Cloud Atlas

It goes to show you how malleable a thing expectation can be, especially when it comes to film.  I recently bemoaned being compelled to see Cloud Atlas for the people involved because I was certain I would find its plaintive treatise on the interconnectedness of mankind to be too cloying and syrupy.  Two viewings later, never would I have imagined I would be so taken by the movie, altered even.  My very soul feels energized, sizzling with a revitalized love for cinema, for art, for music, for mankind, for the very planet I live on.  I feel genuinely excited for the future of film.  I feel like I want to be a more open minded and loving person.  Cloud Atlas is such a good film, it's inspired me to strive to become a better human being. 

I don't feel the need (as I often do with films I fall so deeply in love with) to rebut the many arguments of its detractors.  It's just that wonderful to me.  The complaints others have expressed simply strike me as more examples of its innumerable strengths.  I love that it wears its heart on its sleeve and plainly states its earnest, altruistic themes without a hint of irony.  I adore its total lack of subterfuge, the up front manner it extols its humanist message.  The actors donning outrageous make-ups and essaying multiple characters is not distracting to me in the least, nor do I find anything remotely problematic about the race and gender bending.  It's all wholly liberating and ingeniously theatrical, making the film riotously playful and unexpectedly emotionally resonant.  Simply put, the cumulative effect of the film absolutely devastated me.  I was reduced to tears on multiple occasions both viewings and have been able to think of nothing else since first laying eyes on it. 

The manner in which Cloud Atlas is narratively constructed is no mere gimmick or coy exercise.  On the contrary, it's emblematic of a necessary evolution in the language of cinematic storytelling.  This is where movies need to go.  As usual, the Wachowski's are about 15 years ahead of the curve.  Our brains are able to process more information now than ever and desire to be challenged with making thematic connections between (seemingly) disparate subject matter.  Hollywood boils that down to a lot of loud music, flashy effects and quick cuts.  The Wachowski's and Tykwer have presented us with a new template for artistic expression through cinema.  This isn't stories being told out of chronological order or backwards or any such commonplace narrative obfuscation.  This is multiple stories across multiple times, being told simultaneously.  Essentially, we the audience, are gifted with the ability to see the world how Dr. Manhattan does and it is exhilarating. 

The way that themes, actors, ideas, phrases, relationships and music ebb, flow, recur and course through this film as lifeblood undulating through endless tributaries is like nothing I've ever seen.  A story taking place in 2144 neo-Seoul will find it's emotional payoff in 1849 San Francisco.  A throwaway joke in 2012 London will then become a shattering statement of personal conviction in said future.  The primary cast is uniformly remarkable and given a creative opportunity previously unimaginable.  The fashion this film affords the actors to explore recurring archetypes and human interaction is so audaciously conceived and magnificently executed, I can scarcely believe it was pulled off.  We live in an era where the prevailing logic would be to motion capture the performances and use digital tools to paint over everything, entirely stripping the human element from the equation.  Tykwer and the Wachowski's wisely have opted to instead employ involved make-ups and retain the humanity of the performance.  The believability of this sprawling world hinges on its characters interaction.  For all the technical bluster and innovation of the picture, at its core beats a human heart.   Proudly, enthusiastically and tangibly.

As I previously stated, all the performances are phenomenal, but I'd like to single out a few that profoundly affected me.  Jim Broadbent is a revelation in this.  From the casual malice of the salty sea captain to the vain desperation of Vyvian Ayers to the the hilarious hyperbole of poor old Timothy Cavendish, he's never short of magnetic and often astonishing.  Just watching his eyes alone in any given scene can be an intimidating master class in character construction.  Take special note of his wistful revelry at the train station.  What a beautiful moment.  The triumphant escape of him and his cohorts from Aurora house is the most uplifting moment I've seen in a film in years thanks largely to his palpable ebullience.

Hugo Weaving is the best there is at playing evil white men and good god does he turn it up to 11 in this.  He even throws in a woman with the delicious Nurse Noakes.  His vocal talent is so prodigious that he convincingly portrays her feminine voice despite possessing such a recognizable, rumbling baritone.    Bill Smoke is as cold and despicable as a man can get, but it's his Old Georgie I found most captivating.  An invention of pure menace, preying upon the beleaguered Zachary, hounding him without reprieve.  The demon whispering bad thoughts into mankind's ear and twisting its will to his wicked whims.  I just could not get enough of this character and every time he was onscreen, I could feel my breath being stolen away as I sat, rapt with attention yet terrified all the same.  What a creation!  The way he's shot and framed is so perfect, I could go on for days celebrating it. 

Lastly: Apparently High Grant is a fucking genius and I'm just finding this out now?  He gives Weaving a run for his money with the evil white man schtick here.  The films most interesting juxtaposition in my eyes is the one between his corporate predators of the past and modern world and the cannibalistic tribe leader of the ruined future.  It seems a logical extension of the mindset, but to see it cast in such extreme relief is incredible and awful to behold.  I never thought I'd type these words, but, Hugh Grant is flat out amazing in this film. 

Of course Hanks is a treat and Halle Berry is surprisingly good.  The emotional resonance of the film lies however with the romantic pairings of Jim Sturgess and Doona Bae, Ben Whishaw and James Darcy.  Their relationships are beautifully rendered and lovingly realized.  As I said, everybody is great in this and all offer very specific and equally necessary things.  Special mention also needs be made of the score, which I highly recommend picking up to help support the film.  It's simply transcendent and impossibly evocative of the movie and its myriad motifs and emotions, truly great stuff. 

Cloud Atlas is something very special to me, a lifelong love affair that has just begun.  Its box office failure is certainly dispiriting, but I'm frankly shocked something so bizarre and byzantine made it to the multiplex in the first place.  I am eternally grateful I was able to see this on a huge screen with fantastic sound.  I implore anyone reading this who hasn't seen the film to give it a chance, and those who've seen it, to patronize it again.  It opens up immeasurably on second viewing, becoming much more understandable in regards to both its boundary exploding structure and its intermittently obtuse linguistics.  There's enough, heart, warmth, humor, beauty, ugliness, horror, desolation and hope in Cloud Atlas for 10 films.  It's one of those rare movies that can stake an honest claim to "having it all".