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Дорога / Road
Natalie: Открываю тему в преддверии премьеры в России, которая состоится 29 января. Сюжет: На Землю обрушились чудовищные катаклизмы, цивилизация уничтожена, как и практически вся жизнь на планете. Оставшееся человечество разделилось на каннибалов и их добычу. По дороге, покрытой пеплом, идут отец с сыном. Они хотят добраться до теплых мест, чтобы выжить… Отца, собственно, играет Вигго. Судя по тому, что пишут на зарубежных сайтах фильм обещает быть интересным и многообещающим. Галерея на kinopoisk.ru Кстати, пару дней назад нашла вот эту ссылку, где обещают, что них можно скачать Дорогу. Не качала, не знаю, правда ли это, но намучавшись с Аппалузой и зная, что Дорога еще не вышла в США, буду все-таки ждать дня премьеры.
Natalie: Ну, ее-то судя по всему, будет немного в фильме, так как ее героиня в начале совершает суицид. И кажись, дальше присутствует только в воспоминаниях героев. Но везучая, да...
Orianna: Довольно скептическая рецензия на "Дорогу". Источник, к сожалению, авторитетный и влиятельный.
Tinavi: Очень жаль, но никак не открывается((
Natalie: Tinavi, скопировала для тебя... The Road October 14, 2009 by Roger Ebert "The Road" is a film that, to quote Mark Twain, knows the words but not the music. It evokes the images and the characters of Cormac McCarthy's novel, but lacks a core of emotional feeling. I am not sure this is the fault of the filmmakers. The novel itself would not be successful if limited to its characters and images. Its effect comes above all through McCarthy's prose. It is the same with all of McCarthy's work, but especially this one, because his dialogue is so restrained. The story is straightforward enough: America has been devastated. Habitations have been destroyed or abandoned, vegetation is dying, crops have failed, the infrastructure of civilization has disappeared. It has happened in such recent memory that even The Boy, so young, was born into a healthy world. No reason is given for this destruction, perhaps because no reason would be adequate. McCarthy evokes the general apprehension of post 9/11. The Boy and The Man make their way toward the sea, perhaps for no better reason than that the sea has always indicated the direction of hope in this country. The surviving population has been reduced to savage survivalists, making slaves of the weaker, possibly using them as food. We've always done that, employing beef cattle, for example, to do the grazing on acres of pasture so we can consume the concentrated calories of their labor. In a land where food is scarce, wanderers seek out canned goods; their bodies have performed this work for the cannibals. Although we read of those who stockpile guns and ammunition for an apocalypse, weapons stores have grown low. The Man has a gun with two remaining bullets. He is a wary traveler, suspecting everyone he sees. He and The Boy have a few possessions in a grocery cart. He encourages his son to keep walking, but holds out little hope for the end of their journey. I am not sure the characters could be played better, or differently. Viggo Mortensen plays The Man as dogged and stubborn, determined to protect his boy. Kodi Smit-McPhee is convincing as a child stunned by destruction, depending on his father in a world where it must be clear to him that any man can die in an instant. The movie resists any tendency toward making the child cute, or the two of them heartwarming. Flashback scenes star Charlize Theron as the wife and mother of the two in earlier, sunnier days. But they show the marriage as failing, and these memories haunt The Man. I'm not sure what relevance this subplot has to the film as a whole; a marriage happy or sad -- isn't it much the same in this new world? The external events of the novel have been solved. But McCarthy's prose has the uncanny ability to convey more than dialogue and incident. It's as dense as poetry. It is more spare in The Road than in a more ornate work like Suttree, but as evocative as Beckett. If it were not, The Road might be just another science-fiction apocalypse. How could the director and writer, John Hillcoat and Joe Penhall, have summoned the strength of McCarthy's writing? Could they have used more stylized visuals, instead of relentless realism? A grainy black-and-white look to suggest severely limited resources? I have no idea. Perhaps McCarthy, like Faulkner, is all but unfilmable. The one great film of his work is the Coens' "No Country for Old Men," but it began with an extraordinary character and surrounded him with others. The Road does not provide such fertile soil. McCarthy's greatest novels are Suttree and Blood Meridian. The second, set in the Old West, is about a fearsome, bald, skeletal man named Judge Holden, who is implacable in his desire to inflict suffering and death. It is being prepared by Todd Field ("In the Bedroom"). The judge has not been cast; I see him as Tom Noonan -- tall, grave, soft-spoken, almost sympathizing with you about your fate. Certainly not as a major star. I will go so far as to speculate that Suttree cannot be filmed at all. "The Road" is an honorable film, a sincere attempt to film the story. You won't feel diminished by it. It may help if you've not read the novel and are generally unfamiliar with this very particular writer. Then you might not feel something is missing.
Tinavi: Спасибо, друг!))) Ну не такая уж рецензия и плохая. В смысле, для самого фильма, конечно, мало теплых слов нашлось, а для актеров - их есть! Пойду, переведу для народа)))
Natalie: Народ, получила перевод от Tinavi. Пойду, повешу на сайт :)))) Кстати, я только что книжку дочитала. До чего грустная повесть... Представляю, что получится на экране, если фильм во много повторяет книгу.
