Movie Review of Hereafter Movie

Film: ‘Hereafter’;

Director: Clint Eastwood;

Actors: Matt Damon, Frankie McLaren, George McLaren, Cecile De France; Rating: ***

Clint Eastwood has made a name for himself with his lilting, little gems. He has become an auteur in Hollywood with his own style and pace of filmmaking. Sadly in ‘Hereafter’, he lapses in his own technique, making it a much lesser film than what it could have been.

It traces the near-death experiences of individuals scattered across the world.

A French journalist dies in the tsunami of 2004 for a few minutes and has a brief experience of the afterlife, only to come back to life. The experience changes her life drastically, leading her to search the afterlife, while unsuccessfully trying to keep the life she knows intact.

A man in America, after a near death experience in his childhood, can connect with people in the afterlife, but it interferes with his relationships and he wants nothing of it despite the insistence of his brother.

A young kid in London is trying to cope with the death of his twin brother, and wants to contact him. The three lives connect in interesting ways that will change the course of each.

The intention of Eastwood in this film is noble. Sadly his craft, at least in this film, does not match up to this intention. In interesting ways, Eastwood shows how humans are connected through death.

Thus in the Indonesian lives wrecked by the tsunami, the black poor woman in America who’s lost a child, or the band of Sikh people mourning a death in the background of the death of the young boy’s twin brother, he attempts unifying humanity and bring the thought of afterlife, or after-death — something that all of us have thought of some time or the other.

He also presents the unity of many near-death experiences, of seeing beautiful white light after death and weightlessness and timelessness.

In parts, he gets didactic with it, despite an attempted restraint. It could, however, have been done with better story-telling craft and quickening of pace by better editing.

Also, in weaving together different stories in the film that necessitates pausing one to jump to another that is not yet interconnected, there is no time or emotion left for the audience to connect well and empathise better with each character.

This weakens the emotional appeal of a film that tries telling the story of something we all think about sometime or the other.

IANS

The King's Speech | Movie Review

Story: When Prince Albert (Colin Firth) was called upon to lead the British Empire which comprised almost a quarter of the world in the 1930s, he was unsure whether he could be able to play his role as King George VI. This was primarily due to his awkward stammer which prevented him from delivering the public speeches which were required of him in the changing world order.

Movie Review: The King's Speech deserves all the accolades it won at the Oscars. First, because it is a highly motivational tale of failure and achievement and the singular ability of man to overcome all his limitations with courage and grit. The journey of Prince Albert from a low-on-confidence, self-censorious and stammering B-B-Bertie to King George VI, a leader of the largest nation, is essentially a universal story of struggle and success. It holds many an aspirational lesson for any and everybody who wants to bridge the gap between Being and Nothingness. The King's relentless efforts to conquer his disability and his therapist's consistent motivation are the stuff great endeavours are made of.

But more than the message and the moral of this period fable, it is the performances that make it such an enthralling watch. Colin Firth's rendition of the King who was called upon to script history -- he declared war against Hitler -- is truly monumental. Firth's monarch may have greatness thrust upon him, but he is terribly human: full of frailties, insufficiencies and doubts. England believes I can speak for it, but I have no speech, he poignantly declares, desperately trying to master his stammer. More importantly, he flits between arrogance, rage, insecurity and sensitivity with great finesse and emerges as a warm husband, father, friend and leader. And yes, the all Brit monarch does use the F-word too. As therapy!

Standing up to him is Geoffrey Rush as the failed Australian actor who tries to use his talent as a speech therapist, even as he hopes for a comeback on stage. Geoffrey's Lionel is absolutely endearing, both as a brusque, no-nonsense `doctor' who believes in a democratic relationship with his patients (so what if they are royalty) and as a reliable friend who is for keeps. And between them, the two actors create some magical moments on screen as they share their highs and lows. Equally enticing is Helena Bonham Carter's delineation of the loving wife who stands by her husband, come what may.

The King's Speech may be a historical film, but for cine-buffs hungry for refined cinema, this one may go down as celluloid history: an uplifting document on the human spirit.

Film: “Black Swan”; 

Cast: Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder; 

Director: Darren Aronofsky; 

Rating: **** – a dark perfection.

 

Though weakness, fragility and ugliness are frowned upon, these are the elixir of life. For there could be no conception of strength or beauty without it. And it is the conception of these opposites — black and white, beauty and ugliness, good and evil, woman and her doppelganger that auteur Darren Aronofsky explores in “Black Swan”, beginning with the two words of the film’s name that stand for opposites.

Nina (Nataile Portman), a ballerina, is desperate for the part of the swan queen in the ballet Swan Lake. The director, though impressed with her discipline, does not think she has it in her to play the swan queen’s evil twin, black swan. And she indeed gets too easily intimidated by everyone. However, gradually she observes changes in herself.

After a rash incident makes her director choose her, her dark side takes over gradually and through schizophrenic hallucinations, she not only plays the black swan, but becomes it in her mind and achieves perfection.

While casting Nina, the director tells Nina: “What is the use of all that discipline. Let go. Transcend. Surprise yourself”. That is what Aronofsky, an extremely disciplined filmmaker, seems to be telling himself.

After he hangs Mickey Rourke mid-air in the last shot of his last film “The Wrestler”, here he lets his ballerina take her leap of faith and follows his camera to her fall to ecstasy. Taking a leap with Rourke in the last film and Portman in this, Aronofsky does reach his own perfection.

Aronofsky’s skills are evident in the way he tells the story; a good part of it through mere reflection. Nina sees her dark reflection on the glass of a suburban train. Later, when she sees Beth, who she has replaced, for the first time after her accident, she sees her as a reflection on a glass pane of a door. Both these reflection foreshadow her future.

Unlike “The Fountain”, where he traverses the universe, here he confines himself to the immediate space of his ballerina. As her split personality and schizophrenic hallucinations become more pronounced, the camera composes her tightly as the spaces keep getting more and more constricted, till the end where she flies away.

It is the nature of things that opposite enhances. White looks whiter near black, beauty shines more in the presence of ugliness, strength soars in front of weakness. And that is the intention of “Black Swan”, to enhance white, beauty and strength, by highlighting the opposite, but showing the protagonist reach these using the opposite.

Natalie Portman, who won an Oscar for this role, drowns herself in this dark tale of an obsessed ballerina. She’s fragile and evil in equal and delicate measure, a quality without which the film would not have worked. And with over a century-old composer in Tchaikovsky, whose compositions embody opposites, the film does manage to achieve its own cinematic perfection.