Recently Seen: The Village
Firstly, I may be one of the 5 people in the world who have not seen The Sixth Sense. I know the big revelation at the end, so there didn't seem much point to watching it. I did see both Signs and Unbreakable, without being spoiled for the "twists", and was suitably impressed by M.Night Shyamalan's use of film techniques.
Before I saw The Village, I read that this had been voted the Worst Movie of 2005 in an online poll at the Guardian Unlimited. Expectations going in were not all that high.
Well, it's nowhere near that bad. I was "spoiled" for the ending, as the twist was revealed in the aforementioned Guardian report. Still, there were enough details left unsketched that I could enjoy watching the plot unfold.
I think the problem with the movie is that its premise is inherently ridiculous. I don't doubt that it is possible to build that sort of Utopian society where "money is not part of ... life", where everyone seems to live and act for the collective good. After all, there are communities even now that live that way. In the movie, however, the choice to of the mid 1800's as the setting for this ideal life comes across merely as a plot machination. There is no internal logic to choosing that era, other than the supposition that modern inventions contribute to the evils that plagues society. Where did they then draw the line at what was too "modern"? M.Night Shyamalan tries to explain this away by having William Hurt's character, Walker, proclaim that he was a professor of American history. We are to suppose that his knowledge of rural American life in that era led to the formation of the village. That may explain it, but only so that they could have this particular plot device.
The problems with the premise become multiplied if you start looking closely for holes. If there were only 8 elders, where did all those people come from? A lot of in-breeding going on? Some of the people looked far too old to be children of the elders, so when did they arrive at the village? Were they brought there and if so, why can they not remember "the towns"? And how did the elders learn to speak so stiltedly, without the use of contractions? Why choose "red" as the bad colour? Are the women folk to aver their eyes when it's their time of the month?
The point is probably not to look too closely and to enjoy the film for its strength. M.Night Shyamalan is an uneven writer, but a gifted film-maker. He does genuinely build tension in a scene, with clever use of lighting, music and camera angles. The segment on Ivy Walker's journey through Covington woods is a little tour-de-force, despite the ludicrous premise of a blind woman not once getting lost in unfamiliar surrounds. If you can suspend disbelief, there is much to admire in his film craft.
The best thing about this movie is Roger Deakin's cinematography. The night scenes are brilliantly shot, with the glow of moonlight and lamplight diffused beautifully across the screen. The interior scenes are like paintings from the Dutch school. The outdoor day scenes capture both the idealism of the verdant valley and the foreboding beyonds of the forests. This is cinematography that tells its own story. Deakin also frames the scenes like an artists; there are certain shots that just took my breath away. I recall still the scene with the rocking chair in the fields and the moonlit montage as the villagers returned from Kitty's wedding.
The next best thing in the movie is Bryce Dallas Howard who plays feisty Ivy Walker. From certain angles, she looks a lot like her father, Ron Howard, which was a bit unnerving at first. She is not conventionally beautiful but has a strong, intelligent screen presence. I love her speaking voice; it is low and mature, yet not at all at odds with her youth. It came as no surprise that she had done Shakespeare on the New York stage; she has the beautiful enunciation of a trained stage thespian. Yet there is nothing stagey about her performance in this film; she is natural and lively and manages to make us believe in even the most ridiculous lines she was given to read.
The rest of the cast holds us well. Joaquin Phoenix is always an interesting actor to watch and here he does a convincing turn as brooding, taciturn Lucius Hunt. The relationship between Lucius and Ivy is the most appealing plotline in the movie, and both leads share the right amount of chemistry to make us care.
William Hurt is William Hurt, and depending on whether you like William Hurt, that can be a good or bad thing. He does his usual dependable work. Adrien Brody really hams it up as the mentally disabled Noah Percy. You can see the technique behind what he does and admire what a good actor he is, but it's an acting choice that stands him apart from the rest of the movie. Sigourney Weaver is not given much to do, but acquits herself well. Brendan Gleeson is the scene stealer; he has very few scenes, but manages in that brief time to establish a complex character torn between the darkness of his past and the bleakness of his present.
If the movie had focused more on these characters, instead of having them serve to push the central plot to its final revelation and resolution, perhaps it would not be so reviled. I rather liked it, because I think the actors (particularly Bryce Dallas Howard) make us care almost in spite of the screenplay. And it is a beautiful film to look at and to listen too. The score is pseudo-classical and Hilary Hahn is featured in several atmospheric violin solos. The composer received a well-deserved Oscar nomination for this original score. Someday, if M.Night Shyamalan writes a better script, or allows himself to direct another screenplay, he may yet find himself again an Oscar nominee as a director. In The Village, he is hampered by his own weak screenplay, but shows his brilliance as a technician and a film-maker.
