The Place Beyond the Pines

Pine Fresh

Director Derek Cianfrance has a fascination with fractured relationships, and boy does he know how to drive them home. In his debut film “Brother Tied” he examined a splintered sibling relationship, with “Blue Valentine” he explored the implosion of a marriage, and with “The Place Beyond the Pines” he studies the legacy and fallout of  choices made by fathers and sons. 

The film tells its story as a triptych. The first part follows Luke (Ryan Gosling, Blue Valentine, Drive, ), a daredevil biker who’s going nowhere but the next stop on his performance route, until he receives a visit from an old flame, Romina (Eva Mendes, The Other Guys) in Schenectady, New York. When he learns that since his last tour in town she gave birth to his son, he decides to stick around and help her any way he can — even if that means robbing banks to provide for his son. 

During one of his heists, his path suddenly and violently meets that of rookie cop Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper, Silver Linings Playbook, The Hangover), and the narrative switches to Avery’s life for the next section of the movie. The film follows the echoes and consequences of Avery and Luke’s brief meeting, and how their legacies are carried down to their sons in the third act. 

The whole film hinges on the concept of the ripple effect — following each character’s actions far beyond the moment and into the lives of those around them — almost to a fault. Each new chapter feels a bit more weighted by the time commitment and ambition of the movie, which comes in at a whopping two hours and 20 minutes. 

“The Place Beyond the Pines” is certainly more overtly ambitious than Cianfrance’s previous works, and it doesn’t carry quite the subtle emotional punch that “Blue Valentine” does. The characters, the plot points, and the overwhelming emotion will be off-putting to those who don’t care to wade through all the sentiment.

But there’s something evocative about the stories Cianfrance tells in “The Place Beyond the Pines.” Cianfrance’s style is less about artistic control of his films than about facilitating honest character work, which the movie does gracefully by using both his characters and the location of Schenectady to give the film heart. Cianfrance circles back to events, actions, and people, which makes “The Place Beyond the Pines” a pure but poignant drama. 

By far the standout performance of the film is Gosling’s Luke, whose presence haunts the screen even when he’s not there. His work in the film is more than a pretty face and a nice set of abs; it’s a body mural of tattoos and quiet anguish. It’s the kind of faceted and dimensional work that Gosling does so well. 

Gosling’s subdued nature reflects the understated duality present in Cianfrance’s story: It simultaneously feels harrowingly true and ambitiously melodramatic. Although the questions it asks may seem a bit heavy for the story, they’ll stay with you long after you leave “The Place Beyond the Pines.” 

The verdict: Though long and a bit ambitious compared to his previous work, Cianfrance’s latest film is an evocative exploration of complex relationships. 

Life Of Pi

Ang Lee has already demonstrated his vast versatility as a director ranging from Jane Austen adaptations (Sense and Sensibility), to culturally charged rom coms (The Wedding Banquet), to old school wuxia films (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), to tragic love dramas (Brokeback Mountain). Now a la Martin Scorcese, Lee makes his foray into the canvas that is 3-D in his treatment of the acclaimed novel, Life of Pi.

Pi follows the narrative of the titular character Piscene “Pi” Patel, a curiously spiritual Indian boy, who suffers a tragic shipwreck, leaving his family dead and himself stranded in a lifeboat with a Bengal Tiger named Richard Parker.
The film is told through the perspective of an adult Pi (Irrfan Khan, Slumdog Millionaire, The Amazing Spiderman), retelling his story to a Canadian writer (Rage Spall, Hot Fuzz, Prometheus). This form of narrative merely serves as a plot device and plays out in a rather predictable fashion. The true artistry occurs during Pi’s 227 day aquatic odyssey with Richard Parker.

If you’ve read the book you know what you’re getting into. The bulk of the movie is Pi on learning to live on the raft with Richard Parker, and similarly to WALL-E, Life of Pi relies heavily on visuals and minimal dialogue. This definitely helps the movie feel the full 2 hours it is, but it sure pulls it off.

Lee has defined himself as one of the most poetic directors of our generation, able to realize intensely human emotions in a multitude of landscapes. Filmed in 3-D, the film takes what Lee already does with a cinematography and embellishes upon his craft on the x, y, and z axis. Lee contrasts a glass-like ocean of vast majesty with a treacherous and claustrophobic lifeboat, illustrating the delicate line between the beautiful and terrifying.

What really sells the film is the complement between the animated Richard Parker and newcomer Suraj Sharma as the adolescent Pi. The sophistication of the tiger’s rendering and Sharma’s commitment to character add up to a believability that places us right in the boat with the two of them. We begin to feel the hope drain from our bodies, and our sanity begin to wane, only to realize that the 500lb bengal tiger is not only our greatest fear, but our greatest anchor to survival.

Pi grapples with spirituality, forcing us to face the enormity of the cosmic energies in the universe, humbling us and realizing our own minuteness. To reconcile with the vast sphere of our existence, narration provides us with a tool to define our lives. Pi demonstrates our subjectivity of a narrative frames how we derive philosophical meaning from events and ultimately how to face each day in the life of Pi.