So, I finally watched the movie I had been waiting for all year. And there's a good chance that you might've not even heard of it. It's called Only God Forgives, a gloriously angry movie about loyalty, morality and, uh, mothers. And before you hawk and hurl a million questions at me, I'd have to state that it was booed loudly by the audience at its Cannes premiere. And that's where I start hunting for a different kind of cinema. Because the legend goes that any movie, any movie, that gets catcalled at Cannes turns out to be a pretty good cinematic experience.
But that wasn't where I first heard of it, no siree. The first trailer, released two months before its Cannes premiere, had me psyched. And after that, I wasn't left with much choice. This is the medical condition which doctors term as getting Refn'ed. And while watching a Nicolas Winding Refn film, you've got to anticipate when to keep your eyes open and when to keep 'em closed. Because if you don't, well, you'll see some poor sod getting his eyes gouged out at some point in the movie.
So, Only God Forgives kicks off with an English gangster, Billy (Tom Burke), whetting his fetish for violence and murder and brutally slaughtering an underage prostitute. And one cop, Lt. Chang, gets the wind of the crime and arrives at the crime scene. Now, Chang (played by Thai actor Vithaya Pansringarm) ain't your usual cop. He's sadistic and he has his own way of doing things. He's dangerous, he's eerie, he's The Angel Of Vengeance. He's earned that sobriquet, by the way. How, you come to know in his first scene. Calm, composed and resolved, he calls the father of the murdered girl and tells him to do whatever he wishes with Billy. He has a cup of tea while the livid father obviously butchers Billy to death - and I'm skimming over the hyperboles here - and then cuts off the father's hand in an act of morality. Whoo, that's way too much violence for the first thirty minutes.
Julian (Ryan Gosling) hears of it and lets the father go. Julian's a quieter version of his dead brother. Angry, silent, cold and calculating, he talks when he wants to talks and listens when he wants to listen. Yep, he's the Driver from Drive, a film in which Refn gave us a David vs Goliath in modern day Los Angeles. He's vying for something bigger here, something that hasn't been attempted before, unless, of course, by Quentin Tarantino.
So, Julian's a weird guy. He slams a whisky glass in the face of an innocent customer in a nightclub, breaks his thighbone and beats the crap out of him. Why? Because he's angry, he's misunderstood and he's fucking weird, that's why. He's obsessed with Chang, the God, and he can't do anything. Not against Chang anyway. His mother, Crystal (the excellent Kristin Scott Thomas), arrives to see her first son's body. She's incensed to find out that Julian's doesn't want to avenge his brother's death and even more so when she finds out that the guy who's actually behind it fearlessly walks the streets of Bangkok. She's a woman with a mission, a foul-mouthed, seething godmother who decides to take care of it. She ridicules her son, his girlfriend Mai (Rhatha Phongam), whose name she pronounces as May, calls her names, cum-Dumpster being one of them, and jeers at her son for being a wimp. She goes after the ruthless Chang, who wants a reason to keep the streets clean, but when it's in the hands of Crystal, it's personal.
Refn encompasses his movies with a certain mood that's evident throughout. Vivid, esoteric, nightmarish, Only God Forgives uses the dark well. Cinematographer Larry Smith, a Kubrick colleague, knows his way around the camera. Tastefully shot and visually striking, there's a lot of eye-candy here. Bangkok has never been as sinister nor as exciting. It's a living, breathing character, no less.
After my viewing of Only God Forgives, I tried to decipher the reason why people didn't accept it. Maybe because it was pretentious, trying to be an art film and trying to fashion violence like poetry, but that just didn't seem right. It's artsy, alright, but I can't classify it as as art film. It's high on the beautifully ethnic score by Cliff Martinez, a rousing winner, but no, still not an art film. Maybe it was because the whole idea was abstract, the dialogue idiosyncratic and the characters were, uh, characters.
Contrary to all notions you might have, I loved the movie. I found it to be an incredible experience, a little disturbing perhaps but fantastically crafted with an eye for style. It's not as good as Drive but it's still a damn good movie. I loved the brawl sequence with Martinez's Wanna Fight playing over, how it ended with yet another classy song You're My Dream, how diabolical the movie is and how engaging it ends up being. It's intensely fascinating, really.
