|
I put The Crimson Rivers in my Netflix queue as soon as I opened the account a few years ago, at the suggestion of some article or another, I can’t remember which, and it eventually made its way up to the top a few days ago. Now that I have watched it, I can honestly say that I understand the recommendation, even if I cannot exactly extend a similar one to you here. You see, the film is cinematically gorgeous, but nearly bankrupt narratively. I recall reading yet another article recently (Jesus, what a fucking geek I am) detailing what a cornholing director Matthieu Kassovitz took from the giant 20th Century Fox cock during the filming of Babylon AD, and I felt bad for him. But after seeing Gothika on his resume, and living through this hyperactively rewritten-on-the-fly film, I’m thinking maybe he asked for it.
In the movie, staid veteran Jean Reno plays super-cop Kommisar Pierre Niemans against brash newcomer (at the time) Vincent Cassel as Lieutenant from the wrong side of the tracks Max Kerkerian. They are both investigating different cases a town apart that eventually intertwine and lead them not only to each other but to the truth of what is going on at Gueron University, a fictitious school located in the French Alps. It seems that the campus is almost more like a gated community than an educational institution, and people associated with the complex are turning up with their hands cut off and their eyes precisely scooped out, amongst other atrocities. It is Niemans’s opinion that the corpses are being staged in such a way as to lead the cops by the nose to something that the killer wants to be seen, and they need to put it all together before many innocent people are killed in the process. | I remember watching the special features on Julian Magnat’s freak-out-fest Bloody Mallory, and hearing him talk about how difficult it is for a French filmmaker to get anyone to take their work seriously in their home country. So kudos to Kassovitz for trying to hew a crime-thriller genre out of the croissant that is the French film scene, but boo to him doing it ham-fistedly. First and foremost, while trying to hammer out a workable script with Jean-Christophe Grange (author of the source novel), he decided to begin pre-production without a finished script. Ideas were in and out like a demented game of Hokey-Pokey by the time they began principal photography, and then a weather snafu in the beginning lead to a series of rewrites while the film was being shot, much to Cassel’s chagrin – he fully admits that he would rather have been in a boring film that he could understand than in an exciting film that makes no sense. |  |
And there you have it: explanatory dialog was cut because Kassovitz got bored with shooting it. He is a genius when it comes to camera angles, and intelligent enough to put his faith in trusted crew members to help bring his vision to the screen, but too impetuous to understand that lush visuals and impressively-staged car chases fail in front of a story that leaves the audience scratching their heads. I consider myself an astute film viewer (I am in the role often enough) but I was just out to sea by the time the film limped along to its shoddily-constructed conclusion. Things were going along gangbusters, and I figured I would intuit the final plot reveals as they happened, but they never did happen. Apparently I was supposed to have collected story nuggets in my pic-a-nic basket as I traipsed through the forest, and put the sandwich together my own damn self after the credits. I am all for a film making me think, and leaving me some elbow room to draw my own conclusions, but I need to feel that somebody on set had some idea what the fuck they were talking about. The end result is that the film is worth watching for the craft of both the acting and the direction, as well as the incredible special effects, but be prepared to be let down in the crunch.
|
