So there's a new movie out this week by Tarsem, the director of The Cell and many music videos. You probably won't find it playing anywhere but groovy, small independent theaters, which is a shame, but if it's anywhere near you, seek it out and see it. If you enjoyed the trippy visuals of The Cell, but didn't enjoy the Jennifer Lopez parts of it, you'll definitely enjoy The Fall. If you enjoyed Pan's Labyrinth and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, you'll definitely enjoy The Fall; it splits the difference between the two.
It's set in California at the beginning of the motion picture industry. A young girl, a migrant fieldworker, is hospitalized with a broken arm. At the hospital, she meets a twentysomething man who was injured on the set of a movie -- though she doesn't understand that his injury was actually a suicide attempt. The man tells the girl a fantastic, Arabian nights/american tall tale story, and we see the story as it's filtered through the girl's imagination. As the story progresses, we learn more about the girl and the man and the way they relate to each other.
The movie has absolutely stunning visuals, but they're not just an end unto themselves: the fantasy sequences are absolutely in service of the "real-world" story and the characters. This is no sterile parade of images; it has a vibrant, beating heart that breaks and mends itself through the course of the narrative.
The reviews for this film have been frustrating. Like The Fountain, Lady in the Water, and Donnie Darko -- all movies I thought were incredible -- you get two types of reviews. The first is the cynical, hip reviewer who doesn't know what to do with a movie that is equal parts batshit insane and incredibly sincere. If it were just batshit insane, they'd praise it (lest they be found wanting in their cool hipness) -- witness the praise heaped on the sterile nonsense of Mulholland Drive, for example. But because The Fall actually has compassion for its characters, and dares to make big statements about heroism, love, and healing, it simply isn't cool to praise it. Instead, you have to rant about how the filmmaker's ego runs rampant on the screen: how dare Tarsem think he can tell us anything about the human condition? How dare he take big risks with image and story, even if those risks pay off? How dare he bring tears to my eyes? What a bastard. These reviewers are people who are burned out on movies in general, if you ask me. If you're unable to surrender yourself to the experience of a movie this masterfully crafted, you need a break.
The other type of review that pisses me off for a movie like this is the lazy review. For example, take this genius critic: "It doesn't make a bit of sense. And after a while, even pretty images become boring when there's nobody in them we care about." I remember similar criticism for Donnie Darko, and all that means is that the critic is unconscionably lazy. Folks, if it's your job to review movies -- if you're the lucky douchebag who gets PAID to do so, it behooves you to pay a modicum of attention to what's going on on-screen. It's not a hard story to follow, it's just slightly unconventional, and it heavily rewards the merest bit of attention paid.
Roger Ebert doesn't always get it right, but his review is spot-on; see for yourself.
The film is rated R for a few gory scenes -- this isn't the kind of fantasy where someone gets shot with an arrow and doesn't bleed. It's not as scary or as violent as Pan's Labyrinth, though, and of the same caliber. Go see it if you get a chance -- like Pan's Labyrinth or The Fountain, you'll kick yourself for missing it on the big screen.
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