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Film Description
A man leaves Mexico city to end his life in remote countryside. He finds lodging with a widow in a ramshackle cottage overlooking a desolate canyon. Inspired by the breathtaking landscape, the woman's infinite humanity reawakens his dulled senses and desires. Inspired by Tarkovsky, this is a mesmerising meditation on death and rebirth.
While I recognise a lot of the elements that others have praised and also appreciate the 'Zen' qualities of certain scenes and intentions, I was left with the feeling ... more >
While I recognise a lot of the elements that others have praised and also appreciate the 'Zen' qualities of certain scenes and intentions, I was left with the feeling that I'd been had, that I'd lost a couple of hours of my life that I won't get back and a distinct sense of being presented with the Emperor's new clothes. Certain elements certainly work and the actors do a good job, but I felt they were let down by the director who has got carried away by his own cleverness and his overdoing of the references to Bresson et al. The much vaunted sex scene is frankly lame, clumsy and distasteful. The old rule of leaving such things to the imagination was never so needed as it was here. The sad thing is I could see why it was included, but the functional purpose of this coupling could have been alluded to far more effectively if it had been subtler, shorter and handled in a less exploitative way. I'm not afraid to say this in case I appear to have missed the point. I think the poi
nt was a worthwhile part of the story but was way too heavily laboured.
In essence, though not a total disaster, this film was too long. I was somewhat fascinated to watch the interview with the director afterwards, out of curiosity. It seemed to me significant that the extreme prolixity evidenced in his filmmaking was echoed in his determination to labour every point he made. The constant repetition in the interview cannot just be put down to the need of the proficient speaker of a second language to rephrase his thoughts as he works out a better way to express himself, an experience common to any casual linguist. More than that he showed that he is simply too loquacious and rather too pleased with himself. And he isn't the first lawyer I've come across (that being his declared first qualification) to be obsessed with other people's sex lives. This is not to say the place in this story of the sex act and the way it evolved was not legitimate but its effectiveness was spoiled by the voyeuristic and long drawn out quality of the detail. Thanks to
the actors' amateur honesty the point wasn't entirely lost, but the stamina needed on the part of the spectator to realise this was beyond the call of duty.
I kept watching in the hope that the film would redeem itself but now I just want my money back.
Carlos Reygadas’ directorial debut is the dictionary definition of a tough sell: it follows a suicidal artist as he heads to a remote Mexican village, shacks up with a... more >
Carlos Reygadas’ directorial debut is the dictionary definition of a tough sell: it follows a suicidal artist as he heads to a remote Mexican village, shacks up with an old woman, and makes preparations for his death. A series of plan shots map out the lead’s way through the hills, as we head into full-on art film territory: a project which seems as much of a journey for the filmmakers as it does for the character, the work of a debutant venturing into the wilds and trying to find his voice. Somewhere down the tracks, he does. The final scene triumphantly announces the arrival of a brave new talent.
Reygadas establishes a cruel world - its sunlight harsh, its language unsparing, decay everywhere – eventually leavened by signs of life and renewal. Young children start kicking footballs around, and break off to watch and laugh at the sight of animals mating; the suicidal lodger begins to show some form of kindness to the old woman sheltering him. The ambiguous title seems to offer Japan as an end of the world, but also hints at the film’s many Zen-like pleasures: watching a painter dab at his canvas, or listening to insects chirruping as the camera roves around the wilderness.
Its modernist ideals are as high as some of the peaks on show, but Japon has a genuine, sincere interest in the ways people live their lives on a minute-by-minute basis, and only the Iranian cinema has expressed this much of an interest in landscape of late. (Kiarostami’s A Taste Of Cherry, with its death-wish hero, is the obvious correlative.) Though it may initially appear a struggle to climb this particular mountain, the view from the top is certainly distinctive.
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