A Review of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is David Fincher's follow up to the underrated minor masterpiece that was 2007's Zodiac. Here, Fincher reunites with his Seven and Fight Club headliner Brad Pitt, to deliver a very different kind of film.
The film deals with the life and times of the title character, a person born with the features and infirmities of a man in his 80's who gradually grows younger in appearance over time. Those who have summarised the film as being about a person who ages backwards have missed one of the fundamental points of Benjamin Button – namely that his miraculous reversal of the aging process is only on the surface. The film is also misleading in the way it deals with the central character. Fincher uses a number of methods to avoid answering any real questions about the man. The central conceit is a journal which Button has left for his lifetime love – Daisy (played by Cate Blanchett). But it reveals next to nothing about the man, a fact reinforced by the moment Daisy asks him what it is like to age backwards and his only reply is that he doesn't know – he is always seeing things through his own eyes. This issue of perspective also has an effect on the film. By not committing to any explanation or examination of the motivations behind the character, the film misses out on what could have been its best feature. The admirable detached objectivity which Fincher used so liberally in Zodiac seems to have bled over into his next project and, with a title like Benjamin Button, a little emotional involvement was not just important but absolutely essential.
Still, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a well made film. Pitt makes an engaging lead, though as he grows younger he seems to become like a more and more distilled version of Brad Pitt than a younger Button. Blanchett is rather cold and, in her geriatric and much made up form, practically insufferable. Indeed, most of the characters are rather difficult to like – motivated mostly by selfishness without a thought for the repercussions of their actions. Such realistically complex characters simply do not belong in a movie which should only conform to fairytale logic. Only Taraji P. Henson (as Button's adoptive mother) seems to realise the type of film she is in and her warm and unrestrained performance is the only real heart of the film.
The rather cold tone is all the more strange considering that the story was adapted (from the original by F. Scott Fitzgerald) by Eric Roth – most famous for the smaltz and sentimentality smorgasbord that was Forrest Gump. The script is embellished by a dozen fanciful inventions which are straight from the Gump universe – from a (clearly symbolic) clock which runs backwards to the broadly drawn caricatures which populate Button's first job on a boat. And yet the movie's heart is barely beating, managing only a few emotionally charged moments in its nearly 3 hour running time.
Technically, there are no such disappointments with Benjamin Button. The design and camerawork are sublime, managing to evoke each distinct period perfectly. The score is subtly haunting and adds to the experience without being overpowering. The much vaunted special effects are very special indeed – with the many faces of Brad Pitt genuinely impressive.
In short, every individual department did an excellent job in the creation of Benjamin Button but some vital element was missing. Perhaps Fincher wasn't ready for a fairytale, there are certainly intimations here of a much darker tale lurking just beneath the surface. Without a doubt he is a talented director but some casting mis-steps and a not quite solid grasp of the fundamental point of the proceedings have left the movie weaker than it should have been. There was so much scope here for an examination of life through the eyes of an alien, one with a unique perspective and the apparent key to the fountain of youth. The ravages of age bearing down on the increasingly youthful looking Button are some of the most poignant moments in the film but they flit by in moments, mixed in with Daisy's underwhelming parallel story.
You may think I have been overly harsh on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button but that is only because I saw the possibility of something truly special from a director with obvious talent for complex stories. Perhaps making an enchanting, enduring fairytale was simply beyond even his copious abilities.

A review of The Wrestler (2008)

The Wrestler is without a doubt Darren Aronofskys most straightforward film to date and proves that he has the talent to handle a wide range of genres and styles, a skill which David Fincher may not have in light of his uneven Benjamin Button. Here, Mickey Rourke plays an aging professional wrestler who is lost in some no man's land between his 80's hey day and the realities of his bruised and broken 21st century self. After a brutal bout, The Ram's body betrays him and he ends up alone and battered by life, trying to recover from a heart attack. Unable to compete in the ring and alienated from everyone around him, he reaches out to a sympathetic stripper (Marisa Tomei) and makes a last attempt to connect with his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood). The Ram is approached for a high profile rematch with a former foe and he must choose between a potentially fatal return to the ring and the tiny, nascent possibility of a real life which he has carved out for himself.

Much has been made of the parallels between Rourke and The Ram but making that connection takes away from the sterling work by Rourke. He inhabits the character totally – no doubt helped by his increasingly bizzare features (he underwent reconstructive surgery after a short lived boxing career) but also bringing a strange naïve sweetness to a difficult role. For The Ram, it is life outside of the ring that is hard, the everyday is not subject to the rules and controls which exist in a wrestling match. And, most telling of all, you always know who is going to win in a wrestling match – in real life it is never certain. Even when Randy's life is going well, there is always a sense of fatalism, the sense that he cannot allow himself to succeed because he is too afraid of not knowing what will happen next.

Alongside Rourke, Tomei gives a good performance, although she is far too attractive for the role of a forgotten stripper. Seeing the two of them together comes across as aspirational rather than real, an anomaly in an otherwise naturalistic film. Likewise, Rourke's relationship with his daughter, though heartfelt, is spiked with too much cliché to be truly engaging. She is the hate-filled daughter who grew up without a father while he plays the immature, absentee dad who lost his way in a multitude of character flaws. These elements weaken the film to some extent but are generally forgivable – especially in light of the fact that Wood features in some of Rourke's strongest scenes and she holds her own very well for such a young actor.

One of The Wrestler's greatest assets is its camerawork by Maryse Alberti. Fluid and almost documentary style, it also manages to be a commentary on theme and character. Often when Rourke is walking to a new location, the camera follows close behind, hand-held. This deliberately apes that oft-used shot of a fighter on the way to the ring, enhanced by the claustrophobic corridors he walks down, mirroring those underneath a stadium. This connection is made literal as Rourke walks in one long take to the deli counter, with crowd noises on the soundtrack. Rourke literally treats every moment as though he were on the way to the ring, and this is another subtle indication of his inherent immaturity and fear of reality. When faced with another life, he retreats – even going so far as working in the same dead end job for fear of being forced to grow up. Rourke's man child is pathetic, selfish and broken but in the ring he is loved, adored and lauded for not growing up. It is an escape for the character and not fundamentally different from the many ways in which we all escape from responsibility and the vicissitudes of reality.

The Wrestler is a strong and simple film about a deeply flawed and powerfully sympathetic character. Rourke's performance is mesmerisng and his envelopment in the character complete. As the film ends and Bruce Springsteen's 'The Wrestler' plays over the credits we cant help but wish that things could have worked out better for The Ram but the fact is, outside of the ring, no one ever knows who is going to win.