Here are some
brief impressions on the two films I saw on Saturday, July 27th:
This powerful and intricately textured character study cultivates nuance and tension like none other, creating a coming-of-age narrative that is just as complex as the troubled teenager that it vies to depict. While heavy on symbolism, Animals never provides easy answers, respecting the spectator to make his own decision as to the nature of the protagonist’s angst and his confused sexual preferences. The breathtaking photography of natural landscapes and evocative soundtrack further help creating a vibrant portray of childhood lost to hormonal mood swings and the primal fear of change, providing subtle and not-so-subtle hints as to the protagonist’s busy, but unavowed inner life. A stellar example of smart teenage cinema.
Animals follows Pol,
a reserved high-school student living with his estranged cop brother and
sharing his time between school, hanging out with pretty friend Laia and band
practice with his talking stuffed bear. A constant reminder of his childish
candor, the bear acts as an anchor into the past, preventing Pol from flying on
his own toward the scary world of adults. You see, Pol is troubled about his
identity, and particularly his sexual identity. Unresponsive to young Laia’s
advance, he does not fail to notice the sudden apparition of charismatic
new student Ikari at his school.
Drawn to him by an attraction that he struggles to explain, he eventually
manages to move in closer, but only to discover a scary world of self-abuse and
careless abandon that he is not ready to embrace. Left even more confused than
he was in the first place, Pol starts regressing back to a childlike state,
unwilling to make the leap into what appears to be a dark and distressing world, choosing instead to share the carefree life of the animals.
Reverting to childhood as a solution to teenage angst
(I push back tears from my eyes as I write this).
What first strikes us with Animals, aside from the highly unnatural, computerized voice
of Pol’s teddy bear, is the sheer majesty of the natural landscapes surrounding
the protagonist's school and home. Gorgeously photographed (even underwater), these
landscapes will in turn allow the director to organically depict the
protagonist’s inner turmoil as well as to draw him back to the primordial
nature of existence. The characters are actually dwarfed by nature here, as if
their importance was as that of a scratch on some tree bark, pointing out to
their finite and highly corporeal existence, even in the face of teenage
narcissism. Hence, the depth of field finds huge relevance here, not only as a narrative device, but as a way to merge the characters with the background. As for the titular critters, they also carry some powerful symbolic
worth, especially in their untimely and largely unsung deaths…
Further symbolism is to be found in the figure of the bear,
which stands at the crossroads of humanity and the animals, a constant reminder
of the simplicity of the childhood and its intrinsic ties to the world of
nature, untainted by the presence of either cars or complex human emotions. His
impersonal, computerized voice does not even suggest a friend, but more of a
wiseman, willing and able to dispense the reassuring compliments necessary for
Pol to accept his condition. The scene in which the protagonist drowns the bear
is absolutely traumatizing in that regard. Filmed like the execution of a rival
in a gangster film, this sequence sees Pol fastening the toy to a rock and
throwing it in the lake. But the talking bear doesn’t plead for his life. He
merely asks why, further making the reality of his demise painful to us. All in
all, the sacrifice of childish innocence is depicted as something highly
distressful and dark, a necessary but painful passage that Pol will eventually
fail to complete like so many of his peers, choosing to rejoin the bear in
neverending childhood instead.
***1/2
This smart and singular coming-of-age film is highlighted by some
gorgeous photography, a highly evocative soundtrack and the striking emotional
honesty of the screenplay.
This cheesy Indian import, complete with incongruous musical numbers, seems to have come straight out of the 1980s, with a resounding soundtrack and a barrage of cool dramatic poses to boot. Star Vidyut Jamwal is great at kicking ass, but his talent is marred by uninspired action scenes and the ever-present promise of crude characterization or the inane chatter of co-star Pooja Chopra. With the film drawing constantly from the lexicon of romantic comedies, the gritty references to Stallone’s First Blood are also marred by confused intentions, which infect the whole narrative to the point of near-pointlessness.
In the story, Karan is a commando, and as such, he is the
pride and joy of his former commanding officer, who lovingly recalls his training in a
flashback/montage that borders on the comedic. But then, the man is captured in
Chinese soil, where he is tortured for one year after being shunned by the
Indian government. Not unlike James Bond in Die Another Day, this does not
contribute to the protagonist’s characterization as he flees from his captors
and returns home to distribute his own brand of justice not on the people who left him behind, but on a random bad guy, criminal kingpin
Amrit, whose lust for gorgeous Simrit provides fertile soil for a romance with
courageous Karan. Forced to hide in the jungle, Karan and Simrit will tediously slaughter
each of Amrit’s henchmen until only he is left standing and ready to face
justice for his crimes.
That's what a bad guy looks like!
There’s no shortage of boisterous music in Commando, and the narrative does not dab in subtelty either.
Hell, the main antagonist is a white-eyed, acne-scarred, soulless killer born
on a moonless night. He’s even got a Damian-inspired theme song that plays when
he strolls around. As for protagonist Karan, he is the selfless, uptight go-to
guy that anyone would expect. In comparaison, John Rambo seems like a
Shakespearian hero, devoid also of the bothersome, obligatory love interest.
Obviously, Pooja Chopra looks quite nice, and she’s awesome at striking a sexy
pose, but she hardly brings any meat to her insufferable, blabbermouth of a
character. She’s just a girl, stuck inbetween two guys vying for her love, with
everything else around them being a mere afterthought. The musical numbers
being the high points of dramatic expression, there’s little meat left on the
bone after one has grooved to the perplexing images of armed henchmen indulging
in intricate dance choreographies.
Filled to the brim with cool dramatic poses and cheesy
romance, the film remains purely superficial throughout, skipping over the more
palatable aspect of the screenplay, which concerns the capture and torture of
Karan by Chinese agents. As for the relationship between Karan and his former
chief, it borrows almost directly from First Blood, but without any of the
dramatic or socio-political relevance associated with the latter film. Again,
all is played just for laughs. And it wouldn’t be so bad if only the fight
scenes were well-orchastrated. But these are also found to be lacking in both
rhythm and spectacle, doing very little to lighten the punishing 110+ minute
runtime. This film actually had one of my friends swear never to see an Indian
film ever again. And while I won’t go to such extremes, I will say that the
present example is not only a sloppy byproduct of Hollywood, but a sloppy
byproduct of 1970s Hollywood.
*1/2 With
a handful of musical numbers providing the dramatic crux of the film, there is
little else to appreciate in this clumsy throwback, not even the action scenes.