Before I saw The Village, I read that this had been voted the Worst Movie of 2005 in an online poll at the Guardian Unlimited. Expectations going in were not all that high.
Well, it's nowhere near that bad. I was "spoiled" for the ending, as the twist was revealed in the aforementioned Guardian report. Still, there were enough details left unsketched that I could enjoy watching the plot unfold.
I think the problem with the movie is that its premise is inherently ridiculous. I don't doubt that it is possible to build that sort of Utopian society where "money is not part of ... life", where everyone seems to live and act for the collective good. After all, there are communities even now that live that way. In the movie, however, the choice to of the mid 1800's as the setting for this ideal life comes across merely as a plot machination. There is no internal logic to choosing that era, other than the supposition that modern inventions contribute to the evils that plagues society. Where did they then draw the line at what was too "modern"? M.Night Shyamalan tries to explain this away by having William Hurt's character, Walker, proclaim that he was a professor of American history. We are to suppose that his knowledge of rural American life in that era led to the formation of the village. That may explain it, but only so that they could have this particular plot device.
The problems with the premise become multiplied if you start looking closely for holes. If there were only 8 elders, where did all those people come from? A lot of in-breeding going on? Some of the people looked far too old to be children of the elders, so when did they arrive at the village? Were they brought there and if so, why can they not remember "the towns"? And how did the elders learn to speak so stiltedly, without the use of contractions? Why choose "red" as the bad colour? Are the women folk to aver their eyes when it's their time of the month?
The point is probably not to look too closely and to enjoy the film for its strength. M.Night Shyamalan is an uneven writer, but a gifted film-maker. He does genuinely build tension in a scene, with clever use of lighting, music and camera angles. The segment on Ivy Walker's journey through Covington woods is a little tour-de-force, despite the ludicrous premise of a blind woman not once getting lost in unfamiliar surrounds. If you can suspend disbelief, there is much to admire in his film craft.
The best thing about this movie is Roger Deakin's cinematography. The night scenes are brilliantly shot, with the glow of moonlight and lamplight diffused beautifully across the screen. The interior scenes are like paintings from the Dutch school. The outdoor day scenes capture both the idealism of the verdant valley and the foreboding beyonds of the forests. This is cinematography that tells its own story. Deakin also frames the scenes like an artists; there are certain shots that just took my breath away. I recall still the scene with the rocking chair in the fields and the moonlit montage as the villagers returned from Kitty's wedding.
The next best thing in the movie is Bryce Dallas Howard who plays feisty Ivy Walker. From certain angles, she looks a lot like her father, Ron Howard, which was a bit unnerving at first. She is not conventionally beautiful but has a strong, intelligent screen presence. I love her speaking voice; it is low and mature, yet not at all at odds with her youth. It came as no surprise that she had done Shakespeare on the New York stage; she has the beautiful enunciation of a trained stage thespian. Yet there is nothing stagey about her performance in this film; she is natural and lively and manages to make us believe in even the most ridiculous lines she was given to read.
The rest of the cast holds us well. Joaquin Phoenix is always an interesting actor to watch and here he does a convincing turn as brooding, taciturn Lucius Hunt. The relationship between Lucius and Ivy is the most appealing plotline in the movie, and both leads share the right amount of chemistry to make us care.
William Hurt is William Hurt, and depending on whether you like William Hurt, that can be a good or bad thing. He does his usual dependable work. Adrien Brody really hams it up as the mentally disabled Noah Percy. You can see the technique behind what he does and admire what a good actor he is, but it's an acting choice that stands him apart from the rest of the movie. Sigourney Weaver is not given much to do, but acquits herself well. Brendan Gleeson is the scene stealer; he has very few scenes, but manages in that brief time to establish a complex character torn between the darkness of his past and the bleakness of his present.
If the movie had focused more on these characters, instead of having them serve to push the central plot to its final revelation and resolution, perhaps it would not be so reviled. I rather liked it, because I think the actors (particularly Bryce Dallas Howard) make us care almost in spite of the screenplay. And it is a beautiful film to look at and to listen too. The score is pseudo-classical and Hilary Hahn is featured in several atmospheric violin solos. The composer received a well-deserved Oscar nomination for this original score. Someday, if M.Night Shyamalan writes a better script, or allows himself to direct another screenplay, he may yet find himself again an Oscar nominee as a director. In The Village, he is hampered by his own weak screenplay, but shows his brilliance as a technician and a film-maker.
Labels: Movie Reviews
posted by gentleice the deptfordian at 9:05 PM
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