of a very real and terrifying world.
Cronenberg is not alone in this approach. In fact most films that take place in an environment foreign to the viewer utilize the same idea. A film that is too crowded with explanation or detail is a film that bores and stifles it's intended audience. Still, Eastern Promises at times presents almost too many foreign objects for the audience to cope with. Compared to his previous effort, A History of Violence, which was brutally succinct and focused, Eastern Promises occasionally seems unsure of which point it is trying to highlight: That good and evil are subjective to the person in question (killing babies is wrong, but murdering a man who insinuates another's homosexuality is not)? The cultural divide between East and West (Naomi Watts is portrayed as having pure intentions, while Mortensen's are less clear)? I'm not suggesting that you become a forensic scientist so that you can tell how bullshit CSI is (or isn't...), or that film makers should stick to making pictures that are painfully tangible and logical. I am, however, saying that appealing to an audience is a delicate balance between the foreign and the familiar, which everyone, film makers and film goers alike, should keep in mind.
Showing posts with label David Cronenberg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Cronenberg. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
A History of Violence
Dir. David Cronenberg
2005
10.0
I thought up a great drinking game tonight. You get together a couple of friends and a bottle of whatever you can steal from your parents without getting caught, pop in A History of Violence and take a shot every time Viggo Mortensen kills someone. Chances are you'll get good and drunk and have a great time doing it since, if I recall correctly, thats about 8 shots in an hour and a half. Thats essentially what A History of Violence is: condensing 40 years of film making on the part of director David Cronenberg into one near perfect piece of sickeningly excellent cinema.
A History of Violence takes a simple, systematic approach. Cronenberg is an experience filmmaker who has no need to try to impress his audience. He has the audacity to show anything (remember the diner scene? Remember what that guy's face look like after Viggo blew it in half?) but the good taste to know when to do so . His cinematography is inventive and in tune with the relative surrealism of the plot. He eschews plain, contemporary filming techniques for one's that better suit his needs. The camera floats when it could simply pan. The earlier reference to surrealism is not to say that at any point A History of Violence is unbelievable, in fact it is just the opposite. The scenario is real, tangible and terrifying. What is surreal about it is how we're never given much in the way of details, just broad strokes. Like similarly alarming Blue Velvet the horror of the narrative suspends the need for information. There is no extravagance in this film; it contains only what it needs to. Unlike the dozens of action/suspense movies that clog movie theaters each year, this one is concise and focused.
The film is equal parts suspense, horror, action and sex; also known as everything an American audience really wants to see. What differentiates A History of Violence from say Die Hard is how, despite having the word “violence” in the title, most of the movie is a build up to the excruciating act. Its like Hitchcock if Hitchcock had had nine millimeters. Rather than an orgy of guns and blood Cronenberg painstakingly extracts the humanity of his characters. He drives home our own repressed primitive desires to kick the shit out of people who make us angry or to murder those who threaten us. Main character Tom Stall (played by Viggo) embodies the modern characteristic of repression of primitive behavior. Here is a man who has come from “a history of violence” into a new life where he is simple and plain-spoken, adored by his fellow townspeople and is, in the words of Sheriff Sam Carney, “good people”. His alternate persona, “Joey”, a Philadelphian gangster with inclinations towards viciousness is intermittently referred to as a “monster” or an “animal” by his wife, Edie (Maria Bello) after Tom reluctantly reveals this former self to her. Tom knows that he cannot return to his former life of being Joey. He must make a decision in regards to how to move forward. In the end, he chooses not to destroy the violence but the history.
Violence is not a social trend. Violence is not something we're born with or born without. Violence is a habit that is acquired and nurtured by some and rejected by the rest (who still maintain a distinct curiosity about it). At the end of A History of Violence Tom returns home and rejoins his family who, despite being skeptical and visibly upset, accept him. Where other films may have dragged on after that scene in a vain effort to explain themselves, Cronenberg simply ends. I'm sure when a person sees a film rated 10.0 they're waiting for that moment when the critic (in this case a very amateur, but ambitious critic) says “this film was perfect because...”. However, the problem is that recent cinema is often inexplicably great. We don't have the luxury of retrospect to say that David Cronenberg's A History of Violence will influence this, that and those directors/actors/writers. While Cronenberg is certainly cemented as a skilled director, only time will tell how good he really is. This is true of the entire film industry and of all art in general. So, drawing up a quick summary about why this film is a magnificent, transient piece of cinema is necessarily near-impossible. But here we go: A History of Violence surprises and shocks, but also contains a deep psychological foundation. Viggo Mortensen's performance is certainly one of his finest. The simplicity of its dialog and structure is only outdone by the universality of its message. It requires multiple watchings. Its got boobs in it! Are you happy now? Seriously, if you like action cinema but desire something more than sheer spectacle, A History of Violence is your ticket to the convoluted psyche of violence in America.
