Children of Men (& others)

Alfonso Cuaron is among the best of younger directors in the world, and his latest is a visually intense dystopian speculation that imagines a dismal future emerging from the events of today. The projections from contemporary issues of immigration and insurgency are frightfully convincing. The fallen world of Britain twenty years on, last bastion in a world wracked by terror and disease, is densely imagined and brilliantly sketched in the first half of the film, before the blockbuster machinations kick in. The five credited screenwriters are a dead giveaway, and this on top of the original novel by P.D. James; they each seem to contribute a standard Hollywood trope with a twist -- chase, crash, assault, fem-in-jeop, nativity! -- so that the story falls apart if you think about it for a moment. But of course you don’t have a moment to think, as the plot goes hurtling on. Cuaron certainly deserves honors for his editing, and credit for two of most impactful explosions seen on film since Saving Private Ryan -- this is not a guy who blows things up just for the fun of it. But top honors have to go to cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki -- paired with his uncanny work in The New World, you must admire his ability to capture the look and feel of any period from 1607 to 2027. The actors are no slouches either -- it may be Clive Owen’s best role since Croupier, Julianne Moore and Michael Caine make the most of limited screen time, and newcomer Claire-Hope Ashitey is effective as the ’fugee “Virgin” Kee, carrying the first child in a world where all humanity has been infertile for nearly two decades. This is a film that aspires to be something more than entertainment, but entertainment imperatives undermine it in the end. (2006, Triplex, n.) *8-* (MC-84.)

No entertainment imperatives intrude on Carl Dreyer. I’ve been viewing or reviewing the work of the famously severe Danish master (if for no other reason than the Critierion Collection set of DVDs sitting on library shelves as I browsed), so you can look forward to a career summary in this space soon. So far, I’ve watched Ordet and Day of Wrath, next up are Vampyr and Gertrude, and of course The Passion of Joan of Arc is always worth another look. Will say more later.

I won’t say more than the titles of the films I’ve been watching to to fill the final slot in my “Documenting Artists: Portraits in Film” series coming up at the Clark in June. I will simply list them in my order of preference, from inspiring to routine. The first title made the cut and I will write it up in upcoming program notes; the rest were all interesting in so far as you are interested in the artist going in (and all are available from Netflix), but only the Frida Kahlo makes a moving movie in its own right:

The Life & Times of Frida Kahlo.
Homage to Chagall.
Mary Cassatt: A Brush with Independence.
Cezanne: Three Colors.
Robert Rauschenberg: Inventive Genius.
Man Ray: Prophet of the Avant-Garde.
Jasper Johns: Ideas in Paint.