Review here: Robert Zemeckis’ latest sees the thrill of its ambition wearing thin too quickly

Robert ZemeckisThe film industry’s legacy is accentuated by its ambition to advance the medium and try things that others don’t even think about, let alone try. From the mix of live-action and animation Who framed Roger Rabbit to the split production of Throw it away for his run, ensconced in the world of performance capture (The Polar Express, Beowulf, A Christmas carol), his work traditionally does not settle for simple storytelling; he has shown a passion for showing audiences something on the big screen that they have never seen before.

Here

Tom Hanks and Robin Wright share a hug in the living room in Here.

(Image credit: TriStar Photos)

Release date: November 1, 2024
Directed by: Robert Zemeckis
Written by:
Eric Roth and Robert Zemeckis
Starring: Tom Hanks, Robin Wright, Paul Bettany and Kelly Reilly
Judgement:
PG-13 for thematic material, some suggestive material, brief profanity and smoking
Duration:
104 minutes

That will never be underappreciated, because that kind of creativity will forever be needed in the art form, and his latest, Hereis largely part of that tradition. It is a non-linear story set over centuries and makes extensive use of de-aging effects, but most importantly the film unfolds from a fixed perspective, capturing from one angle events taking place in one place, spread over thousands of areas. year. Adapting the visual style of writer/artist Richard McGuire’s graphic novel of the same name, the film is undeniably a striking work of cinema and one crafted with great skill – but the hook proves to lack the staying power required for 104 minutes . term. The dedication to the aesthetic is great in itself, but what actually unfolds in front of the static camera lacks the same kind of impressiveness, and it takes a major toll on the overall experience.

Written by Robert Zemeckis and Eric Roth, who memorably last worked together in 1994 Forrest Gump, HereThe story’s narrative continually jumps through time, with mini-arcs set before America’s founding, during the Revolutionary War, and in both the early 1900s and early 1900s.e and 21st centuries, but the emphasis is mainly on the Young family, who move into the house in the only place in the film in the aftermath of the Second World War.

Al (Paul Bethany) and Rose Young (Kelly Reilly) are raising their family in the home, including their eldest son Richard (Tom Hanks), and after a teenage Richard meets Margaret (Robin Wright), the girl who turns out to be the love of his life, they acquire the property and start a family of their own.

On a technical level, this is an impressive achievement.

First and foremost, Here is a remarkable experiment in filmmaking, and there’s an argument for its success. It’s simply the coherence of the film: in addition to the regular flipping back and forth through time, there are also frames on screen that provide windows into the past or future, and while less masterful hands of this aesthetic could be a confusing mess Zemeckis has earned his reputation as one of the best modern directors. You mentally adjust to what it’s doing during the early scenes, and once you understand the rhythm of it, you can easily understand when everything takes place and the larger context of the period.

The characters’ age change turns out to be a mixed bag. There are a few scenes where it’s impressive how Tom Hanks and Robin Wright resemble their younger selves, but there are other points where it’s a distraction (much like Robert Zemeckis’ battle with the uncanny valley in his performance capture films). Overall, though, it’s more convincing than Al and Rose’s aging, as strong performances from Paul Bettany and Kelly Reilly can’t compensate for the unconvincing physicality.

Here it works as if the aesthetic compensates for the generic story… but it doesn’t.

As I’ve hopefully expressed here, it’s easy to be grateful for Zemeckis’ ambition Herebut there appears to be a fatal flaw in the design. While it is appreciated that the filmmaker is attempting something so challenging, it does not make up for the generic story about an ordinary American family. Some conflict is introduced – such as Richard being forced to give up his dreams as an artist so he can support his family, and Margaret’s desire for their family to move out and have their own home – but there’s nothing unique or particularly compelling. , and their impact is undermined by the film’s breezy pace. Aside from the fact that they are there to follow, there is nothing about the Young family that requires real emotional investment from the audience.

The irony is that the film contains much more interesting material in the subplots it pays less attention to Here bounces around to different time periods before returning to the Youngs. This includes Lee (David Lynn) and Stella Beekman (Ophelia Lovibond), who live in the house before Al and Rose and are a freewheeling couple with a big ambition: to sell Lee’s design for a new kind of adjustable living room chair. Before them there are John (Gwilym Lee) and Pauline Marter (Michelle Dockery), who are constantly fighting because the latter does not feel that the former’s hobby of flying planes is safe, and after them the Devon (Nicholas Pinnock) and Helen Harris (Nikki). Amuka-Bird) and their son Justin (Cache Vanderpuye), who lived in the house during the whole mess that was 2020.

All of these and other stories are better than what the film mainly focuses on, and that means you have the weird cinematic experience of being disappointed when Tom Hanks and Robin Wright return to the screen.

Without much emotional weight to speak of, other than the very wide and general swings, Here is an exercise in style over substance for Robert Zemeckis. This isn’t to say it doesn’t have value, as the style is impressive – but it doesn’t leave much of an impact. It’s a film worth seeing once just to witness the way it can operate and to respect the craft that went into it, but in the immediate aftermath of my screening the idea of ​​ever watching it again feels unnecessary.