Wri: Eric Roth
I was lucky to see an advanced screening of Benjamin Button (due out on Christmas - is that really a good idea?). They had all sorts of rules about not bringing in cameras, camera phones, or any sort of recording devices. I mean, they always have those rules, but they searched our bags.
But they can't stop me from writing about it, can they?
First I would have to say that this ranks among one of my favorite films ever, but I think that's because it mostly matches my particular sensiblities. I came out of the theatre completely in awe, but after the post-movie glow wore off, the imperfections rose to the surface. I don't really see myself revealing spoilers here, as it's hard to spoil a movie which has no great reveal, but the criticisms may tell you more than you want to know, so I'll leave them for the end.
I've never read Fitzgerald's short story which formed the basis of this movie, but I've heard it's surprisingly short. The movie, on the other hand, is an epic 2 hours and 45 minutes in which lots of things happen but nothing really happens. That's how I like it - why all this dependence on a strictly ordered and strategically placed chain of causality? Benjamin Button is a character study, a long, sweeping tale pocked with extraordinary bit characters, ordinary magic and the mysterious gloom of de Chirico skies, lights bleeping through ocean fog, orange-lit porches and tilt-a-whirl Southern accents.
One of my favorite books is 100 Years of Solitude, for many of the same reasons. Rather than following one man over the concrete course of a lifetime, Solitude follows an entire family from what feels like the beginning of time to the very, very end. It's a sensual sort of thing, they act like real people but they feel like gods, their lives are both petty and catasophic, characters drift in and out like ghosts through a vacant room. Many of the characters have the same name, which gets really confusing, and I have no idea how Gabriel Garcia Marquez pulled it off.
But I read an interview with Marquez once, and I'll never forget this. He said that his grandmother told stories with matter-of-fact simplicity, but the stories themselves were so impossible, and that, he felt, was the best way to treat to fantastical - to never blink, to never give pause, to never aggrandize. 100 Years is one of the definitive examples of magical realism, and Benjamin Button borrows all of its virtues.
I love it, for example, that those who know Benjamin either accept his condition unflinchingly or fail to notice it. Brad Pitt does an amazing job - I really don't think I've ever seen him do a better one. I would love to know how they did all of the age effects (does anyone know?) because it was quite a feat creating a shriveled old man with a recognizable Brad-face. I wouldn't be surprised if that was a different actor with prosthetics. He must have had body doubles, and there was certainly an abundance of full-body shots where his face was tactfully shrouded. It's just...the transition was so graceful and fluid. They've got to win some kind of award for that. Everyone said it couldn't be done, and I'm usually not one to remark on the technical details, but it's just awesome. But I digress.
The story also comes with its own Melquiades, its own pseudo-omniscient puppeteer man. There's a short, sort of anecdotal story about a blind master clock-maker who made his clock to run backwards so that he may rewind time and bring his son back alive from the Great War. It's understood that through some mythical quirk, Benjamin was affected by the clock. This is never fully explained, as well it shouldn't be. What Benjamin Button gives you is lots of pieces, some of them insignificant but meaningful (yes), some of them only important in that they were mentioned, and they must have been mentioned for a reason.
My favorite stories are like that because in the end, you hold all of the peices in the air and cross your eyes a bit, and you see a picture that you can't explain. And you know how I feel about explanations. The mind is quite capable of intuitively understanding some things before they get pared down into words, and we must never forget to trust that sense. Ironic, coming from me.
But they can't stop me from writing about it, can they?
First I would have to say that this ranks among one of my favorite films ever, but I think that's because it mostly matches my particular sensiblities. I came out of the theatre completely in awe, but after the post-movie glow wore off, the imperfections rose to the surface. I don't really see myself revealing spoilers here, as it's hard to spoil a movie which has no great reveal, but the criticisms may tell you more than you want to know, so I'll leave them for the end.
I've never read Fitzgerald's short story which formed the basis of this movie, but I've heard it's surprisingly short. The movie, on the other hand, is an epic 2 hours and 45 minutes in which lots of things happen but nothing really happens. That's how I like it - why all this dependence on a strictly ordered and strategically placed chain of causality? Benjamin Button is a character study, a long, sweeping tale pocked with extraordinary bit characters, ordinary magic and the mysterious gloom of de Chirico skies, lights bleeping through ocean fog, orange-lit porches and tilt-a-whirl Southern accents.
