Tuesday 26 February 2013

Cloud Atlas (2012)

Tom Tykwer and the Wachowskis' ambitious joint-undertaking to bring to the screen David Mitchell's multi-stranded, epoch-straddling tale, has produced a striking but unwieldy behemoth of a movie. Long on invention, melodrama and scale... Perhaps shorter on discipline and a clear through-line of narrative purpose.

Pulling apart the symmetrical structure of the source novel and re-integrating its six storylines in a complex but still clearly delineated collage of characters and events is one of the project's more successful elements. There is a singularity of vision at work here that belies the portmanteau directorial approach, with the Wachowskis surprisingly tackling the quietly mannered tale of a 19th century sea voyage alongside the more obvious home turf of the two future-set sci-fi sections. Meanwhile the more art-house predisposed Tom Tykwer makes a solid stab at a dirty '70s thiller as well as the more restrained tones of his delicate inter-war period love story.

The film's major talking point has been the many multi-role performances by nearly all the principle cast. It is at once one of its strongest, and yet most flawed features. Let's get one non-issue out of the way: The minor controversy stirred up around a predominantly white cast playing other races is entirely bogus. There is a clear, one might even say vital, thematic purpose (even if narratively a tad obscure) to this decision, and it should also be noted that this is equal opportunities trans-ethnicity, with Black playing Asian and Asian playing Caucasian in the mix, before we even get started on the gender and age switching. It's a logical and often entertaining device that ties the disparate threads together. However, it is also highly distracting. Some of the more extreme make-over's are frankly just not very good. Fake, stiff and sometimes am-dram silly. Surprisingly poorly executed for a film with a substantial budget and directors experienced in period work and fantasy. This, coupled with some very shoddy accents results in the viewer frequently being pulled out of the drama for a few minutes of "oh its him again, you know, what's-his-face from that other chapter". Hugo Weaving gets a particularly short stick, bouncing from pantomime Nurse Ratched, via Mr Spock eyebrows to a painted, top-hatted shamanistic apparition that will incite guffaws of disbelief from anyone familiar with The Mighty Boosh. Possibly the first time in history that a film has sequelled its own spoof.

Not surprisingly then the most affecting segments are those that allow the actors to work largely free of such novelty. Halle Berry's intrepid San Francisco reporter, Doona Bae's tragic future-world slave replicant, and perhaps most touching and subtly played, the distant, clandestine affair of a young composer and his physicist lover provide the movie with at least some of the emotional centre of gravity it needs to hold the wilder elements in place.

The joy and frustration of Cloud Atlas is that when it is good, such as in those segments above, it has to abandon the threads too swiftly,  leaving you craving to be immersed more in those characters and stories. When it is bad, (Tom Hanks' geyserish gangster and buck-toothed surgeon, Post apocalyptic Mad Max juju speak, Last Of The Summer Wine antics in a Scottish bar), it just leaves one bewildered at the point of it all.

In spite of all this. There is something both endearing and admirable about the scale, bravery and vaulting ambition of Cloud Atlas. It's as entertaining as it is awkward, and as breathtaking as it is daft.

A Magnificent folly.

Rating: 3/5