2005
10.0
I thought up a great drinking game tonight. You get together a couple of friends and a bottle of whatever you can steal from your parents without getting caught, pop in A History of Violence and take a shot every time Viggo Mortensen kills someone. Chances are you'll get good and drunk and have a great time doing it since, if I recall correctly, thats about 8 shots in an hour and a half. Thats essentially what A History of Violence is: condensing 40 years of film making on the part of director David Cronenberg into one near perfect piece of sickeningly excellent cinema.
A History of Violence takes a simple, systematic approach. Cronenberg is an experience filmmaker who has no need to try to impress his audience. He has the audacity to show anything (remember the diner scene? Remember what that guy's face look like after Viggo blew it in half?) but the good taste to know when to do so . His cinematography is inventive and in tune with the relative surrealism of the plot. He eschews plain, contemporary filming techniques for one's that better suit his needs. The camera floats when it could simply pan. The earlier reference to surrealism is not to say that at any point A History of Violence is unbelievable, in fact it is just the opposite. The scenario is real, tangible and terrifying. What is surreal about it is how we're never given much in the way of details, just broad strokes. Like similarly alarming Blue Velvet the horror of the narrative suspends the need for information. There is no extravagance in this film; it contains only what it needs to. Unlike the dozens of action/suspense movies that clog movie theaters each year, this one is concise and focused.
The film is equal parts suspense, horror, action and sex; also known as everything an American audience really wants to see. What differentiates A History of Violence from say Die Hard is how, despite having the word “violence” in the title, most of the movie is a build up to the excruciating act. Its like Hitchcock if Hitchcock had had nine millimeters. Rather than an orgy of guns and blood Cronenberg painstakingly extracts the humanity of his characters. He drives home our own repressed primitive desires to kick the shit out of people who make us angry or to murder those who threaten us. Main character Tom Stall (played by Viggo) embodies the modern characteristic of repression of primitive behavior. Here is a man who has come from “a history of violence” into a new life where he is simple and plain-spoken, adored by his fellow townspeople and is, in the words of Sheriff Sam Carney, “good people”. His alternate persona, “Joey”, a Philadelphian gangster with inclinations towards viciousness is intermittently referred to as a “monster” or an “animal” by his wife, Edie (Maria Bello) after Tom reluctantly reveals this former self to her. Tom knows that he cannot return to his former life of being Joey. He must make a decision in regards to how to move forward. In the end, he chooses not to destroy the violence but the history.
Violence is not a social trend. Violence is not something we're born with or born without. Violence is a habit that is acquired and nurtured by some and rejected by the rest (who still maintain a distinct curiosity about it). At the end of A History of Violence Tom returns home and rejoins his family who, despite being skeptical and visibly upset, accept him. Where other films may have dragged on after that scene in a vain effort to explain themselves, Cronenberg simply ends. I'm sure when a person sees a film rated 10.0 they're waiting for that moment when the critic (in this case a very amateur, but ambitious critic) says “this film was perfect because...”. However, the problem is that recent cinema is often inexplicably great. We don't have the luxury of retrospect to say that David Cronenberg's A History of Violence will influence this, that and those directors/actors/writers. While Cronenberg is certainly cemented as a skilled director, only time will tell how good he really is. This is true of the entire film industry and of all art in general. So, drawing up a quick summary about why this film is a magnificent, transient piece of cinema is necessarily near-impossible. But here we go: A History of Violence surprises and shocks, but also contains a deep psychological foundation. Viggo Mortensen's performance is certainly one of his finest. The simplicity of its dialog and structure is only outdone by the universality of its message. It requires multiple watchings. Its got boobs in it! Are you happy now? Seriously, if you like action cinema but desire something more than sheer spectacle, A History of Violence is your ticket to the convoluted psyche of violence in America.
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