SONG TO SONG

Ryan Gosling   Rooney Mara   Michael Fassbender   Natalie Portman

 Christian Bale   Cate Blanchett   Val Kilmer   Benecio del Toro   Holly Hunter   Iggy Pop

     This is a love story about one couple, but generalizes to a broader inclusion of people in general and the natural world.  It’s an Impressionist painting, with story, song, and photography artfully expressed.  Malick has a photographer’s eye that doesn’t follow along the usual frame of plot line, but he gives us impressionistic glimpses of people’s lives and the meanings of it they construct.  Rooney Mara as Faye narrates most of the film, tracing the “dance moves” that made her life what it became.  She starts out as a receptionist for a wealthy man (Fassbender) who is a major force in people’s lives (“people change when they’re around him”, she says).  People come to him as Faye does, hoping he can help them make more of their lives.

     But the man, who is some kind of Titan in the music industry, cannot resist exerting god-like control over people he is mentoring, even while exhorting them to “be free.”   Faye ends up having an affair with him, but after a time meets another man in his orb (Gosling).  The three play, cavorting and frolicking, hoping that it will last forever.  “We thought nothing could break us apart; we made music together.”  Ah, but we are human, and thus in this story the “song to song”, “kiss to kiss” begins, and after betrayal, disappointment, and disillusionment, it finally ends in forgiveness and mercy—at least in one case, which gives us hope.

    There are contrasts drawn between the experiences of men and women, people of privilege and those less fortunate, and individuals with varying degrees of insight and introspection.  The women here seem to be more introspective and self-critical, and searching at first for someone like the wealthy man who will complete them, like Faye the narrator.  Her successor (Portman) says to the same man, “What part of me do you want?  Take what you want from me”, unaware of the bargain she made upon first meeting him when she observed, “you have everything, everything I want.”

     The men have more of a competitive relationship, and their interests are expressed in that realm, with the mentor abrasively scolding the mentee for not achieving more, and the mentee accusing the other of stealing credit for his work, which could be the undoing of their relationship.  We get few clues or evidence of introspection on their part, except for one’s toward the end.

    We get glimpses of those who have come from more modest circumstances encountering the wealth of others, and aspiring to achieve the American dream.  Some are not willing to compromise themselves; others are.  Some learn from their experience and try to change; others are oblivious.  But all experience some kind of regret over the choices they made.

     As much as Song to Song is a portrayal of life as a series of dances and songs with varying partners, it’s also a commentary on trust, fidelity, truthfulness, openness, and honesty in human relationships.  Along with the endearing playfulness (Gosling’s character takes this to the max), we’re reminded of the anguish of betrayal and the pain of separation, but as well the possibility of a “new paradise” in forgiveness.

     The four talented main actors (Gosling, Fassbender, Mara, and Portman) show their skill in responding to Malick’s rather unique direction, and impress with their delightful athletic abilities in dancing and cavorting through all the scenes showing the blooming of new love.  Blanchett’s brief scenes show her power in conveying deep emotion, and cameo appearances of Bale, Kilmer, del Toro, Hunter, Iggy Pop, and still more, provide additional entertainment and scope.  A most impressive appearance is Patti Smith, singing of her love of the photographer Robert Mapplethorpe and through it, giving sound advice to Faye.

     Malick’s teaming with his award-winning partner in cinematography, Emmanuel Lubezki, makes Song to Song a true work of art visually, dramatically, psychologically, and philosophically.

A song of love in many of its manifestations, ending on a high note.

Grade:  A                                                By Donna R. Copeland

THE REVENANT

Leonardo DiCaprio     Tom Hardy     Domhnall Gleason

          The Revenant is an apt title (for one who returns after death) because Hugh Glass (DiCaprio) gets wounds severe enough to kill him—several times.  He is mauled by a grizzly bear, is stitched up by someone whose father was a doctor, and before his wounds heal he is dragged, almost smothered to death, almost buried alive, shot at…well, you get it.  I was reminded of Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ when he pulls his heavy cross up a hill after he has been beaten so severely it’s difficult to see how he is alive, much less able to carry a cross.  When films go to this extreme, they lose me. 

       The one thing that compensates for this is the ever-stunning cinematography of Emmanuel Lubezki (Birdman, Gravity, To the Wonder, Tree of Life).  His camera revels in nature, and he enhances it with lighting, interesting contrasts and juxtapositions, and texture.  One of many examples in this film is when torches are being carried in a night scene with a red glow in the background, and stately, majestic trees towering through it all.  The trees—shown theme-like over and over—pick up on symbolic dialog spoken by Glass’s dead wife about how the branches of a tree might look like the tree is going to be felled by a strong wind, but when its roots are strong, it survives. 

        DiCaprio’s performance is a tour de force; he does not—is not able to—say much during the whole film, but is eloquent in his grunts and actions.  His eyes alone can convey the message.  The subtitle of the novel on which the film is based indicates that the story is about revenge, and the film highlights that aspect, giving it a noble connotation in that Glass has every reason to be vengeful.  And the actor is to be admired for enduring the brutal elements during the nine months of filming, which started in Canada, but was moved to Argentina when a warming trend melted the snow in Canada.

         Tom Hardy is adept in different kinds of roles, and here he plays the villain, and makes you grow to hate and disdain the character.  He is especially good at being glib but convincing when he argues about doing something that’s actually wrong.  He is one of the few actors who can keep the viewer mesmerized during a two-hour drive just talking on the phone! (in Locke). 

         I loved Innarritu’s Amores Perros, 21 Grams, Babel, and Birdman, but this film does not measure up to those accomplishments.

        My problem with The Revenant is with the script, both in its content and in its length.  Because of the illogical content, the movie is over long.  And it’s become a cliché in action movies when two adversaries both lose their weapons and then resort to hand-to-hand combat.  Ending a story like this in hand-to-hand combat with one of the players almost dead from his wounds weakens the conclusion.

The cinematography and DiCaprio’s performance are the main reasons to see The Revenant.

Grade:  B                                      By Donna R. Copeland