The Secret in their Eyes - Film Review

Toast of the Latin American film business, and profile raising winner of last year's Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, Juan Jose Campanella's taut, thoughtful thriller/drama hybrid spent much of 2010 as everyone's must see alternate cinema experience. An Argentinian story of corruption, camaraderie, revenge, retribution and unbidden love over the course of a number of years, El Secreto de Sus Ojos certainly lives up to it's billing.

We start with retired legal counselor Benjamin Esposito (Ricardo Darin) trying, and ultimately struggling, to get beyond the fifth line of his novel, having decided to use his twilight years, not to mention years of experience, more productively than codgering about. In an attempt to gain some more insight into the subject of his book, he visits his old friend and former boss Irene (Soledad Villamil), for some reminiscing and semi-research. The story of his novel will be that of an unresolved, and ultimately live affirming investigation they once participated in, dubbed the Morales case.

The film flashes back to 1974, where a younger Esposito and his trusty righthand and general eccentric Pablo Sandoval (Guillermo Francella) are introduced to their new superior, Irene, fresh out of a pricy education at Cornell. Their office is assigned the case concerning the rape and murder of a young woman, Liliana Coloto (Carla Quevedo) in her Buenos Aires home. In the course of the investigation, Esposito speaks with her newly wed husband, Ricardo Morales (Pablo Rago), whom he promises swift justice. For reasons he cannot quite fathom, Esposito develops an emotional attachment to the case. After overcoming the attempts of rival counsel Romano (Mariano Argento) to crack their case by ordering the beating induced confession of two lowly builders, Esposito finds a break through in one of Liliana's old photo albums, a childhood friend of the victim who eyes her suspiciously in all of the pictures he features in. The man is named Isidoro Gomez (Javier Godino).

With the police unwilling to take firm action on such wobbly evidence, Esposito is forced to take his own measures to find proof. Their problems are exacerbated by the actions of Morales, who in a peak of emotional trauma, phones Gomez's mother asking for his location, in turn tipping off the suspect who promptly disappears. He reels in Sandoval, who's increasing alcohol problems cause concern, to help him, and together they break into the mother's house, looking for evidence of Gomez's new address. They are ultimately caught out, and are rebuked by their Judge, Ordonez (Rudy Romano), who punishes them by closing the case.

A year later, the case still on Eposito's mind, he runs into Morales by coincidence at a train station. After sitting down to talk, he discovers that Morales has, every day, been coming to the terminal and held surveillance watching the crowds, hopeful that one day he will sight Gomez and gain the justice and redemption he was once promised. Overwhelmed by this encounter, Eposito successfuly convinces Irene to reopen the case, at the risk of being tied up in red tape, and they restart their quest. When Sandoval discovers a clue in one of Gomez's letters they stole, it sparks off a new avenue of investigation, leading them down a disturbing, dangerous and ultimately fatal path that changes the lives of all concerned.

What could so easily have been a routine, unsatisfying thriller is given a densely layered, satisfyingly complex presentation here by Campanella and his fellow writers, in a film that is ironically novel like with it's various subplots, subtexts and agendas. One part procedural drama, with a fine eye for small details and the hardened disheartening nature of wrong turns in the case, it also serves as a personal story, with numerous other themes prominent, giving the piece emotional poignancy. Each of the characters are fleshed out supremely, giving them tells, turns and moments to shine, while the film takes on political edges also. Numerous parts of the plot, in particular the participation of the sleazy Romano, serve as a searing indicment of 1970's Argentina under Videla's dicatorship, and in particular the ramifications of the 'Dirty War' raged against the country's left wing.

The other particularly impressive and ultimately memorable part of the film's mosaic is the platonic love affair between the pent up Esposito and the unavailable Irene, an enduring saga that would be relegated to neglected sub-plot in most Hollywood-type disposable crime stories. Although the story may not be deeply original, it's portrayal here is highly refreshing and is rewarded with a satisfying, if amiguous, conclusion. Much is left unsaid, projected by lingering looks, unfinished sentences and misunderstandings, rather than by monologues and exposition heavy speeches.

