Ten years back a marvelous film called The Dreamlife of Angels hit me like two tons of bricks. That director is going places, I said. Then he vanished. I heard rumblings about this film (if I may drop names) when I was shmoozing with Tilda Swinton on the red carpet for Michael Clayton (yeah, I’m a dick sometimes.) Anyway, the movie is a doozy. It’s not all good, but it is big.
If Swinton didn’t already win the Oscar for Clayton she’d be a shoo-in this time. Frankly, she still may have a solid chance. Channeling Gena Rowlands (Julia is a kinda-sorta update/adaptation of Gloria, although the performance is more A Woman Under The Influence) Swinton’s drunk floozy with the flat American accent is an absolute joy to watch. Even though there are no jokes, it is funny stuff.
No jokes, indeed. Julia plays like Fargo but straight. It’s the world’s most inept kidnapping job that devolves into utter chaos. The last act featured just one too many reversals (or symbolic crashes through boundaries) for my taste, but it is this far-fetched element that makes the movie truly epic.
It’s annoying at times – and slow at the beginning – but a movie worth seeing.
