2.01.2004
gerry
when i put on gus van sant's film gerry tonight, i found it initially difficult to overcome my skepticism. at first, it struck me as an overbearing, all too deliberate attempt at the feel of an abbas kiarostami film-- a calculated pastiche of the digressive, panoramic lyricism of the wind will carry us, for example.
but as i watched, i put my film-geek-grumpiness to rest. it's actually a rather idiosyncratic experience, and one hell of a brave move on the part of van sant, to say nothing of matt damon.
that's right-- matt damon. the film follows damon and daredevil's brother casey affleck around as a hiking trip turns into a disaster somewhere in the desert. they get lost. and the more they wander around, the more lost they get. and that's pretty much it. the dialogue is brief and mundane. there's little in the way of conflict or emotion. no hammy oscar worthy posturing. there's almost nothing.
a lot of the blurps i read on the rotten tomatoes page for the movie threw the term "existential" around quite a bit. but i think that misses the mark. at its root, i think the film has more in common with a horror movie than an existential journey. only instead of concentrating on psychological or moral punishment, its focus is distinctly upon the flesh. with little else to go on (both characters are completely impenetrable, not to mention uninteresting), the film strikes me as more concerned with bodily breakdown than an allegorical search for meaning.
bodily breakdown and environmental magnitude. in this sense, it's more like kubrick than kiarostami. the desert itself, like HAL in 2001: a space odyssey, is a more engaging character than the humans, and the icy delight taken in filming it is a spoonful of sugar in an otherwise demanding viewing experience. there's something playfully wicked about the casting of damon (who also co-wrote the film), in that it almost dares you to set him aside. the film seems to deprive him of all his hollywood evocations in the same spirit as its premise deprives him of food and water.
(sidenote: i think it would be conceptually even more successful if it were ben affleck at his side, making the experience a kind of good will hunting brainwash of sorts).
ultimately, the film succeeds where van sant's earlier psycho remake failed. despite its overly cerebral embellishments (affleck and damon call one another "gerry," and use the term as a kind of slang as well), it generates a distinct resonance. unlike psycho, this is no science experiment. it is elusive rather than dissective. one emerges from the experience a bit like a claustrophobic might emerge from a broom closet-- shaken on a basic level, with little in the realm of rational explanation.
but as i watched, i put my film-geek-grumpiness to rest. it's actually a rather idiosyncratic experience, and one hell of a brave move on the part of van sant, to say nothing of matt damon.
that's right-- matt damon. the film follows damon and daredevil's brother casey affleck around as a hiking trip turns into a disaster somewhere in the desert. they get lost. and the more they wander around, the more lost they get. and that's pretty much it. the dialogue is brief and mundane. there's little in the way of conflict or emotion. no hammy oscar worthy posturing. there's almost nothing.
a lot of the blurps i read on the rotten tomatoes page for the movie threw the term "existential" around quite a bit. but i think that misses the mark. at its root, i think the film has more in common with a horror movie than an existential journey. only instead of concentrating on psychological or moral punishment, its focus is distinctly upon the flesh. with little else to go on (both characters are completely impenetrable, not to mention uninteresting), the film strikes me as more concerned with bodily breakdown than an allegorical search for meaning.
bodily breakdown and environmental magnitude. in this sense, it's more like kubrick than kiarostami. the desert itself, like HAL in 2001: a space odyssey, is a more engaging character than the humans, and the icy delight taken in filming it is a spoonful of sugar in an otherwise demanding viewing experience. there's something playfully wicked about the casting of damon (who also co-wrote the film), in that it almost dares you to set him aside. the film seems to deprive him of all his hollywood evocations in the same spirit as its premise deprives him of food and water.
(sidenote: i think it would be conceptually even more successful if it were ben affleck at his side, making the experience a kind of good will hunting brainwash of sorts).
ultimately, the film succeeds where van sant's earlier psycho remake failed. despite its overly cerebral embellishments (affleck and damon call one another "gerry," and use the term as a kind of slang as well), it generates a distinct resonance. unlike psycho, this is no science experiment. it is elusive rather than dissective. one emerges from the experience a bit like a claustrophobic might emerge from a broom closet-- shaken on a basic level, with little in the realm of rational explanation.