The character driven nature of the film also gives it much pathos. Esposito and Irene may be given fully formed arcs, but attention is also paid to the seemingly smaller parts of Sandoval and Morales, both of whom have tragic and heartbreaking stories to tell, each sharing personal moments that bring a tear to the eye. Revelations, particularly in the final third, are both shocking and thought-provoking, a very personal attachment from the viewer to the characters manifesting itself at the sharp end. That such a story is levened by some genuinely amusing humour, such as the background journey of a malfunctioning typewriter, and Sandoval's inspired method of screening his office calls, gives the piece a more human, highly appreciated touch.

Ricardo Darin, bearded Alan Rickman-lookalike extraordinare, gives a highly dignified, deeply layered portrayal as the protagonist Esposito, a lifelike conundrum of a man. Although rash, and taken to following instincts in his work, he refuses to do so in his personal life, the genuine minefield that shrouds his dangerous job into insignificance until the Morales case. As we learn more of his character, we understand more about his story. His novel, seemingly an attempt to stave off boredom, is in fact a reactionary impulse at the dissatisfaction his life has produced in it's later years. Similarly, Soledad Villamil brings a complexity to her role, as well as a genuine charm that makes her attractiveness undoubted, making Irene both realistic and hugely likeable. The two share a palpable chemistry, essential in leading the story.

While a troup of bit part players excel in creating background, the supporting artists really do thrive on their subplots. Guillermo Francella provides a sadness to Sandoval, making him more than a loveable caricature, sympathetic but flawed, funny but ripe for pity. Javier Godino, as the principal villain, is genuinely menacing in some places, detestable in others and downright pathetic at times, a very human angle on, again, a part that could have slipt into cardboard cut out scumbag for hire. And special praise is also deserved for Pablo Rago, rich with pathos in his protrayal of the emotional haywire that is Morales, a man left without his life and desperately seeking a purpose. His arc asks serious moralistic questions over the nature of justice, and how it should be applied. If anyone is to be allowed retribution, it is surely him.

Amazingly, the film also balances it's rich drama with genuine thrills, with a number of standout scenes cementing the director's abilities to harness suspense and action. A stunning single take chase during a football game, taking in aerial shot's of the ground, sifting through the crowd, and the unpredictable pursuit within the belly of the stadium, is both massively ambitious and completly taut, an incredible feat of filmaking. On the other end of the spectrum is the now famed elevator scene, a terrifying and unbearably tense wordless exchange that lasts less than a minute, yet somehow emerges as a classic cinema moment. That such virtuoso moments both serve as adverts for the film, and also prove hugely pivotal to the plot and characters, is nothing short of miraculous.

It's easy to get carried away, and ultimately spoiled, by hype, but for once The Secret in Their Eyes both justifies it's reputation and proves a genuine surprise, a carefuly constructed piece that has an almost harmonic balance of everything you could want from a film, and more so.

9/10

The Fountain - Film Review

One of many a famous filmmaker's back catalogue ignored, even shunned at the time, yet revisted in retrospect once said auteur is a big hit, The Fountain is a film on a Terrence Malick scale of philosophical musing, yet remains one of the most disputed, baffling pieces of all time, without agenda or lean. It is a great shame, or travesty depending on your view, that such a piece is still overlooked, unknown or dismissed by so many as a result.

The plot itself is labyrinth, difficult to establish but fairly simple to summarise in basic form, So I'll keep this brief. We have three co-currently running strands:

In the 2000's, Medical Scientist Tommy (Hugh Jackman) is researching the effects of various earthly cocktails on primates in order to find a cure for his wife Izzi's (Rachel Weisz) brain tumour. While Tommy finds himself neglecting Izzi, choosing to spend his hours immersed in his laboratory with his team (which includes Sean Patrick Thomas, Ethan Suplee and close friend Ellen Burstyn), Izzi works on her book, titularly named The Fountain, which proves to be a catalyst for the film itself. Her continued research into Mayan folklore and biblical legends of living forever leads her on a path towards acceptance, with her fear of death evaporating as the inevitable approaches. Tommy, on the other hand, is infuriated by this, unable to grasp the concept of surrendering to the illness. This anxiety is heightened when a compound found within a tree in Guatemala causes unprescedented synapse expansion in one of the monkeys, a potential promise of hope.

