Country:
USA/Germany
Recognizable Faces:
Michael Shannon
Willem Dafoe
Chloë Sevigny
Directed By:
Werner Herzog
Since I had the incredible luck to watch Aguirre: The Wrath Of God for German cinema class as an undergrad, I have been a die hard fan of fearless, borderline insane director Werner Herzog. The man never took a single easy decision in regards to his art, and yet delivered some of the most haunting movies. Woyzeck, Fitzcarraldo and Lessons Of Darkness have granted him immortality within film buff circles, but his incursion in Hollywood territory in the last ten years has been somewhat of a roller coaster ride. While I don't think My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done will make him any more popular with the casual movie viewer, it's another Herzog film that manages to challenge conventional storytelling while keeping itself together. That's quite a feat for a man of his age and past.
Warning, seriously art-house movie ahead.
Inspired by a true story, Brad McCullum (played to perfection by Michael Shannon) is a mentally unstable young man, to say the least (if you're looking for the true crime version, Wikipedia has McCullum's real name as Mark Yavorsky). He never knew his father and by giving one thorough look to his mom (also played to perfection by Grace Zabriskie), you know that he's a lost cause for sanity. While in Peru for a Kayaking trip, his "inner voice" warns him of an imminent danger and it happens to be right. Then when he comes back to America, he declares himself enlightened and whatever he does, he's guided by this tiny little voice inside of him. He soon enrolls in a stage production of Aeschylus' Eumenides and develops a quite unhealthy relationship with the time defying tragedy. Hah! I managed to spoil even less than the trailer (who, by the way, sucks at properly selling the movie).
That's the easy part. Herzog's approach to filmmaking will require more work from the viewer than the actual story. Faithful to his habits, he still experiments with time a lot. He will film the same thing for a few minutes and introduce some variables in in, like small objects and musics, in order to fuck with your perception. He manages to keep it well paced (unlike Antonioni for example, who managed to be gorgeous and so fucking slow) and interesting enough to keep you sucked in. He will put you off in the middle of a tense scene with a gospel song and manages to keep it within the borders of his storyline. Unlike the "art house greats" like Godard or Antonioni (poor guy, I bash on him a lot today, but I'm actually a fan), Herzog remembers he's working at a narrative art. Nothing thicks me off more than a director who gets angry whenever he's ask about the meaning of his images. Herzog's movie has a few of those still-life moments where there's nothing but the image to admire, but he never goes overboard, except maybe in that scene where Brad walks into a Peruvian market. This will appeal to the long time fans, but it's going to piss off people that have no background in Herzog.
So put on your intellectual glasses, pour yourself a glass of wine and arm yourself with patience. It's the best way to watch My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done. It's a contemplative look at the madness, dwelling in somebody's heart and mind. It's slow, difficult and vaguely frightening. Michael Shannon is damn near perfect and Grace Zabriskie has secured a place in my nightmares for the next few weeks. Talent like Willem Dafoe and Chloë Sevigny is a tad wasted, since they are given support roles. Sevigny's role is completely useless, save for shedding light on the story. I would have loved to see some stand offs in between Dafoe and Shannon, but that's just my literary/Hollywood washed mind talking. I can't help thinking that Herzog could have touched so much more people if he changed his work habits just a little and made the movie just a little more emotional, but you can't argue with integrity. My Son, My Son, What Have You Done might be a little limited, but it's very good at what it does.
SCORE: 83%
Warning, seriously art-house movie ahead.
Inspired by a true story, Brad McCullum (played to perfection by Michael Shannon) is a mentally unstable young man, to say the least (if you're looking for the true crime version, Wikipedia has McCullum's real name as Mark Yavorsky). He never knew his father and by giving one thorough look to his mom (also played to perfection by Grace Zabriskie), you know that he's a lost cause for sanity. While in Peru for a Kayaking trip, his "inner voice" warns him of an imminent danger and it happens to be right. Then when he comes back to America, he declares himself enlightened and whatever he does, he's guided by this tiny little voice inside of him. He soon enrolls in a stage production of Aeschylus' Eumenides and develops a quite unhealthy relationship with the time defying tragedy. Hah! I managed to spoil even less than the trailer (who, by the way, sucks at properly selling the movie).
That's the easy part. Herzog's approach to filmmaking will require more work from the viewer than the actual story. Faithful to his habits, he still experiments with time a lot. He will film the same thing for a few minutes and introduce some variables in in, like small objects and musics, in order to fuck with your perception. He manages to keep it well paced (unlike Antonioni for example, who managed to be gorgeous and so fucking slow) and interesting enough to keep you sucked in. He will put you off in the middle of a tense scene with a gospel song and manages to keep it within the borders of his storyline. Unlike the "art house greats" like Godard or Antonioni (poor guy, I bash on him a lot today, but I'm actually a fan), Herzog remembers he's working at a narrative art. Nothing thicks me off more than a director who gets angry whenever he's ask about the meaning of his images. Herzog's movie has a few of those still-life moments where there's nothing but the image to admire, but he never goes overboard, except maybe in that scene where Brad walks into a Peruvian market. This will appeal to the long time fans, but it's going to piss off people that have no background in Herzog.
So put on your intellectual glasses, pour yourself a glass of wine and arm yourself with patience. It's the best way to watch My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done. It's a contemplative look at the madness, dwelling in somebody's heart and mind. It's slow, difficult and vaguely frightening. Michael Shannon is damn near perfect and Grace Zabriskie has secured a place in my nightmares for the next few weeks. Talent like Willem Dafoe and Chloë Sevigny is a tad wasted, since they are given support roles. Sevigny's role is completely useless, save for shedding light on the story. I would have loved to see some stand offs in between Dafoe and Shannon, but that's just my literary/Hollywood washed mind talking. I can't help thinking that Herzog could have touched so much more people if he changed his work habits just a little and made the movie just a little more emotional, but you can't argue with integrity. My Son, My Son, What Have You Done might be a little limited, but it's very good at what it does.
SCORE: 83%