Tinavi: Не будем вешать спойлеров, но я готовлю много носовых платков!
Natalie: Tinavi, а ты книжку прочитала?
Tinavi: Да, на английском, еще весной. Мне понравилось: язык простой и очень сильно на чувства воздействует)) Так что я точно знаю, чем у МакКормака дело кончается, а как будет у Хиллкота?))
Natalie: Вроде так же... Эх... Мои слезы, моя печаль...
Orianna: Еще одна рецензия на дорогу - на сей раз, мнение знаменитого писателя: A Sentimental Journey by Lucius Shepard For a time it eluded me why anyone would want to make a movie of Cormac McCarthy’s =The Road=, a book that has taken T.S. Eliot’s famous line, “not with a bang, but with a whimper,” and seeks with punishing insistency to document that whimper. No matter how well mounted, I doubted that what would be essentially a zombie picture minus the zombies (roving bands of shaggy, crusty human cannibals standing in for their undead brethren), and minus the humor that zombies have come to evoke in the context of pop culture…I doubted it would do more than middling business, especially as it was slated for a Thanksgiving release. Not exactly holiday fare. Surely, I told myself, John Hillcoat’s (= The Proposition =) gray-as-gristle film wouldn’t garner the same attention as had the previous, less monotone McCarthy adaptation, the Coen Brothers’ =No Country For Old Men=, and thus it would not have a profitable awards season re-release. It appears now that I was only half-right in my presumptions, as awards chatter for =The Road= has been off the charts. Behind the scenes in all of McCarthy’s fiction is a gray-bearded authorial presence who, complete with staff, stone tablets, and a pointing finger, either lurks in the shadows between adjectives and insinuates that all flesh is grass, or else steps forward in the narrative to intone epiphanies and declaim in booming tones, “Woe betide thee!” In the Faulkneresque novels that established his reputation (= Suttree=, =Blood Meridian=, etc.), this presence, this Biblical voice, is often a virtue and at the very least tolerable; but in =The Road=, basically an inflated short story that does not rank high in his canon, McCarthy’s moral pronouncements seem enervated, a kind of Old Testament flatulence produced, one imagines, by the authorial presence trudging along at the same plodding pace as his characters, breaking wind at every step, releasing sour little poots that effect a rhythmic =woe, woe, told you so= as he proceeds along his (and their) doomful path. It’s not the beat of a powerful engine such as you’d envision would propel the plot of a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel about the fate of mankind, but then these are the end times, right? A little falling-off in performance has to expected. The plot of =The Road=, such as it is, involves two characters labeled the Man and the Boy (Cormac sure do love him some archetypes) who, years after an undisclosed apocalyptic event, possibly a massive nuclear exchange, follow a road leading (essentially) nowhere through a dying world, armed with a gun that has only two bullets and pushing a shopping cart that, for me, evoked a weird resonance with the Lone Wolf and Cub movies (based on a Japanese =manga=, these films document the revenge-fueled journey of a samurai and his three year old son, whom he pushes in a baby carriage). Having been abandoned by the Wife (Charlize Theron), who has gone off, presumably to commit suicide, and whom we see in flashbacks (too many of them, for my tastes), they search for food, try to avoid cannibal gangs, encounter other travelers (notably Robert Duval and Guy Pearce) and ultimately achieve something of a resolution. It’s slim, yet sufficient to hang a movie on…but it’s not great movie. And given its skimpy furnishings, =The Road= needed to be great if it was going to work at all. The relationship between the Man (solidly if unspectacularly played by Viggo Mortensen) and the Boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee, who can be seen to better effect starring with Eric Bana in the little Australian film, =Romulus, My Father =) is at the heart of =The Road=. As they wander through the bird-less, animal-less, almost lifeless landscape, unrelentingly bleak and gray, heading for the coast because it seems to offer a slim hope of survival, their love for one another is apparent. The Man tries in vain to toughen up the Boy, and the Boy arrives at a more complex view of his father, seeing his violence on display and sensing that he may not completely be one of the “good guys.” I had difficulty with the good guy/bad guy aspect of the relationship because it seemed too reductive and I felt that the Boy, born into this moribund world, having had some experience of its isolation and terrors, would not be the naïf he appears to be and would already have reached this understanding about his father, recognizing that theirs was a world of difficult choices and moral compromises. The shining stars of the film are the production design by Chris Kennedy, a longtime collaborator of Hillcoat’s, and the astonishing cinematography by Javier Aguirresar, who previously photographed one of my favorite weird films, =Obaba=, a picture about a mythical province in Spain overpopulated by lizards, and is currently filming the third Twilight movie, to which he can’t help but add a touch of class. Thanks to this pair, the post-apocalyptic world is rendered with crushing effect, dressed in smoke and ash and deftly-used CGI—there are images