AIN”T THEM BODIES SAINTS
The screen fills with the sepia image of a bygone Texas. Sinewy lovers quarrel and forgive, then wait in a pick-up, planning a future with their unborn baby, until the third robber arrives. There’s a chase, a lonesome shack, a shoot out, and a compromise that sends the boy away to prison and the girl home to pine.
There’s good reason writer/director David Lowery’s romantic tragedy Ain’t Them Bodies Saints feels so confident. The breathtaking cinematography, the fittingly artistic framing, the poetry of the language and image, the heartbreaking authority of the performances – each element fits together beautifully and benefits from the artistic coordination of a maestro. It’s because the relatively unknown Lowery has honed his craft, spending time as a casting director, crewman, writer, director, sound editor, actor, producer, and cinematographer before tackling this, the culminating effort of a lifetime spent in film.
He’s blessed with a cast that embraces his understated drama. Casey Affleck animates a career full of characters with vulnerability and confused nobility, and he impresses again here as the outlaw who breaks out of prison, just like he promised, to reunite with his girl and the daughter he’s never met.
Rooney Mara’s quiet ferocity offsets Affleck’s tenderness, and the love story they create offers a poignant center to the film. Orbiting the couple is Ben Foster’s humble police officer, torn by his affection for one and duty to the other. Each actor embodies an image of lonesomeness that makes the film ache. What’s beautiful about this triangle is that neither the characters nor the filmmaker judges anyone. Lowery and his characters accept, however sadly, the motivations and actions of all involved.
The young mother also attracts the protective nature of a retired gangster/father figure played by Keith Carradine, whose presence reinforces the film’s bluesy connection to the other great, doomed Western romance, McCabe and Mrs. Miller.
The film’s one shortcoming is that it does not tell a larger tale. This beautifully told story of loneliness, devotion, love and tragedy never manages to transcend its own intimacy to speak to something universal.
But it’s a hell of an effort, and one that establishes Lowery as one of the most exciting new filmmakers to come along in decades.
I DECLARE WAR
“This is war, not #&^%$!’ hopscotch!”
That may not sound like kid stuff, but I Declare War presents an arresting mix of fantasy and reality, transporting you back to a time when counting to ten could resurrect the dead, and all that mattered was the here and now.
Co-directors Robert Wilson and Jason Lapeyre, working from Lapeyre’s script, drop us in the heat of battle right from the get go, as a group of 12 year olds is engaged in a very serious round of Capture the Flag.
To hear George’s interview with co-director Robert Wilson, click this: Robert_Wilson
General PK (Gage Munroe) is out to remain unbeaten, while across the woods, General Quinn (Aidan Gouveia) plots an upset. Both leaders must deal with dissension in the ranks, and some surprises in the field, before a winner is declared.
Wilson and Lapeyre contain the film in a glorious section of the outdoors, framing the action skillfully enough to give it an expansive, wide open feel, as if the opposing base camps were miles apart and expert cunning was required to keep from getting hopelessly lost.
Of course, putting pre-teens in violent situations where sticks suddenly become rifles and POWs are subject to enhanced interrogation will quickly bring up a host of delicate social issues. Thankfully, the filmmakers deliver their commentary with a gentle touch, utilizing a terrific young cast to craft characters who, though a bit cliched in their respective roles, don’t reek of adult romanticism.
You’ll recognize homages to Apocalypse Now, Saving Private Ryan and more, and as you find yourself caught up in a kid’s game, you’ll recognize a phase of life that’s bursting with both anguish and wonder.
