|
||||||
Japón (2002), Directed by Carlos ReygadasNaturalism Becomes Unnatural - Spirituality Sentimental
Carlos Reygadas' Japón is heavily influenced by Andrei Tarkovsky's naturalistic style; but, falters in an effort to straddle the fence between different worlds.
Naturalism in film, as in literature, relies on the film maker's instinct to create uncompromising, often times unpleasant depictions of life. Most film makers working in this style use non-actors in loosely scripted scenarios to express realism and authenticity. Film Student SynopsisFor film students looking for a quick pithy synopsis of Japon using Hollywood speak: think It’s A Wonderful Life meets Harold and Maude. Got it? Okay, you have Jimmy Stewart as played by Alejandro Ferretis marching up the mountain, bound and determined to kill himself; only in It’s A Wonderful Life, film maker Frank Capra provides an easy to understand reason for Stewart’s suicidal despair: poverty and crushed ambition. And maybe this is the same reason The Man in Japon wants so desperately to off himself, it’s just never made clear (such distinctions are frowned upon in art house circles). Instead of the angel coming down from outer space to show The Man what a difference his life has made, The Man receives an elderly catholic woman named Ascen (Magdalena Flores) who unknowingly transforms The Man’s perception of life through her generosity and unique feminine charm. This is when The Man meets Harold and Maude. Dead HorseThe Man bunks at Ascen's quiet little home in the hills above the noisier village below. Ascen bends over backwards to accommodate her strange guest. After a few oblique conversations regarding her religion and his lack there of, the two become as close as a suicidal atheist and an elderly catholic can become. One day, The Man finds an incredibly picturesque spot to kill himself; the appearance of an enormous dead horse pretty much assures the time and place is just right. The Man pulls the trigger; a quick cut to a gaping wound spouting blood; and then back to The Man lying, dying and bleeding in the rain next to the dead horse. Fade to white, and the screen remains so for what seems like minutes, teasing the viewer into believing The Man had succeeded and the end has come. Only no, this is actually the film maker’s demarcation, referencing the exact mid-point in the film. It seems that while dying, The Man had a vision, a sensual vision regarding Ascen. The Man becomes convinced, that in order to alter his life, and/or the reason he did not succeed in killing himself, was to make love to this kind, elderly, catholic woman. Unnatural DeathIf this all sounds very clinical and cold, it is. But, it’s not for a lack of trying. For all it’s initial displays of realism, mostly in the form of animal mutilation and torture, Japon is weighted heavily toward sentimentality. Which makes for an awkward, if not altogether uninteresting brew of contradictory elements, of romanticism and naturalism. The photography is undoubtedly stunning; which works well in contrast to the ugly beauty Reygadas stages. But, Reygadas gaudy use of heavy, orchestrated music is a naked attempt to evoke emotion in scenes that are otherwise brutal. Real Life SufferingOddly, the strongest scene in the entire film doesn’t include The Man or Ascen; and it isn’t a written or rehearsed scene. It’s a scene involving a group of construction/destruction workers, who’ve come to demolish the old lady’s home. The guys in the drunken wrecking crew start to beg and prod a slumped and shy co-worker to sing a song. These guys are clearly not actors. They appear to be improvising; if not improvising, simply talking; to the point of actually making reference to the film makers behind the cameras (unfortunately, this scene also includes a shot of one of the men strangling a puppy as a mock demonstration of how a dog can sing accompaniment). Eventually the guy does sing, and when he sings, he becomes so overwhelmed with emotion, tears run down his face, and he can barely get the words out. It’s an incredible scene; and to watch such reality in all it’s heart-breaking honesty, it’s hard not to ask why; why didn’t Carlos Reygadas simply make a documentary? For a differing opinion, read New York Times film critic A.O. Scott's rave review. A.O. Scott's review references another naturalistic film maker Abbas Kiarostami, previously reviewed in The Wind Will Carry Us.
The copyright of the article Japón (2002), Directed by Carlos Reygadas in Latin American Films is owned by Martin G. Wood. Permission to republish Japón (2002), Directed by Carlos Reygadas in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
|
||||||
|
|
||||||
|
|
||||||