Oh Lordy. There was bound to be one. The Master was a divisive film, but it doesn’t exist on the same
plane of vitriol and adoration that Cloud
Atlas is facing. For one, Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master is “mostly” adored by fans of his films and by fans of
adult cinema in general, and for good reason. It is a masterpiece. Cloud Atlas, on the other hand, is split
down the middle in terms of opinion—both public and critical.
That is because the movie is ridiculous. Yet, in spite of
this fact, it is one of the best films of 2012. Based on one of the most
ambitious novels in recent memory, by David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas the film undoes its carefully put-together, yet insane
narrative structure of nesting the 6 novellas within the novel in a matter that
is palindrome-like. The first story stops half of the way through and then the
second story begins. This pattern continues until the sixth story, where it is
presented in completion. Then the second halves of the first five stories, in
reverse order (fifth, fourth, third, second, and then the first ending the
novel) unfold in a downward slide of emotion and pop-philosophy. The acclaimed
novel earned most of its sentiment through its memorable characters and writing
style that matches each of its time periods (1800s open sea, 1930s Europe,
1970s Reagan California, 2000s Britain, futuristic South Korea, and distant future
post-apocalypse in Hawaii) and their genres (an sea-bound epistolary story, a
tragic bedroom farce, a pulpy and unrealistic political thriller, a modern
Brit-com, a heavy science-fiction story, and a post-apocalyptic adventure tale)
perfectly. Characters from different stories meet. They all find the diaries,
letters, memoirs, or films about the other characters in the other stories. The
connections are everywhere in both theme and plot. The novel’s ambition never
overcomes its own control of itself.
The movie is different, though. It adds many new complex
layers to the book, and some of these layers infuriate viewers. The three
directors, Lana and Andy Wachowski (The
Matrix trilogy) and Tom Tykwer (Run
Lola Run) have changed the nesting structure into a film that constantly
uses emotional and visual cues to cut to one of the other stories. Some viewers
may be confused by the constant cutting, but I think it is a miracle that it
works as well as it does[i].
It is possible to follow the story if you pay attention to the cues. Maybe a second
viewing would help many in this regard.
Another area that has frustrated viewers is the use of the
theme of reincarnation. The main cast—Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Hugh Grant, Jim
Broadbent, Hugo Weaving, Jim Sturgess, Ben Whishaw, James D’Arcy, Keith David,
Doona Bae, Xun Zhou, and Susan Sarandon—play multiple characters with heavy
make-up[ii].
They change races and genders throughout the movie. D’Arcy plays an Asian for
one of his characters, Weaving plays a frightening female nurse, Berry plays a
Jewish woman, Bae inexplicably plays a Mexican, and Hanks intentionally plays a
hilarious cockney-speaking thug which is out of character as any of the roles
in the movie. The effect truly does
bring about the connectedness of the characters to one another’s lives. In
ways, while some may call the changing-rolls amateurish, and Bae’s Mexican
character in particular comes to mind, it is an ingenious way to help the
viewer understand that these stories do connect thematically, plot-wise, and in
the ways the characters interact with one another. The film is as concise as it
is all over the place.
~~
So Cloud Atlas is
a long, challenging movie that is about truly sentimental themes of love that
half of everyone either already hates or will hate. Why is it worth your
trouble?
Firstly, it succeeds in executing its central themes. The
film (and novel) is about being put upon by those in power. Adam Ewing’s Abolitionist
character (Sturgess) sees slavery as the disease that it is, and Dr. Goose (Hanks)
holds him under his thumb by pretending to be his trusted doctor yet is literally
poisoning him slowly throughout the movie. Young would-be composer Robert
Frobisher (Whishaw) is indentured to his composer master Vyvyan Ayrs
(Broadbent) and by his erratic depression and not-really-closeted
homosexuality/bisexuality. Investigative journalist Louisa Rey (Berry) is being
hunted by the big, powerful oil company for being a threat to reveal their
dastardly secrets. Tim Cavendish (Broadbent) is literally trapped in an evil
old folk’s home. Sonmi (Bae) is a clone slave to a fast food chain. And
finally, good Zachry (Hanks, again) is always in hiding from the evil Kona
cannibals in Hawaii (played gloriously by Hugh Grant. Yes, that Hugh Grant). All
of these characters face different troubles, but they are all versions of the
same thing. We all face versions of the same problem over and over. The movie
manages to not be repetitive given its circular themes, which is a success in
its own right.
The other big theme, executed wonderfully, is that of our
actions affecting others. Compassion. Not only do we face the same problems
over and over as humans, but we also cause problems throughout time for
ourselves, those around us, and many for centuries to come. There is no Inception-falling-through-four-levels-of-dreams
moment here, but rather a recognition that we all make up this world together. This
compassion that the film asks for can be seen in the sinews that hold it
together. The Wachowskis and Tykwer gave
everything they had to this project and its connective tissue. It is guaranteed
to fail financially, yet they still mortgaged their houses to get this film
made. They meticulously plotted their rapid-fire version of the novel to film
an epic that they could be proud of. They wanted to share their message with
us. The Wachowskis, who hate press, have done so in hopes that those who have
invested in its success will be repaid for their charity. The actors too show
compassion in their performances. Tom Hanks and Ben Whishaw stick out in their
primary storylines as Zachry and Frobrisher respectively, but it is Jim Broadbent
that steals the show with all of his speaking-part characters[iii].
While many people will hate Cloud Atlas,
others will love it. The three wonderful filmmakers and their cast made Cloud Atlas for us who love it, to show
us why we continue to use film as a medium of expression. We make movies
because they show us what is important in our lives.
~~
At the end of Cloud
Atlas, Haskell Moore (Weaving) asked Adam Ewing, his son-in-law, why he
would become an Abolitionist. He says anything that Ewing could do is merely
drops in a limitless ocean.
Cloud
Atlas literally asks us, “But isn’t the ocean made up of a multitude
of drops?”
[i] Academy award nomination
for editing, anyone?
[ii] Academy award
nomination for make-up, anyone?
[iii] Again, Academy award
nomination for Supporting Actor, anyone? By the way, there is almost no way
that this film is nominated for any award other than maybe visual effects. Even
that is iffy. I highly doubt the Academy embraces Cloud Atlas’s money-losing production.
Good review TJ. Not as smart or thought-provoking as it likes to think it is, but it’s still an entertaining and interesting movie to see where it goes with itself and how. It’s probably not going to make any of it’s money back, but hey, at least it’s an effort that I’m glad I saw. For free, mind you.
ReplyDeleteFree is always good :-)
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