I think they were going for “Seven” here… but ended up with a by the numbers cop drama. It never got that deep, despite it’s best efforts.
Ben Mendelsohn and Shailene Woodley carry a lot of water to get this one across the finish line. it has it’s moments where it goes full “shock and awe,” and some potentially intriguing threads, but they fail to fully pull those threads or veer off the beaten path enough to have piqued my interest above general intrigue. It was a solid movie, just not as good as I was hoping it would be.
You’re not ready for this movie. I wasn’t ready for this movie. No one is ready for this movie.
Paul Schrader, the same man who brought the Abu Ghraib reckoning masked in a poker playing road trip coming of age film to life brings us… this. A white supremacist who falls in love with a black woman masked as a love story intertwined with a revenge tale masquerading as a film about horticulture. It’s a lot to take in, and definitely not for the faint of heart. It’s clunky at times, but similar to “The Card Counter,” this film deals in the most tense of situations. There’s really no breathing room until the credits roll.
^In essence, it’s a two hour reflection on the intricacies of the above chart. Polanski keeps to his niche of passionate oddity put to film. An immaculate introspection on the intensity of intimacy.
What could just be dismissed as an x-rated episode of “The Love Boat” has so much under the surface to explore for those willing. As erotic thrillers go, this has a much stronger delivery, in my opinion, than the likes of “Fatal Attraction” and “Eyes Wide Shut.” They all dance on the same floor, but this one is the definite belle of the ball. Perhaps it’s Polanski’s touch for the eccentric, added to by the fact that he ended up marrying Emmanuelle Seigner, who is electric in her performance as the minx muse Mimi. The heat of the passion shared between the main couple is only topped by the intensity of the revenge enacted in the final act.
The film spends the entire runtime ruminating on the razor’s edge of the results of such powerful passion… both the beauty and the dread. Only such a strong affection could lead to such affliction as this rose blossoms and then withers on the vine in the most violent of fashions.
It’s a cinematographic representation of the frog in the boiling water. If that frog was also tapping his watch and asking for this whole thing to hurry up and be done with. It felt every second of its hour and forty five minute runtime. Willem Dafoe does his damndest to save this thing, and does cement himself as the master of “slowly slipping into madness” guy, but even he can’t save this from itself. Art heist gone wrong movie turns into silver screen serpent eating its own tail in search of a deeper meaning.
Brett Garten, Movie Extraordinare 