both horrific and ghostly here that will remain with you long after the lights come up. Why, then, is the film so uninvolving? In the modern world, much of the way we assess quality is based on how things are presented to us. =The Road= came branded as a masterpiece, the product of a great writer, profound and insightful, and—to top that off—it was anointed by the Empress of the Vox Populi, the Great Purveyor of Middlebrow Intellectualism, Oprah, as a novel that should sit on the shelves of every American with a sensitive soul, a moral code, a love for children and a fondness for pork butt recipes. If the book had been published as, say, the debut novel of an unknown writer, it would have received some good notices, some “meh,” some that basically said, “Been there, done that,” and would have been largely ignored, consigned to the ignominy of the science fiction bins. It’s a thin book, not all that revelatory, well written yet unremarkably so, and, despite its brevity, it becomes intermittently tedious. In other words, it doesn’t blare “masterpiece,” nor does it cry out to be turned into a movie. The release date of =The Road= was pushed back nearly a year amid apocryphal reports that the film was “a mess.” It is now, if ever it was, no longer a mess, but it has the desanguinated feel of a picture that has been tweaked and re-tweaked until some essential vigor has been lost. Perhaps this was done in the interests of fidelity, yet in retrospect it seems that Hillcoat might have served the novel better had he been less concerned with replicating the text and brought more of a personal vision to the project. Then there’s the score by Nick Cave, Warren Ellis of the Dirty Three, and Pierre Andre. I had expected something harsh and stirring, something redolent of Johnny Greenwood’s score for =There Will Be Blood=, but the mush of swelling strings that annotates sections of the film reminds us, despite the horrors onscreen, that what we’re seeing is an Oprah moment, a story about family, about love’s resilience or the triumph of the human spirit over tribulation or some similar do-wah-wah. I suspect this was a producer’s decision, but whatever, it’s off-putting, not a little insulting, and detracts from the potent imagery on display. We’re being induced to have a mass pity party for humankind….and this, I suppose, lies at the core of the book’s appeal to the Oprah corporate franchise hive mind, that we can love one another even while eating one another, that we can wax teary-eyed and remorseful over a world we’re too busy consuming to care about, so we’ve been given this movie to weep over in order to make us feel bad (albeit in a good kind of way) about our decline and possible demise. It’s as if we’ve been invited to participate in our own wake, to commiserate and murmur consoling sentiments such as, “Why? We were such a decent species! Why?” And at the end of the function we’ll all gather in the street to join hands and sing a few verses of John Lennon’s “Imagine,” the ”Kumbaya” of the oughts. At any rate, to paraphrase Bilbo Baggins, =The Road= goes ever on and on, lots of walking, more walking, unrelieved trudgery, and then, mercifully, after having made 119 minutes or thereabouts feel as dreary and misspent as a week in post-apocalyptic Poughkeepsie, it ends.
BizaRRe_LolliPoP: Мой переводчик попросил мыла и верёвки. Orianna, сможешь выложить нормальный перевод?
Tinavi: Я завтра попробую перевести, если времени хватит!
olik: А я в Москве)) Правда незнаю кто тут ещё из наших)) Пух ! Усе будет у порядке!!! И встретим, и обогреем Надо только в брюнетку будет перекраситься, вроде Вигго ими чуть больше интересуется
BizaRRe_LolliPoP: Привет всем. брюнетки...нда... Вчера смотрела видео на ютюбе, оно было добавлено..в общем вчера. какое-то мероприятие ATI. Милое видео).. И там был один комментарий, женщина писала, что была там в тот день, в каком-то там ряду в нескольких шагах от Вигго... Сказать нечего...
Iren: Это уже не смешно. Вчера наконец-то прочитала "Дорогу". Трудности можна перенести, преодолеть, если рядом с тобой родной тебе человечек, часть тебя, такой не похожий и одновременно похожий на тебя, твоя поддержка, твой стакан воды. Читая, много думала о своих отношениях с сыном, об отношениях Вигго со своим сыном. А ведь сейчас, в свои 19 лет мой сын мне намного ближе, чем раньше.
BizaRRe_LolliPoP: Хм.. Никогда не забуду, как лет в 13 мы с мамой шли на вечеринку, болтали о чём-то. И вдруг она как-то странно посмотрела на меня и замолчала. Я спросила, что случилось. А она так странно и нежно сказала: "Хорошо, когда ребёнок вырастает - хоть поговорить можно..." Когда ребёнок бегает и играет в песочнице, это, конечо, здорово. Но вот когда он уже состоялся, это так...волнует что ли)) Наверно вам оттого стало лучше взаимодействовать. Ой..нафлудила я, бесстыдница...
Tinavi: Думаю, что все в тему))
Iren: Есть такая категория людей, которые постоянно находятся в поиске. Говорить, что человек состоялся - ничего не сказать. Человек может искать себя всю жизнь и так и не состояться. Можно в чем-то определиться, но расширять свои поиски. Останавливаться нельзя, разве что складывается определенная жизненная ситуация.
BizaRRe_LolliPoP: Имхо (даже не "я имею мнение...", а "не только я..."), но каждый человек находится в поиске) Только кто-то постоянно трындит о нём, а кто-то идёт)) Одна мудрая женщина сказала что-то вроде: "Когда ты можешь точно сказать, кто ты - всё, тебе крышка!"
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