As a term of caution, mental fragility comes with a warning
label that screams ‘baffle and intimidate’.
In art, we measure our own emotional responses in turns as to the state
and outcome of the perpetrated. It would
seem that in our own inconclusiveness we seek definitive meaning...
A HIGHER PLANE
Of course, in film this becomes a dilemma. Film and celluloid, by their very nature
suggest fluidity, the very antithesis of ambiguity. Siegfried Kracauer (‘Theory of Film’) sets
his stall out to present the medium as a three part act. A beginning, a middle and an end. As a visual art, an economy of words
expressed become words suggested, which make heavily dialogued pieces that much
more difficult to sell. The way we
consume our movies make this especially so.
And here, in most welcome fashion, is the point of this
opening. In my view this may be the
first time in years that a Woody Allen picture has gone against the grain of
filmic norms. At his peak, Allen, like
Ingmar Bergman (a major creative influence), understood how to use a
Shakespearean framework as an inspiration but not necessarily a template with
the use of Brechtian techniques to break down the fourth wall (see Annie
Hall). His recent output, even one as
well balanced as ‘Midnight in Paris’, played as comedies in the strictest sense
starting in the dark of meandering souls and ending in the hopeful, reflective
lamps in caramel-woozy European dusk.
‘Blue Jasmine', a return to familiar US shores (albeit San
Fran not New York), plays without the aforementioned three part act but instead
is shipped by an overwhelming emotional arc anchored by a riveting central
performance by Cate Blanchett.
Plot is threadbare as the emotional spectrum of Jasmine
takes main stage. In essence the film
chronicles the descent (often internal) of Jasmine from a position of wealth
and security to one of paranoia and insecurity.
Supporting performances of note include a seedy turn by Alec Baldwin as
well as a comically understated role by Louis CK, however the real standout is
Sally Hawkins playing Jasmine’s sister, Ginger.
It’s a thankless task having to play what could be seen as a contrived
moral counterpoint to Blanchett’ Jasmine but Hawkins carries it off with
delicate aplomb.
As the film comes to its conclusion it returns to where we
were at the beginning. No great reveals
or moments of saccharine melancholy.
Most importantly it doesn’t force redemption or understanding on its
anti-heroine.
It leaves her alone like all substantial art should, as a
mirror to the human condition left to contemplate the meaning of her lost
perspective; without hubris, a future laid out on rain stained pavement slabs.
Rating: 8.5/10 (A-)
