The first was John Hillcoat's post-apocalyptic The Road. I'll start off by mentioning that Cormac McCarthy's book of the same name is one of the greatest things I've read in several years, so I was excited that it was being adapted by the helmer of disgustingly beautiful The Proposition.
I tried to love this film, but, alas, it was not meant to be.
Like the book, Hillcoat's version follows an unnamed Man, played by Viggo Mortensen, and his Son, Kodi Smit-McPhee as they try to move South through a wasteland riddled with armed cannibal gangs, earthquakes, and general hoplessness.
I wouldn't call The Road a bad film. On a technical level, I'd say it was more than good. The atmosphere is consistently dour, and it looks like a film shot by someone with masterful skill with a camera. But fails to satisfy on its narrative level. Joe Penhall's script throws the duo into conflict after conflict, but there isn't much of a build. By the end, things have happened, but no arc has really completed. I love me a good non-traditionally structured story, but this one never pulled me in.
The second problem was Kodi-Smit McPhee. I just wasn't buying it. He was annoying in a way that transcended his character.
Another aspect I didn't like is much more of a book/film comparison. The book has a single, destructively powerful scene involving the Man's wife. In the film, the wife's part is greatly elaborated on with Charlize Theron coldly portraying her, but it doesn't amount to much. We see the Man sitting and thinking, obviously longing for the past, and then we see he and the wife together. The scenes add to a bare bones story, but Viggo's pain is already all over his face. The flashbacks become a simple way to tell the audience info that isn't really important.
But whatever. Viggo's amazing. The Road wasn't a waste of time or anything.
The same cannot be said for Jim Jarmusch's latest film, The Limits of Control.
I love every Jarmusch film I've seen, which is almost all of them, the one exception being Coffee and Cigarettes, which does have a few worthwhile segments.
The Limits of Control doesn't work. Isaach de Bankhole is a mostly silent, mysterious hitman on his way to completing a job the audience knows nothing about. He travels from one location to another rendezvousing with people apparently giving him information to complete the job. All of these other people are nameless, and given to talking. A lot. They each have a one-way conversation with the hitman before giving him a box of matches. It doesn't ever break this cycle until he gets to his assignment, which is meant to be an enlightening experience for both the hitman and viewer. It gives one a better idea of whom all those people were, or what kind of people they were. But it doesn't carry any weight. And all those conversations are quite a few levels below profound, or even though-provoking. And I didn't care for the stunt-casting of a climax.
I tried to get down with what Jarmusch was throwing at me here, but I found that rather impossible to do. There are some beautifully shot locations, though.
Later tonight, I'm watching Chan-wook Park's vampire flick, Thirst. I've heard an incredible batch of mixed reactions for it, but I'm currently hoping for the best.
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