I’ll be the first to admit it. I did not fully understand this movie, even to this day. But, while many people relish the chance to rip a movie to shreds, I usually find myself trying to find the good in every film, no matter how low the score on IMDb, Metacritic, or the awful-metric, Rotten Tomatoes.
In the case of Richard Kelly’s Sophomore effort, “Southland Tales,” the film has been critically lambasted, and thoroughly maligned by nearly every critic/filmmaker-wannabe, and entirely misunderstood by the legions of teens and adults alike who cherish Kelly’s breakthrough flick, “Donnie Darko” and were expecting a comparable film. In many ways, I think that’s where most of the film’s opposition stems from to this day — heightened expectations.
I too love “Donnie Darko,” but I also loathe the director’s cut of the very same film. How is that possible, you ask? Well, it’s simple really. Through the implementation of a series of bizarre editing choices, song changes, and some all-too-obvious passages from Roberta Sparrow’s book, “The Philosophy of Time Travel“, nearly all of the mystery and wonder that filled the original cut was lost. In a few words, I thought the “Director’s Cut” of “Donnie Darko” was a complete failure, and in many ways, my expectations for Kelly’s second film were crushed.
Had I not seen the piss-poor version of “Donnie Darko,” I don’t think I would have been prepared for the apocalyptic-musical-comedic-epic, that is “Southland Tales.” And clearly, not many people were ready for it either, else it would have fared far better at Cannes, and international box offices worldwide.
So what is it about the film that makes is so confusing, so inaccessible, or downright unlikeable that it would prompt audiences at Cannes to “boo” and “hiss” at the original cut of the film? Well, to be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure. I actually enjoyed it quite a bit, in retrospect, and having never seen the 160 minute cut of the film, I suppose I’m not inclined to speak to the effectiveness — or lack thereof — of the Cannes screening.
However, I do know that it’s imperative to approach the film with as open a mind, as you can spare. In addition, you should most definitely head into the film expecting a dark-comedy of sorts, with psychedelic musical interludes, metaphysical discussion, time travel, religious stigmata, and apocalyptic overtones on the side. If that sounds like a lot to handle, you’re probably right.
This is ultimately the fatal flaw of the film, but strangely enough, it’s one that I admire it for. Layers, upon layers of narrative material are stacked upon one another, to the point where the film begins to buckle under it’s own philosophy, character arcs, and dense storyline, and in many ways you’ll feel this very moment, when your brain reaches critical mass, and your disbelief can be suspended no more.
As I said before though, I actually admire the film in many ways. While it certainly confuses more than it informs — fans of Darko should be familiar — and there isn’t really an engaging plot to make the film worthwhile for the masses, I can’t help but find something endearing about this utter mess of a film. Maybe it’s the overarching satire of all things American that I find amusing, because it’s pointed and funny at the same time. Or perhaps my sentiment is due in large part to the grand scope of the film, which I personally find enthralling.
Unfortunately, at the end of the day, most will be quick to label this film an epic failure, but for better or worse, I’m just gonna go ahead and stick with “epic” or better yet, “misunderstood epic.” I believe the film deserves nothing less.
No comments:
Post a Comment