More Fortitude than a Repentant Christian Wife Beater
With his quiet Russian mafiaso drama, Eastern Promises, David Cronenberg waltzes atop film snobs
image courtesy of Focus Features
Whatever else it may be, Eastern Promises is an organized crime picture, and comports itself quite well amongst its predecessors. There is even a shout-out to one of the best contemporary Hong Kong gangster movies, proving required homework was done to see who is doing what with similar material these days. The conventions of the genre are present but never feel like a retread as much as inevitable aspects of the lifestyle. Certainly no western film based on Russian gangsters can compete with this impeccably researched gem of a genre-piece, which almost breaks from its mold entirely several times—only to settle comfortably back into place. The films stands in stark contrast to such tripe as The Departed, and proves that a delicate hand is better for believably making characters come to life rather than simply spraying the audience down with blood and then tacking on a cheesy pseudo-happy ending. While Eastern Promises is indubitably more optimistic than many films of the same genre it maintains the hard edge needed to distance it from Hollywood’s stylized world of pretty boys with bad accents playing lovable villains. Much has been made of a sequence in a bath house, which detractors are quick to condemn as pointless or grotesque. Considering the importance of birth in the film, that the scene arrives when it does and the imagery Cronenberg chooses elevate the immaculately choreographed scene to one of the most pivotal, emotionally involving and symbolism-rich points in the entire movie. Birth is always painful, both for mother and child, and if this is too subtle for anybody who has seen the film I suggest they go on a steady diet of Michael Mann spectacles and Pixar kiddie garbage and leave the real movie watching to the adults. Cronenberg is a very talented director, yet “subtle” is a word that rarely comes up when discussing his work with people who know the first thing about cinema. Quibbles? Yeah, sure, I had a few. Personally, I like it when Cronenberg writes his own material as it tends to be a bit punchier. A couple of plot holes could have been stitched up without too much difficulty, and plausibility maybe wore a little thin on occasion. You know what? I could give a fuck. Of all the horror director icons now kicking it at the top of the marquee, Cronenberg remains the most consistent in his ability to make entertaining, complex films. He is a wild mother-bitch who is as likely to talk to a creepy mask while starring in a Clive Barker flick as he is to direct Genevieve Bujold into bed with multiple Jeremy Ironses—and I don’t say that about just anyone. Almost everything clicks, and what doesn’t is not going to bother anyone but sour cunts. You want technical? I do technical. Howard Shore’s soundtrack adds the perfect ambience to each scene, the composer equally comfortable with the eerie and the upbeat after working with the director for so long. The cinematography is impeccable, with the framing of even seemingly bland shots displaying an intense degree of forethought and planning. The sets and setting are detailed without being overdone, and as in A History of Violence, the physical spaces families share are as meticulously examined as the characters themselves. The unobtrusive quality of Croneneberg’s directorial style has earned him barbs from certain critics, but Eastern Promises displays the power of his technique to full effect, conjuring up the novels of the Russian realists in its beguiling simplicity—a simplicity which, not unlike Dostoyevsky, masks a very honed purpose and fully-realized vision. Even at this point in his career Cronenberg remains humble and amazingly unpretentious for someone who describes himself as an artist. His obsession with the human body and all of its secrets has veered away from the physical and focused on the mental and emotional for his last three outings, but this has not made for a less rewarding experience at the movies. While I would certainly be thrilled if he decided to take another stroll down Bizzaro-Transmogrification Way, I for one am pleased with his decision to highlight a different sort of horror, even if it is, well, shit-damn, of a more subtle caliber. In light of his most recent creation, David Cronenberg has kept the promise of his early days with a degree of fortitude unknown to even the most repentant Christian wife beater.
|
