The Revenant

TheRevenantPosterGeorge Miller made a movie this year that is little but a chase scene, with themes of survival, revenge and a showcase for hyper violence and cinematic spectacle. The film has virtually no story, but the nature of its editing and its use of color, movement and staging made it an exhilarating experience, brutal and devastating but also cathartic and purely entertaining.

Alejandro G. Inarritu’s “The Revenant” is a similar revenge fantasy, stripped to its bones in all its animalistic nature and fury, but Emmanuel Lubezki’s cinematography blunts the impact. The Malick-esque way that Lubezki plays with the elements to create something spectral and naturalistic give “The Revenant” an overstated sense of importance, and watching it is hardly entertaining but dreary, disgusting and devoid of purpose.

Set in early frontier America, Leonardo DiCaprio plays Hugh Glass, a navigator part of a hunting party gathering pelts. Natives ambush the entire squadron and reduce the team from 45 people to just 10. The scene is ravishing, but immediately numbing. Arrows fly in and impale the Americans from beyond the frame, creating a sense early on that danger is not imminent but seemingly omnipresent. The mise-en-scene is cold and silvery and makes a stark backdrop for fiery streaks of arrows flying through the sky.

Lubezki has the camera dive underneath the water to witness one man being strangled to death, and we realize that despite the camera’s pivots and surveying, it’s more of a godly spectator rather than a human eye. The camera here is far less a gimmick than in Inarritu’s “Birdman,” and the way the camera is freed from a fixed axis is not unlike how Lubezki’s cinematography floated and tumbled in “Gravity.” But seeing it in this way isn’t visceral but bleak, violent, bloody and full of agony.

Glass escapes the natives only to be attacked by a bear. This scene too is an endless, torturous and dispassionate sight done in a single, unbroken shot. The bear claws and stomps on his back and whips him like a doll. It exists seemingly out of time and even ends on something of a grim punch line, a final knife in the back as Glass tumbles down a hill only for the slain bear to roll on top of him.

Miraculously, Glass survives, but just barely. Captain Andrew Henry (Domhnall Gleeson) demands the remaining troop care for him and keep him alive as long as possible. When they’re unable to transport the wounded Glass further, Henry assigns John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy) to tend to Glass and Glass’s half-breed son Hawk (Forrest Goodluck) until Glass dies. Instead, Fitzgerald kills Hawk and leaves Glass for dead. “The Revenant” starts as Glass’s fight for survival against nature, a cold look at how the world is vengeful and how the wilderness governs all. But it eventually morphs into a more simplistic revenge fantasy, Glass’s quest to return from the dead and kill the man who murdered his son.

We see flashes of Glass’s past, of his native bride being slaughtered and skulls being stacked high in a mountain. Except Glass’s remaining existence is no less bleak, and his past plays as a morbid form of adding insult to injury. He survives by eating hunks of bloody, raw buffalo meat and by cutting open the guts of a horse and crawling inside its open cavity for warmth. The film’s gore is disturbing, but the subject matter itself is not the problem. “Mad Max: Fury Road” was no less shocking, and even “Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back” involves Luke killing an animal for warmth on the ice planet Hoth.

The difference is how Inarritu lingers on the gruesomeness and screams each shot’s importance, not for their ingenuity but their stark reality. The score pounds with thundering drums that signal each moment’s weight, and the way “The Revenant” evokes God as a theme continually burdens us with the idea that this is Glass against the world.

DiCaprio is a victim of the film’s agony, grunting and moaning his way through the entire film and crawling on the cold ground for much of it. There’s only so much of an actual performance here. Tom Hardy is more effective as the dissenting and ruthless Fitzgerald, complete with a thick, broken Americana accent and wide eyes that show his madness.

While Lubezki remains the more interesting entry point to “The Revenant,” the blame for the movie’s depressing and exhausting slog rests on Inarritu’s shoulders. Like how the film treats Glass, he does all he can to drag us through hell but little catharsis or solace to bring us back.

1 ½ stars

Side by Side: Birdman and Whiplash

“Birdman” and “Whiplash” are both technically impressive films about characters looking to feel they exist

All throughout cinema history we see protagonists who wish to be remembered, who wish to become something great. Marlon Brando said in “On the Waterfront”, “I coulda been somebody. I coulda been a contender!” Their means for greatness are always different, but their ends are never the same, and it lets us know just what kind of movie we’re watching.

Two films released this month that are both receiving Oscar buzz but are miles apart in terms of tone and style have protagonists who share these feelings of greatness in their own ways and to their own ends. “Birdman Or (the Unexpected Virtues of Ignorance” and “Whiplash” are fiery dramas that lead to realizations that some of the things in life that feel most real and make people feel most alive, are pain and death. Continue reading “Side by Side: Birdman and Whiplash”

Side by Side: Amores Perros and Y Tu Mama Tambien

“Y Tu Mama Tambien” and “Amores Perros” are both early 2000s Mexican films, but they have more differences than they’d appear on paper.

At the dawn of the 21st Century, two directors emerged out of Mexico City with gruff, intimate films in their native tongue, but each with sprawling stories, symbolism and philosophies.

The first, Alejandro Gonzales Inarritu, made his debut film “Amores Perros” and has since moved on to Oscar bait with his films “Babel” and “Biutiful.” Critics have noted that his films have gotten grimmer, darker and more depressing as he’s grown as a filmmaker, but his next film, 2014’s “Birdman,” will be an American comedy.

The second, Alfonso Cuaron, had already been established with big budget titles, but returned to Mexico for the frankly sexual “Y Tu Mama Tambien,” a road-trip, coming of age story that could’ve never been made in Hollywood. Cuaron has now entered into the upper crust of blockbuster filmmakers with arguably the best Harry Potter movie “The Prisoner of Azkaban,” “Children of Men” and his upcoming space epic “Gravity.”

On paper, the two films are strikingly similar, a good starting point for Mexican cinema in the 2000s. In fact, both launched the career of actor Gael Garcia Bernal. But which is really the more depressing or the tougher sit? Neither film can be easily classified into the indie, foreign art film genre so easily, and although each is a striking example of how each filmmaker would grow and develop, neither can be so easily pigeonholed as equal entries into their broader, on-paper filmographies.

“Amores Perros” and “Y Tu Mama Tambien” may sound so similar because on a fundamental level, they’re both love stories. In tragic ways, they depict nuance, naiveté, betrayal and heartbreak.

“Y Tu Mama Tambien” especially is anchored on these themes. The first scene is an intensely passionate love scene between Tenoch (Diego Luna) and his girlfriend, in which he stops her and makes her promise she won’t cheat. Cross that with the frankly hilarious sex scene in which Julio (Bernal) and his girlfriend have sex while her parents wait for them to leave just downstairs. In each instance, sex is built on mistrust, a bad omen for any road trip. Continue reading “Side by Side: Amores Perros and Y Tu Mama Tambien”