Only God Forgives

Posted on by Zosha Millman

Two years ago, Nicolas Winding Refn’s neo-noir film “Drive” roared onto the scene with as much ferocity as a cinematic grenade. The director was known for abrupt and stylized violence in all his films, and “Drive” blew away audiences with its elegant fusion of arthouse and action. So when Refn announced that he would again work with Ryan Gosling on his next film, “Only God Forgives,” critics and fans alike rejoiced.

The premise seems to lend itself well to Refn’s fondness for striking imagery: Julian (Gosling, Drive, The Place Beyond the Pines) runs a boxing club in Bangkok with his brother Billy (Tom Burke), which actually is a front for their ruthless mother’s (Kristin Scott Thomas) drug-smuggling operation. After Billy is killed, Julian is implored by his aggrieved mother to go after Chang (Vithaya Pansringarm), the deadly police officer responsible for Billy’s death.

But the plot is never so clearly presented on film. It’s the sort of movie that doesn’t attach itself to a strong plot structure, instead relying heavily on silent conversations communicated by a character’s eyes across striking shots of Thailand. It’s a dynamic that David Lynch would be fond of: silent but deadly arthouse violence, with heavy implications on uncomfortable, incestuous family relations.

Despite the beauty of every scene, each of which was clearly thought out in a very specific way, there’s just not enough structure to justify anything that happens in the movie. Refn fails to give context to actions or violence, and the 90 minute run-time passes far slower than it should. The elements of success are all there, but something about “Only God Forgives” prevents them from coming together.

Refn does capture the grime and vibrant Bangkok cityscape with his usual finesse; every frame is meticulously and aesthetically ravishing to watch. Similarly, Refn’s choice of electronic ambiance for the score (from Cliff Martinez, another “Drive” alumnus) accompanies and enhances the sense of dread and foreboding that underlies the underworld in “Only God Forgives.”

Martinez’s reserved,  withdrawn score is a perfect complement to the performances of “Only God Forgives.” As a typical Refn protagonist, stoically floating through a dreamy unreality, Gosling’s Julian is in his element, even if that element is stylized to the point of absurdity.

He’s the perfect paltry and pitiful son in the eyes of his domineering and disparaging mother. Scott Thomas is alarmingly adept in the role, landing every verbal blow and choice word. Her abusive blather is the flipside of characters like Julian and Chang, whose power lies in their minimized dialogue.

But the actors’ skill can’t make up for the lacking (or lack of) dialogue. What’s left is an attempt at a stylish arthouse film but ends up as more of a clunky logjam of violence and silence.

The Verdict: Refn has more than proved he has the makings of a great movie, but “Only God Forgives” feels like a splattered mix of blood and neon.

The Place Beyond the Pines

Posted on by Zosha Millman

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. 

Posted on by Zosha Millman

In honor of our first post: You should all go out and see this movie. I’m sure we’ll cover it at some point; but we’ll doubtlessly refer to it countless times. It’s magnificent. Gosling has 16 lines and rocks it. 

I would say that at the very least you should acquire the soundtrack (it’s superb); but knowing the context of the movie just makes it all the better. The trailer does not do it justice. Go. Watch. Drive.