Daniel Day-Lewis returns from his second acting retirement in Anemone, which, not coincidentally, is the feature debut of director Ronan Day-Lewis, the actor's son. The two co-wrote the script, giving the father a highly enigmatic character and the son ample scope to create a melancholic atmosphere.
These are more polite ways of saying that, at the plot level, the film is superficial at its core. It's an exercise in obfuscation through eloquent pauses, characters who often don't say what they want or need to say until much later, and so many hints at deeper ideas about guilt and trauma that one might be mistaken for believing the film actually has anything to say about them.
Director: Ronan Day-Lewis
Writers: Daniel Day-Lewis, Ronan Day-Lewis
Stars: Sean Bean, Samuel Bottomley, Lewis Ian Bray
We'll start with the dramatic pauses, because the film's introduction is essentially lengthy. In silence, we meet two men: one named Ray (Day-Lewis), who lives in a shack in the middle of the woods, completely hidden by the trees, and the other named Jem (Sean Bean). Ray goes about his daily tasks and sits in silence, while Jem says a silent goodbye to his wife, Nessa (Samantha Morton), and his twenty-something son, Brian (Samuel Bottomley).
Jem hops on a motorcycle, drives a good distance down the road, and into a forest, where he opens a note in a sealed plastic bag. It's labeled "in case of emergency" and has GPS coordinates that lead, of course, to Ray's cabin. Ray realizes who his visitor is, opens the door, leaves the axe he had ready in case any malicious intruder entered, and makes him a drink.
From there, the two men stare at each other or avoid each other's gaze for a while, and it's a great blessing that filmmaker Day-Lewis offers a painterly representation of the landscape and these faces illuminated by the minimal sunlight that enters through the windows or the glow of the gas lamps. There is, for example, a long shot of the forest, with a stretch of countryside in the foreground and storm clouds swirling above the trees, so striking that it accurately defines both the setting and the tone of the entire story. As for the actors, this cast is full of actors who know how to fill the silence with a look, a gesture, or even a small movement of the mouth that tells us, even if they don't say a word, that their minds are actively considering something.
As for what it might be, we gradually discover that Ray and Jem are brothers, that they were the children of an abusive father who instilled violence in their thoughts, and that Ray suffered abuse at the hands of a local priest. Day-Lewis delivers two long monologues: one in which he describes a real or imagined revenge against that priest, and the other in which he finally explains the story's purpose. It's fascinating to see how much the actor can bring to a completely internalized performance, but when Day-Lewis dives into those speeches, we realize how much the film has wasted his talent with so many scenes of uncertain anger and regret.
If that's the case for one of the greatest living actors, imagine how unfortunate the material is for the rest of the cast. Jem, played by Bean, for example, has convinced his brother to talk to Brian because the young man has joined the army, constantly gets into fights, and seems determined to self-destruct.
Both Jem and Ray were in the British Army during the Troubles, but no matter how hard Jem tries to convince Brian to leave, his son won't listen. That could technically be because Ray is the young man's biological father, and Jem offered to marry Nessa and raise the boy after it became clear that his brother's trip to the woods would be a permanent stay.
That makes Jem little more than a plot device, especially since his own story is only relevant in relation to Ray's. As for Nessa, Morton stands there looking forlorn about it all—something he does quite well, of course—and Brian, played by Bottomley, lies in bed, nursing his bloody knuckles and staring blankly into space, either in general or when someone asks him what he thinks. It's not just about Jem; everything and everyone in this movie revolves around Ray, what he did and why he did it, and whether or not he'll decide to talk to his son about, well, anything. It's very strange considering that the entire movie basically revolves around the possibility of some drama later on.
That's certainly not the case here, because that would require understanding who these characters are, beyond a vague idea of what they want at the moment. Anemone eventually reveals quite a bit about Ray and why he's gone into seclusion, but once Day-Lewis nails that monologue, the movie is pretty much over before any real drama can begin.
Comments
Post a Comment