Only God Forgives may not be the best movie of the year but it's certainly one of the ballsiest. Pure guts and skill make this an experience to be had, a movie that's so radically different from a filmmaker who wants to be unusual. It's utterly absurd and yet it makes a lot of sense. Watch it, sit through it and make your day.
But that wasn't where I first heard of it, no siree. The first trailer, released two months before its Cannes premiere, had me psyched. And after that, I wasn't left with much choice. This is the medical condition which doctors term as getting Refn'ed. And while watching a Nicolas Winding Refn film, you've got to anticipate when to keep your eyes open and when to keep 'em closed. Because if you don't, well, you'll see some poor sod getting his eyes gouged out at some point in the movie.
So, Only God Forgives kicks off with an English gangster, Billy (Tom Burke), whetting his fetish for violence and murder and brutally slaughtering an underage prostitute. And one cop, Lt. Chang, gets the wind of the crime and arrives at the crime scene. Now, Chang (played by Thai actor Vithaya Pansringarm) ain't your usual cop. He's sadistic and he has his own way of doing things. He's dangerous, he's eerie, he's The Angel Of Vengeance. He's earned that sobriquet, by the way. How, you come to know in his first scene. Calm, composed and resolved, he calls the father of the murdered girl and tells him to do whatever he wishes with Billy. He has a cup of tea while the livid father obviously butchers Billy to death - and I'm skimming over the hyperboles here - and then cuts off the father's hand in an act of morality. Whoo, that's way too much violence for the first thirty minutes.
Julian (Ryan Gosling) hears of it and lets the father go. Julian's a quieter version of his dead brother. Angry, silent, cold and calculating, he talks when he wants to talks and listens when he wants to listen. Yep, he's the Driver from Drive, a film in which Refn gave us a David vs Goliath in modern day Los Angeles. He's vying for something bigger here, something that hasn't been attempted before, unless, of course, by Quentin Tarantino.
So, Julian's a weird guy. He slams a whisky glass in the face of an innocent customer in a nightclub, breaks his thighbone and beats the crap out of him. Why? Because he's angry, he's misunderstood and he's fucking weird, that's why. He's obsessed with Chang, the God, and he can't do anything. Not against Chang anyway. His mother, Crystal (the excellent Kristin Scott Thomas), arrives to see her first son's body. She's incensed to find out that Julian's doesn't want to avenge his brother's death and even more so when she finds out that the guy who's actually behind it fearlessly walks the streets of Bangkok. She's a woman with a mission, a foul-mouthed, seething godmother who decides to take care of it. She ridicules her son, his girlfriend Mai (Rhatha Phongam), whose name she pronounces as May, calls her names, cum-Dumpster being one of them, and jeers at her son for being a wimp. She goes after the ruthless Chang, who wants a reason to keep the streets clean, but when it's in the hands of Crystal, it's personal.
Refn encompasses his movies with a certain mood that's evident throughout. Vivid, esoteric, nightmarish, Only God Forgives uses the dark well. Cinematographer Larry Smith, a Kubrick colleague, knows his way around the camera. Tastefully shot and visually striking, there's a lot of eye-candy here. Bangkok has never been as sinister nor as exciting. It's a living, breathing character, no less.
After my viewing of Only God Forgives, I tried to decipher the reason why people didn't accept it. Maybe because it was pretentious, trying to be an art film and trying to fashion violence like poetry, but that just didn't seem right. It's artsy, alright, but I can't classify it as as art film. It's high on the beautifully ethnic score by Cliff Martinez, a rousing winner, but no, still not an art film. Maybe it was because the whole idea was abstract, the dialogue idiosyncratic and the characters were, uh, characters.
Only God Forgives may not be the best movie of the year but it's certainly one of the ballsiest. Pure guts and skill make this an experience to be had, a movie that's so radically different from a filmmaker who wants to be unusual. It's utterly absurd and yet it makes a lot of sense. Watch it, sit through it and make your day.
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