One of my favorite books is 100 Years of Solitude, for many of the same reasons. Rather than following one man over the concrete course of a lifetime, Solitude follows an entire family from what feels like the beginning of time to the very, very end. It's a sensual sort of thing, they act like real people but they feel like gods, their lives are both petty and catasophic, characters drift in and out like ghosts through a vacant room. Many of the characters have the same name, which gets really confusing, and I have no idea how Gabriel Garcia Marquez pulled it off.
But I read an interview with Marquez once, and I'll never forget this. He said that his grandmother told stories with matter-of-fact simplicity, but the stories themselves were so impossible, and that, he felt, was the best way to treat to fantastical - to never blink, to never give pause, to never aggrandize. 100 Years is one of the definitive examples of magical realism, and Benjamin Button borrows all of its virtues.
I love it, for example, that those who know Benjamin either accept his condition unflinchingly or fail to notice it. Brad Pitt does an amazing job - I really don't think I've ever seen him do a better one. I would love to know how they did all of the age effects (does anyone know?) because it was quite a feat creating a shriveled old man with a recognizable Brad-face. I wouldn't be surprised if that was a different actor with prosthetics. He must have had body doubles, and there was certainly an abundance of full-body shots where his face was tactfully shrouded. It's just...the transition was so graceful and fluid. They've got to win some kind of award for that. Everyone said it couldn't be done, and I'm usually not one to remark on the technical details, but it's just awesome. But I digress.
The story also comes with its own Melquiades, its own pseudo-omniscient puppeteer man. There's a short, sort of anecdotal story about a blind master clock-maker who made his clock to run backwards so that he may rewind time and bring his son back alive from the Great War. It's understood that through some mythical quirk, Benjamin was affected by the clock. This is never fully explained, as well it shouldn't be. What Benjamin Button gives you is lots of pieces, some of them insignificant but meaningful (yes), some of them only important in that they were mentioned, and they must have been mentioned for a reason.
My favorite stories are like that because in the end, you hold all of the peices in the air and cross your eyes a bit, and you see a picture that you can't explain. And you know how I feel about explanations. The mind is quite capable of intuitively understanding some things before they get pared down into words, and we must never forget to trust that sense. Ironic, coming from me.
But definitely, definitely go see it. You won't get bored. Tilda Swinton will be there too!
There were problems, too. I have them in white, so just highlight if you don't mind the slightly spoilerish non-spoilers. You can still see the white text, but hey, it's indiscernible enough that you won't accidentally read something you don't want to.
1. The hummingbird that appears after a death. I agree with Ali, it's dumb. It is interesting, however that they chose a hummingbird, the only bird that can fly backwards or hover, and is completely unbound by the forward motion of flight.
2. I don't see why he had to leave Daisy in the end. His expressed reason is that he didn't want his daughter to have a child for a father, and that he didn't want Daisy to have to raise them both. That's bull. I would have believed it if he had expressed any anguish, or experienced any hardship at all in his life because of his condition, but he didn't. Before the stupid, so-called altruistic move of abandoning his wife and kid, Benjamin's life had appeared pretty consistently hunky-dory. If he really loved Daisy he would have worked it out. It seems completely improbable and unmotivated, to say the least.
3. Their 12-year-old daughter Caroline? BAD casting choice.
4. Daisy apparently gets old by wearing heavier eyeliner.
5. The Magnolia-esque aside that describes the whole process leading to Daisy getting hit by a taxi. Interesting, but sort of out-of-place. I can accept it, I guess. It was a cool sequence. It just felt tangential.
And that's my two cents.
There were problems, too. I have them in white, so just highlight if you don't mind the slightly spoilerish non-spoilers. You can still see the white text, but hey, it's indiscernible enough that you won't accidentally read something you don't want to.
1. The hummingbird that appears after a death. I agree with Ali, it's dumb. It is interesting, however that they chose a hummingbird, the only bird that can fly backwards or hover, and is completely unbound by the forward motion of flight.
2. I don't see why he had to leave Daisy in the end. His expressed reason is that he didn't want his daughter to have a child for a father, and that he didn't want Daisy to have to raise them both. That's bull. I would have believed it if he had expressed any anguish, or experienced any hardship at all in his life because of his condition, but he didn't. Before the stupid, so-called altruistic move of abandoning his wife and kid, Benjamin's life had appeared pretty consistently hunky-dory. If he really loved Daisy he would have worked it out. It seems completely improbable and unmotivated, to say the least.