In the 1500's, the Spanish Inquisition is closing it's noose on the country, putting it's Queen, Isabella (Weisz) at great risk from the Grand Inquisitor (Stephen McHattie), due to her supposedly heretical beliefs. In an attempt to save her kingdom, she tasks loyal Conquistador Tomas (Jackman) with the mission of travelling to New Spain to find the tree, aided by his right hand man Ariel (Cliff Curtis) and Vatican Priest Avila (Mark Margolis), who believes he has found evidence of the wonder within a hidden temple. The reward for it's capture is Isabella's love, and the promise that they will live forever, together. The crusade fails to yield results, leading to a mutiny among the exhibition, before Avila finally discovers it's location, in turn pitting Tomas into a deadly confrontation with the High Priest defending the holyist of prizes.

In the 2500's, hairless, evolved human 'Tom' (Jackman) is travelling the cosmos within an eco-sphere style bubble, supporting himself and a tree, which it transpires carries the soul of Izzie. His goal is to reach the dying star Xibalba, a nebula which legend decrees as being the location for the rebirth of dead souls. While meditating in mid air, and eating bark from the tree to substain himself, he is plagued by memories of his lost love, while forcing himself into making elaborate tattoos, markers and mementos to maintain the passion of his lonely vigil.

When Izzi's condition begins to worsen, she asks Tommy to finish her book, writing the final chapter that wraps up the story. This proves the catalyst for the climax, as the relevance and intermingling storylines come together as one in a psychedelic, earth shattering display of altered, expanded consciousness and Buddhist-like morality teachings. Only when the trio of searchers have their crusades ended, and the final credits begin to roll, is that much sought peace found.

It is very important to note that anyone going into The Fountain for the first time should not approach it literally, as a plot based film with logical conclusions and an iron-set ethos regarding rules and limitations. Although there are explanations that tie up every moment and event within the film, they are elusive at best. Aronofsky himself has described it as a rubix cube as far as this is concerned. Expecting linear solutions will merely rob you of what the film is actually trying, and succeeding wonderfully, to do.

Although there are various ways to interpret the story, ultimately it is all about love. Although this sentence could be described as soppy and sentimental by cynical film goers, left weary of the subject by countless Hollywood dross and misinformation, it's expression here is one of purity. While Tomas/Tommy/Tom all have missions rooted in their own realities, with various circumstances and problems to overcome, they all are attempting to reach the end of the respective roads for the same reason: to be with Izzi forever. As much as the mythology and fantasy sets down the significance of eternal life, it is played here as a method to display a form of romanticism which has never been better projected on screen. Not focussed on greed or a lust for power such a gift would provided, the trio long for a life of pure happiness, their other half at their sides, without ever having to face the notion of losing her.

In this sense, it is the most romantic film ever made. There are no insults made to the audience's intelligence, far from it. We don't see the relationships build up from the ground up, which displays an understanding of the subjective and variable nature of such a meaningful experience. Instead it is simply made clear that this is true love, and this is then used to dictate the actions of the characters. Such is the force of this message that the film breaks down it's own boundaries, shatters time-old story telling conventions, and dips heavily into fantasy and sci-fi to make it's point. Once again, a form of purity in art rarely transplanted to the world of fiction, despite it's huge potential for telling such a tale.

The final revelation, in fact, is more of a poetic rumination and indictment of the blood letting passion of humanity that sees it fail to grasp, ironically, it's own limitations. The long winded, painful odysseys ultimately reveal that the right course of action was at your doorstep all along, and that the moments spent with the person you have found are always the true gifts. Ultimately, the entire film is an incredible, moving and awestruck visual metaphor for a simple idea hard to express by conventional means.

