Showing posts with label Finn Woodlock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Finn Woodlock. Show all posts

Sunday 8 July 2012

Another The Hunter

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2012
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


9 July

* Contains spoilers *
This is one with Willem Dafoe, not Rafi Pitts (The Hunter (2010)), though there may be similarities.
We are shown, early on, that Dafoe's character, Martin David, is supposed to have traits of what is understood in film circles (e.g. As Good as it Gets (1997)) to be OCD. (I know someone about whom another thought that the acronym stood for her Obsessive Cleaning Disorder.) Thankfully, by now, Channel 4 - in its Channel 4 Goes Mad season - might have cleared that up.
Therefore we should not be surprised that, when he flies to Hobart and arrives at his base for his mission (the chaotic home of Lucy (Frances O'Connor) and her two children, near the settlement of Cascade), he is horrified by the state of the bath - and, suitably armed from the stores, blitzes it with feeling.
Moment of truth: As if Martin would choose to work where, all over the world, he is roughing it in the wild and not have come across similar squalor in the bases with which he is provided, but perhaps not have had any readily available means of clearing it up. (The novel from which this is taken might have explained, but it was written by Julia Leigh, the same Leigh who brought us what, for me, was a sterile experience in Sleeping Beauty (2011)...)
What is almost better is that the way in which the film is directed, much of the time, fails to spell things out (the link with The Hunter (2010)) , but then it does feel it necessary to leave hefty clues in mental-health territory (and this is a film all about Territory, a redeeming feature):
For example, an unmissable packet of Xanax on Lucy's bedside table, or her later* telling Martin about her missing husband's busy mental-life, and that she believed that her husband believed in what he was frightened of. That in addition to what we have been shown about a neurotically fastidious Martin, and the unspeaking Jamie** (Finn Woodlock), who, for some reason, was silent in the language of words, but not really (more later, when he does talk).

That said, Lucy's daughter, Katie (Sass, at just one point, but credited under that name by IMDb, and played energetically by Morgana Davies) and Jamie / Bike have informed Martin that there is an outside dunny, so God knows how he ever does deal with that! For he is shown, when first entering the bar (after the shock of the house and then seeking a room there instead), going there to use the toilet, but being required to pay for the first of two non-thirst-quenching drinks, which is so because he is greeted by the logger rednecks, champing to bulldoze down the forest.
Whatever Martin does to satisfy his bodily needs, during and between his twelve-day forays (in the latter times, he returns to Julia’s house (bungalow?). Katie and Jamie initially encounter Martin when he has just opened the door of Julia’s room, and found her prone and asleep: at this moment, because of the time of day, it is clear enough that this is going to turn out to be the sleep of escape, and that Julia will be experiencing some mental-health issue.
They then regularly walk into his room without knocking, call his choral or operatic choices of music shouting, and nose around and ask questions. Love at first sight, in another moment of truth, as Martin comes to value Julia's family and family life. The fastidiousness seems somehow gone (submerged?), and we are meant to view this hardened loner as softened up - a Damascus moment, which informs the rest of the trajectory, but without any obvious road to it, or, otherwise put, any impelling reason to think that any of this can really be new, unlessgenuinely the scales have dropped.


This film, to be palatable, does rely heavily on the very well-done cinematography of beautiful landscapes, which distract us from the fact that we are otherwise just in Tasmanian forest and wilderness with Dafoe, and the little that he really gets up to is honestly not all that interesting (possibly because, unlike Bear Grylls, pretending to be alone, and telling us what 'you would' do, if you chose to be in the ridiculous scrapes with which he is involved, he has no need to tell anyone why he sets this or that trap, etc.).

Early on, he shoots a kangaroo, but doing so turns out not to be for food, however, as he throws the carcass away, and we then see what I took to be two of the Tasmanian Devils - which he is supposedly there, as his cover story, to study - eating it. Maybe he wanted them to eat that meat rather than his. (Later, we see him bait traps with parts of the organs from when he gutted the creature.) Somehow, though, the disparate acts do not match one's notion of a man surviving in the wild by his own wits - for all the haunted looks and stalking around, it was as if some alienation effect deliberately brought me back to the fact that this was Willem, not Martin.

As to Dafoe eating, we have a moment or two of him consuming something unidentifiable from a billy-can, but only forty minutes in. We know, actually, very little about his eating other than in one meal cooked by Julia, and one seemingly cooked by him, and it is not possible to say what he eats of what is on his plate. It is also not that he does not drink, as he twice orders non-beneficial beer (and it is impossible to say why he braves the loggers again to order the second one, except to set up a confrontation), but he refuses the Shiraz that Julia offers, and Katie says that Martin drinks tea.

All in all, for all that his principal, Redleaf (too much like red bush?), is made out to seem shadowy, what Martin does all the time seems patently mercenary, and Redleaf seems no more like a player behind the scenes than he a hunter than what he is searching for real. Again, all at a remove - maybe a clever remove, because, with Leigh's direction (and screenplay), I was bored to tears, but that is belied by sentimentality (not leastleading to and at the end):

Yes, predictably, Martin has one of those moments of hesitation. Unfortunately, because (in the implausible way in which such plots all too often unfold) he is (really for the first time, like Tom Baker in Genesis of the Daleks?), at the age of 55+, in a situation where he can no longer believe in what he has been hired to do...
Watch out for a blue flask and see it, if you can, as a totem, a sacramental vessel, a memory, but maybe just another bright visual cliché (you know the sort, if you try), which is actually a rather lazy linkage, meant to tie things up when the corresponding facts suggest more a Drive-type You can run, but you can't hide! form of resolution.

End-notes
* When Martin has cured her by the expedient (he's just off hunting again for the best part of two weeks) of instructing the children that she does not need this (and two other pill-boxes, whose contents remain unknown, but, just possibly, a sleeping tablet)).
** Or is his 'real' name Bike, as the credits suggest?