date watched: June 23, 2009
location: Cinecity, Apgujung, Seoul
It's been a while.
Unfortunately, my comments for this movie will neither be enthusiastic nor rancorous, which will not make for the most interesting post. But it's short.
At first, it was fun to guess the brothers' mischief, whether this play was a con or not. However, by a certain point, it became TOO involved with the mind-playing that it overdid itself. It's truly exhausting, especially when there are already so many aspects that require your attention in a motion picture.
I applaud Rinko Kikuchi's performance, however. She said all but three words, two of them being "fuck me." I'm sure it's far more challenging trying to convey everything in gestures and facial expressions alone. Kudos, Rinko.
But to give the director a little more credit (he also wrote the screenplay), it seems to be a commentary on filmmaking itself. It's difficult to discern film and reality at times, and we are prone to believe that we too, have our lines and actions written for us. Once Steven (Mark Ruffalo) leaves his life as "unwritten," his little brother, Bloom (Adrian Brody), crumbles. The only way to live a life of reality means to destroy the writer and creator altogether--as shown in Steven's final sacrifice--but do so in the vein of play-acting, until the very end. Steven shows us that the final act is death itself, which plays out without the audience (he lovingly tells Bloom, "you're the only audience I needed."); and after death, there are no encores.
Your last paragraph is quite confusing.
ReplyDeleteIf the examples you provide about discerning the "life of reality" is supposed to parallel discerning of film (assuming this is indeed what you mean--maybe it is I who misunderstood you), do you mean to say that the only way that we can understand film is if we "destroy the writer and creator altogether?"
It isn't clear to me what you think the director is trying to say about filmmaking.