Monday, February 24, 2014

All Is Lost (Movie Review by Bob Racine)



                                   1 hr & 46 min, color, 2013

That the makers of this sea adventure chose to give the above title to their film is in no small degree amazing.  I am sure that it has been enough over the past few months since it was released to scare many away from it.  If all is lost for the main character, in fact the only character portrayed, where in the unfolding of action could we expect to go from there?  Is this a story of survival or one of futility?  Struggle or doom?  It does not sound promising of final reward.  The most appropriate response to the words would be a shrugging of the shoulders, an attitude of dismissal.  Who wants to see and hear somebody’s last gasp of faith and hope?

Believe me, there is good reason to ignore these visceral responses.  What we have is a gripping and in its own way inspiring motion picture that captures something of the length and breadth and depth of the life force and is far more open-ended than the title would lead you to imagine.  I found it quite fascinating.  A part of that fascination is the way it demonstrates the true essence of what dramatic acting really is.  At most only one fifth of the business of portraying a character is dialogue from a script, words memorized and spoken.  At least four fifths has to do with non-verbal communication – body language, facial expression, the shape of the mouth, sounds made with the throat, the control of the legs and feet, the use of the eyes, pauses, postures, shifts of weight, and gestures.  One must give physical specificity in the painting of a persona. 

Robert Redford does just that and does it superbly.  He is the lone member of the cast, an Everyman in the latter part of his life, sailing by himself far from land and faced with the frightening aftermath of a terrible accident that imperils him.  There is no dialogue in the picture, only a brief voiceover of him in a moment of apparent lost-ness at the very beginning, his futile S.O.S. and two curse words at a point of intense frustration.  Otherwise all we learn about Our Man (the name by which he is called in the credits) is what we observe studying his movements and watching his struggle.  He gives a terrific non-verbal performance, and thereby endears himself to his audience.  It takes real seasoning to bring that off; he has fifty years of it.

Let me first set the scene.  One morning alone he awakes to find water rushing into his cabin where it is not supposed to be and discovers when he comes topside a huge metal container that has fallen off a merchant vessel during the night unbeknownst to its crew.  The container has floated up against his sailboat and gashed a hole in its side, the boat and the metal object fastened together close to the aperture.  After he maneuvers his craft with the use of ropes until he breaks it free of the container, he further discovers that the water in the cabin has knocked out his radio, which he tries in vain to revive so that he can send the S.O.S.  His boat is crippled and suddenly adrift, its steering knocked out of control, subject to the danger of sinking, and he is on his own at the mercy of the ocean wind with no means of contacting another living human being.   

His subsequent struggle, and this is the other fascination, is metaphorical for what happens in any human life when normalcy is suddenly and drastically disrupted by a major crisis.  Think of an unexpected negative diagnosis or a potentially debilitating injury!  His subsequent activities fall into four distinct stages, as they might for any of us.  First of all INSTINCT plays its hand.  He knows his ship, knows what is at his disposal, and knows where everything is.  Automatically he goes to work flushing out water, covering and pasting up the hole left by the collision, picking up scattered objects, assessing the damage to various and sundry items, tying down the sail.  He goes on automatic – too busy as yet to contemplate possible eventualities.  

The second stage is that of SELF-DEFENSE.  In a personal crisis it could mean fighting against the throbbing of a recurring or incessant pain or the onrush of a new one.  For Our Man it means fighting off a feeling of desperation and panic, doing battle with a raging storm that flips his vessel over and soaks him to the skin, even momentarily washing him underwater.  It means increasing exhaustion and an injury to his head, which he has to doctor all by himself with his limited medical resources.  It means watching the calm and friendly sea to which he is accustomed turn savage and terrifying and brutal.

The third stage is that of SOMBER ACCEPTANCE and at last a contemplation of odds and options.  This is forced upon him when he has to let his sailboat go and pack himself and all he can salvage into a plastic life raft.  An especially touching moment for me is the one when he has to say a silent goodbye to his prized possession and watch from the raft as it slowly sinks before his eyes into its watery grave.  It is like standing at a loved one’s deathbed watching them breathe their last or having to hang up the car keys when the infirmities of old age make driving hazardous.  Letting go of a piece of your life that has brought you a special joy!  And without scripted words or any narration his face projects the pain of it.  He has to adjust and chart unfamiliar territory!  He has to rely upon map and compass to track the flotation of his small raft, as it drifts with the wind, movement over which he has no control.  And he does all this as he runs out of food and clean drinkable water.  He even sets up a makeshift fishing line – one that does not prove seaworthy.  The lurking sharks, as vultures of the sea, coldly signify the proximity of death. 

When he crosses into a major shipping lane, hoping to find rescue but cannot get any ship’s attention to his plight, he arrives within himself at the fourth and last stage: RESIGNATION, SURRENDER.  Surrender to what seems to be inevitable!  I guess we can say he casts himself totally and completely into the hands of God.  What happens then amazes even further.

There is no need for me to pretend that “All Is Lost” is anywhere near the great work of art that “Life of Pi” (released in 2012) is, a survival-at-sea adventure reviewed enthusiastically by me in an earlier blog entry.  But it does have an excitement very similar, one that gradually takes us into the realm of the spiritual, that brings us close to the ground of our being, that allows us to touch the essence of the divine, if we are prepared for the touching.  Barring that, it still allows lovers of the sea to enjoy another intake of its beauty.  And we who are not sea-going get to learn a lot about the discipline of sailing, as well as the risks.

A young man named J. C. Chandor is the writer and director of this movie, one that required much professionalism from the technical crew.  If you choose to view it on DVD, I strongly recommend consulting (after your screening, not before) the Special Features to get an idea of how much a feat it was for Chandor to make the film on a very small budget.  One member of the cast, one person seen for the entire hour and forty minutes, but with hundreds of individuals (listed in the closing credits) working behind the camera.  As quaint as it may appear, this is no home movie!          


To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com.  To learn about me consult on the website the blog entry for August 9, 2013.

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