The Revenant is more of an experience than a movie. Movies entertain, preach, thrill, chill and sadden. The Revenant beats you into submission with its portrait of man's inhumanity to man and cold permeates every aspect of its presentation, both physically and emotionally.
Using the five most dangerous words in cinematic history, "Based on a true story...", The Revenant tells the story (sort of) of real-life early 1800's trapper Hugh Glass (in an astonishing role for Leo DiCaprio) who was mauled by a grizzly bear, left for dead by his team including John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), and walks what would appear to be thousands of miles in the Missouri wilderness to kill Fitzgerald in righteous revenge.
The movie bears little resemblance to actual events (admittedly sketchy since most of the exploits were not witnessed by anybody but in true frontier fashion, grow with each subsequent retelling. For an interesting and short article on the real events read http://www.telegraph.co.uk/film/the-revenant/leonardo-dicaprio-hugh-glass-true-story/), but this isn't a documentary. It is spectacularly, yet very depressingly told. Director Alejandro Iñárritu (last year's Oscar winner for Best Director in Birdman) is quite possibly the next Stanley Kubrick, both in his directorial prowess and black-hearted view of human nature. This movie radiates pain and cruelty in every frame. But everything is expertly depicted. From his frequent Sergio Leone-esque close ups for us to read the agony on each actor's face, to his amazingly choreographed battle scenes, to his chilling landscapes (with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezski) that create an atmosphere where I actually felt the cold in the theater, Iñárritu is finally coming into his due, despite the fact of already creating several great movies already. But he is too engaged with the craft of the making of rather than the telling of his story, which tends to make the movie drag. It brings to mind the work of Werner Herzog, another great director who is too in love with his craft and will go to any length to show it, despite the effect on a coherent storyline.
But this movie is all DiCaprio, who for some reason, a lot of people think he can't act. Ever since This Boy's Life and The Basketball Diaries, Leo has been churning out one great performance after another, many of which are unheralded. Maybe because of his movie star looks combined with a lot of jealousy, most people don't want to acknowledge how good he really is. I think he is on par with some of the greatest actors ever like DeNiro, Pacino, Brando, Penn and Stewert. Like Castaway, this is less a movie than it is an acting exercise. If DiCaprio didn't deliver, the movie falls apart like a house of cards. Everything is in his expression as he says very little through the entire film. There have been several articles published already detailing the extremes Iñárritu and DiCaprio went through to make this film that I won't repeat. Suffice to say, it is reflected on DiCaprio's face and in his performance. Some say his movie-star looks hold him back from greatness. I say this movie proves it wrong and I am pretty sure he that with this fifth Oscar nomination, he will finally win a deservedly and long-overdue statue.
The comparatively low-rating I give this film is not a reflection of its quality and craftsmanship. It is because, in the end, movies should entertain. This is craftsmanship for its own sake. A laudible goal, but in the end, the movie leaves one a bit unfulfilled. Many directors fall into this trap, chief among them Terrence Malik, who eschew audience engagement in favor of art for its own sake. They fall in love with the craft at the expense of what movies are meant to do in the first place, tell an engaging story. It is possible to marry both art and entertainment together, which is the hallmark of a great director. Chaplin, Ford, Wilder, Hitchcock, Kubrick, Coppola, Spielberg, Scorsese, Cameron, and yes, even Michael Bay have all done it, and without necessarily showing off (with the possible exception of Scorsese). If Iñárritu wants to be remembered in that company of greats instead of being relegated to that group of great directors who toil in relative obscurity except in art houses (Welles, Fellini, Buñel, Malik, Cimino, Lynch, Aronovsky, Van Sant), he needs to remember that. Making great, audience-pleasing stories does not necessarily mean sell-out.
No comments:
Post a Comment