It helps, of course, when all the core elements fall together perfectly. Aronofsky displays the sort of visual flair, attention to the smallest detail and the passion for his projects which has made him such a sought after director. The film is layered with images, throwaway lines and techniques which create both an aptmosphere of utter uniquiness, a direct series of bridges throughout the thousand year span and make the piece a hybrid of painting, poem and philosophy. The exhillirating, tear enducing finale is handled supremely, a complex puzzle on screen that makes it's relevance clear in front of your eyes. You may not catch all the information presented, but without doubt you'll find the important stuff.

Hugh Jackman, entrusted with three very different sides to the same archetype, gives his greatest performance to date, displaying the same showman charm he has always possessed, but also feeding in a genuine emotional spectrum which never once fails to hit it's mark. His pain, elation, relief, fury and delirium are expressed wonderfully, creating an empathy which borders on dangerously strong emotional attachment.
In tandem, Rachel Weisz is sublime as Izzi, showing subtlety in her performance, with conflicted emotions and a clear, bitten down desire at odds with her lover's. While the hero is running himself into the ground looking for a miracle, one look at Izzi's face can tell you what she really wants, and the pain she feels when he leaves her side to continue his efforts. She knows she's dying, that there is no getting away from it, and all she wants is to spend her final moments with the man she loves equally as much as he loves her. None of this is said, an incredible part of the puzzle and canvas expressed by body language and her eyes. So rare is it for a film to take such a risk with one of it's core emotional elements.

The script, minimalistic when minimalism is required for the greater impact, and reaching levels of operatic crescendo when majestic light and sound elates the audience, achieves so much with what it doesn't do, and then soulfully rewards with what it does. So densely layered and nuanced that it initally appears unfathonable and unbreakable as a cypher, it ultimately is an incredible means to an end, fearing nothing in reaching it's conclusion, the moral of the story.

Visually, the film is a stunning achievement, with unconventional cinematography spellbinding, recurring shots bold and enlightening. And Clint Mansell's score, a stirring hybrid of sombre, captivating ballads and rip roaring orchestra pieces, is a work of art in itself. It's one of, if not the, finest film scores of this century, adding another element to the film rather that serving as window dressing to entertaining when the going's slow.

While The Fountain may confuse, it also proves to be a unique, thickly plotted tale of the purest, most understandable part of the human condition, using the stage pieces as tools to make it's point clear, even to those who may not understand what they have seen. Hard as it may be to fathom, it is one of the most unique films ever made, one of the most spellbinding, and ultimately one of the most unforgetable. For a film to get a pefect score, it must hit every conventional mark without flaw, and then add something else, an indefinable quality that makes it stand out from all others, head and shoulders above the great. In this respect, The Fountain achieves. A masterpiece.


10/10

Source Code - Film Review

The second film from acclaimed director and Bowie's son Duncan Jones, and boasting a script from Ben Ripley that could be seen as a high tech hybrid of 12 Monkeys and Groundhog Day, Source Code was one of this year's blockbuster releases that, for all intensive purposes, refuses to park itself in the money making shed.

Captain Colter Stevens (Jake Gyllenhaal), a helicopter pilot for the US Military, awakens to find himself on a train sat across from a young woman, Cristina (Michelle Monaghan), who appears to know him. He has no idea where is, or how he got there. Worse still, he is is apparently in the skin of someone else, and nobody seems to understand his confusion and panic. Then after eight minutes, the train explodes.

Stevens wakes up in a chopper ejection canopy, encased in some sort of evac capsule, receiving orders via video link from mysterious army officer Goodwin (Vera Farmiga). His huge list of questions are swatted aside, with Goodwin more interested in the details of the blast. Having established that his task is to find the bomb, Stevens is sent in again. The same eight minutes, the same explosion, another reset. Through multiple exhausting attempts, Stevens slowly starts to glean more information about the bombing, discovering the location of the device, developing suspicions and eliminating suspects within the ill-fated carriage. However, his desperation to understand his bizzare, unreal mission grows. The recurring appearances of a suit wearing man (Jeffrey Wright) who would appear to be in charge, heighten his concerns.