3. Their 12-year-old daughter Caroline? BAD casting choice.
4. Daisy apparently gets old by wearing heavier eyeliner.
5. The Magnolia-esque aside that describes the whole process leading to Daisy getting hit by a taxi. Interesting, but sort of out-of-place. I can accept it, I guess. It was a cool sequence. It just felt tangential.
And that's my two cents.
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13 comments:
I've heard that the aging process is done through adding prosthetic saggy cheeks or general droopy skin. It's applied almost like a mask except that there are breathing points around the increases so that the entire thing moves and looks believable. Of course, I haven't seen the movie so I have no idea if they used that process or if I could even identify it for that matter. You're so lucky to have been able to see an early screening!
It's not the face that befuddles me, it's the body. You'll see what I mean!
I've been throwing this one around in my head a lot since I saw it and am, sadly, not a fan as much as I wanted to love it. I'm not supposed to write anything about it till Monday (which, I know, is silly because I'm not doing a site review and no one at Paramount reads my LJ, but I almost want to see it again first).
I thought it was one of the most perfect films I've ever seen in terms of production, but found the plotting a little absent. Someone described it (which I quite liked) as "Stanley Kubrick's 'Forrest Gump'" and my first reaction was, "That sounds amazing!" Now I sort of know what he meant.
But I'll put it all into more solid thoughts, first.
You know, I thought of Forest Gump too. Even though there were plot-related things I didn't like, I did like the relative *absence* of it. What did you think about number 2 and 5 in my little list?
You know, I thought of Forest Gump too. Even though there were plot-related things I didn't like, I did like the relative *absence* of it. What did you think about number 2 and 5 in my little list?
dammit, why does it keep posting me twice?
2 and 5 are big issues for me, especially 2. Not only is there no reason leave Daisy, his next scene is a strange narration about how "It's never to late to have an exciting life!" and he then returns later to be completely vindicated with Cate Blanchett saying, "You were right to leave."
I almost loved the chain of events scene, but it completely blew its subtlety. Cutting from the "this didn't happen" to the hospital would have been great, but there was no reason to tag on the "But it did turn out this way."
On the "Forrest Gump" front, I was surprised to find out that it's the same writer, which is pretty odd. It sort of bothers me that, in 80 years of history, there's no real conflict in terms of racism or political upheaval. WWII is just sort of an adventure he goes on.
The original script (which never, outside of the conceit, bears much of resemblance to the short story) was apparently a history of jazz through Benjamin's eyes, echoing Fitzgerald's own life.
Another thing that bugged me: Hurricane Katrina. For a script that goes to such lengths to avoid pop-culture (or, even, culture. Does Benjamin have any interests or personality or hobbies?) it felt out of place. I really thought there was some big metaphor that was going over my head and asked the producers why they went that route. The official word was "We already contracted to shoot in New Orleans and had to mention it somehow."
It kind of bothers me, too, that the whole aging backwards thing is a science-fictioney idea that I feel sort of goes to waste. Would anything in the actual plot change if he wasn't aging backwards?
The last bit of the taxi sequence bothered me too, and so did Katrina. They really didn't have to mention it. No one would have stoned them. In fact, it might have been nice to remember the city without some great sense of disaster tacked on, for once. God, why am I still awake?
Have you seen "My Winnipeg" yet? I'm completely in love with that film and it's probably my favorite of the year.
NO but I REALLY want to!
It is -- for some silly reason -- currently a "Blockbuster Exclusive" rental. Likewise, "Mister Lonely" which I have yet to see but, despite a lot of negative reviews, thinks sounds pretty nifty.
I haven't seen the movie, but I've read the short story. I don't like Fitzgerald, but his Benjamin Button story is nearly perfect, and it is insanely short. I can imagine Fincher, Blanchett and Pitt do an amazing job, but I'll forever compare it to one of the few works I truly appreciate by Fitzgerald. I can, however, recognize that it's wonderful that such a critically applauded film starts with such a great work.
In other news, have you seen Slumdog Millionaire yet? I will ask this question until you do. Because, in my opinion, it's nearly perfect, complete and intricate. It's a British man telling the story of an Indian Man on an originally American show. It crosses boundaries.
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