Only God Forgives

The focus of Nicholas Winding Refn's ONLY GOD FORGIVES is on a series of formal revenge rituals played out in a mostly nocturnal Bangkok. The use of long silences, eerie soundscapes, and formal framing create a tone that is somewhat Lynchian, at least superficially. Unfortunately, a roster of shallow characters, their personalities more hinted at than conveyed, fail to create any emotional resonance, and place the film on a ladder way below Lynch classics such as LOST HIGHWAY or MULHOLLAND DRIVE.

Ryan Gosling plays the brother of scummy cunt murdered for raping and killing a teenage girl. Conscious of the moral dilemma thoughts of revenge raise, he opts to not take any action initially. Events beyond his influence are triggered, however, when his mother (Kristin Scott Thomas), who struggles with no moral dilemma, arrives in town to do what a psychotic mother will do.

The Bangkok constabulary are represented by Vithaya Pansringarm, a sword-wielding exterminator who believes in skipping the legal process and cutting/slashing straight to harsh punishment. He becomes embroiled in a two-sided campaign of revenge engineered by Thomas's character. Strangely, Gosling is often peripheral to the primary action, because Refn (who wrote the script) seems more interested in Pansringarm's story. This decision wastes a good actor and fractures the narrative.

Tonally, ONLY GOD FORGIVES is more VALHALLA RISING than DRIVE. It boasts few narrative surprises, and takes on a sameness that sucks it dry. In a sense, the film operates in the dead zone of a man post-ejaculation. It lacks build.

Cliff Martinez, who scored DRIVE, delivers a hypnotic score that echoes the best cues from DRIVE, and embellishes with other cues that feel like extensions of Eric Serra's score for LEON (aka THE PROFESSIONAL). The photography, by BRONSON (and FEAR X) shooter Larry Smith, is luminous, often reminiscent of the grimy nighttime vistas of John Woo's BULLET IN THE HEAD (the scenes where the hopeless 'Frank' kills for a fix come to mind).

Ultimately, ONLY GOD FORGIVES is a series of violent tableaux that are loosely connected. A fight scene between Gosling and Pansringarm is extremely brutal, as are the numerous gougings and slashings by sword. At times, Refn chooses to show us dialog while denying us its precise content -- occasionally it works, but just as often it feels like a missed opportunity to enrich the character interplay. More a welcome experiment than a satisfying ninety minutes at the movies, the film's lack of contrast (all shade and no light) creates too much distance between its auteur and its audience.

By no means a dog, ONLY GOD FORGIVES still fails to make its elements gel Refn-style, while feeling too imitative of Lynch, Wong Kar Wai, and Tran Anh Hung (CYCLO) without the pay-off of those directors' best films.

A dedication card to Alejandro Jodorowsky caps proceedings, and a thank you to Gasper Noe is also offered.

Not often that a film like this opens at a cinema five minutes' walk from my place.

Nice to see this getting a decent theatrical release.

Refn Gives Good Cinematic Fuck

 
Nicholas Winding Refn's Drive is a synthesis of gold. Its influences are things of beauty. Heat. Goodbye,Uncle Tom (the stunning song 'Oh My Love'). Le Samourai. Thief. Walter Hill's The Driver. Takeshi's Hanna-Bi. Lynch's Lost Highway. Blue Velvet, too.

There's a love story there about a caring man who wants to do right for someone who deserves it, someone who's revealed no hidden, shabby agenda. His motives don't seem selfish. They seem pure. Ryan Gosling plays him with a quietly incandescent serenity. Carey Mulligan, harboring a beautiful spirit, plays the girl. She exudes a tone that many men seek, but few can avoid adjusting.

The use of light and shade will recall Bullitt and Heat for cinephiles. For those less exposed to cinema's treasures, it will feel fresh. For mine, the influences are like velvety collisions in the dark. The styles mesh and form a truly hypnotic whole. As in a Takeshi Kitano film, the brutal emerges organically from the beautiful and serenity is briefly interrupted by violence before it dominates again. Refn's style IS the film's protagonist.

 The plot is as simple as it needs to be for the tenor the film wants to achieve. There are no contrived detours. The threads knit comfortably together, forging a taut structure.

Albert Brooks plays a bad guy who was probably once good. He lost his focus. Took a path of least resistance.  Ron Perlman, looking stunningly grotesque, plays a badder guy who never struggled with good. He exudes the exact opposite of Mulligan. He is metal distortion driven so far into your ears your eyes bleed.

Few directors resist the urge to shoot car chases as jigsaws of chaos. Refn does. One car chase, not particularly lengthy, rears up at us like an angry animal and feels like two panthers in pursuit of one another. It is staged in glorious wide shots, and we never lose track of what's where and what's being done to whom. The use of sound in this sequence is the smartest since Cobra. It blew me away.


It's a film you feel and surrender to. The elements -- music, cinematography, lighting, silence -- marry and masturbate our senses. We're being fucked beautifully. Rising and falling. Nothing else exists. As it should be.