Eventually Stevens learns that he is not simply being put through a simulation, he is re-experiencing the final memories of one of the bomb's very real victims through a miraculous piece of technology, and general deus ex machina, known as the source code. The realisation that he cannot prevent the loss of all those on board, in particular Cristina who he is becoming growingly enamoured to, is offset when more home truths lead him to question his own existence in the scheme of things, leading to a better understanding of how the machine can work. Already beset by threats on all sides, there is also an added element of time: the bomber will strike again unless Stevens can work out his identity.

Break neck paced by it's nature, due to the thriller aspect and short running time, Source Code faces down and squashes the potential problem of limited possibilities posed by it's plot design. After all, it's the same train carriage and series of events over and over, each time with only eight minutes in which to get things done. True to it's material, we see a coffee spilt on Stevens' shoe on each attempt, the mid-conversation entrance remains consistent, and the behaviour and travel habits of those around remains. Only Stevens effects these things, adding an oddly exciting element of interruption with every move he takes, like jumping into the film yourself.

And, not suprisingly, one of the greatest thrills throughout the story comes from joining Stevens' investigation, picking out those around him as favourites to be the villain, making theories in your head which will later be dashed. It's not just the story that does this, but the direction of Jones, who once again proves his supreme abilities at characterisation after his sensational debut Moon. In the hands of a lesser, more glitzy, gross chasing director in the Michael Bay or McG mould, a well thought out character piece could have become a mind-numbing big bang, small credibility action fiasco on wheels.

It helps, of course, casting creditable actors in the roles. Skipping action men of the genre, instead picked is Jake Gyllenhaal, building in confidence with every role he takes on. His portrayal of Stevens is both authentic, never once is it questionable he's a military man, but also deeply sympathetic. He is the perfect stranded hero for this, displaying plenty of nous, but able to express a great deal of likeability and vulnerability with little visible effort or attempts at face putty projection. It takes little time for you to root for Stevens both inside and outside of the source code, as he faces very different battles on either sides of his reality. The revelation of his existence on the exterior is devastating, giving the remainder of the film an almost tragic, deeply sombre and emotional significance.

He's not alone in this. Michelle Monaghan, an actress who occasionally seems out of place in her films (Gone Baby Gone immediately springs to mind) brings a genuinely rounded portrayal as Cristina, a slightly lost young woman high on charm, wit and warmth who becomes one of Stevens' main motivations in his efforts to break history. Her actions are never out of character, even in such a high concept, highly active piece. Vera Farmiga, seemingly finding the big roles coming later in her career then they should have been, has an equally level and consistent quality as Goodwin, walking the tight rope between hard nosed professional officer and real human being with distinction. Although she slowly grows to care about Stevens, and feel sorry for his plight, it is not an emotional weakness. It's the view of anybody watching the film. Jeffrey Wright chews the scenery slightly, but it's a pleasingly off-beat performance that is quite neccessary if a little hard to swallow initially.

The two main problems that Source Code suffers, ironically, involve time, albeit in different contexts. At a threadbare hour and a half, it undoubtedly completes it's own objectives, and does enough on the side to make it more than standard sci-fi action fare, but such is the intelligence of the writing, direction and performances that it makes you long for more. Imagining the same film, only padded out with more character moments, avenues of investigation and perhaps even a couple of twists and turns thrown in, is frankly mouth watering. Little does a film cry out for a Director's Cut in quite this way. The second, egg shells springing to mind, comes from the finale. Without wishing to spoil anything for the viewer, the film makes the mistake of carrying on for a few extra minutes and creating a scientific headache once the natural conclusion has been reached, pushing the film down a mark for me and really bringing attention to the frankly unfeasible plot device of it's own surroundings. In other words, it very nearly gets away with it, then speaks in English to the German guard right at the end (Great Escape analogies notwithstanding).

A high octane, thrilling ride with the sort of intelligent presentation that most summer action fodder would die for, Source Code proves a film far better than it should be, a high credit for Duncan Jones and his cast. A few flaws aside, a deeply thoughtful but exciting and for the most part satisfying piece that is about far more than just about a bomb on a train or a magic machine.


8/10