Alejandro González Iñárritu's last effort is by no means a bad picture. In fact, I would say it has some remarkable qualities going for it, first among these Iñárritu's more than competent hand in directing. This lends the movie strength and narrative confidence where there are some otherwise potentially distracting contrivances and weaknesses. The accomplished directing earned the Mexican filmmaker a Best Director award at the Cannes film festival this year, in my view a well deserved win. The acting in Babel is also overall top-notch, with Brad Pitt, Rinko Kikuchi (Chieko), Adriana Barraza (Amelia) and Boubker Ait El Caid (Yussef) truly shining among a talented cast from five corners of the world. On the other hand, Cate Blanchett's limited role doesn't unfortunately offer the Australian actress many opportunities to showcase her talent. However, with this viewer the movie ultimately did not strike an emotional or intellectual chord that was more than skin-deep. Especially during the second half, I was a little too detached from it all, occasionally feeling tempted to mentally parody certain scenes and elements. After a while, I felt bombarded by high-strung drama for the sake of yet more high-strung drama.
I haven't seen 21 Grams, but considered Amores Perros an extraordinary cinematic achievement when I first saw it in 1999. In my view Babel was simply an exercise in the same vein and style, adding nothing new to Iñárritu's development as a filmmaker six years from his explosive and fresh debut picture. With Babel, there seemed to be very little in the way of a stylistic, technical or thematic evolution: the movie, albeit well made, was artistically in many ways just the pale shadow of Amores Perros, furthermore with a few too many narrative contrivances for comfort. The addition of some expertly chosen flourishes (for instance, the setting in four different countries and the addition of an Islamic terrorism theme) all strove to distract the viewer into believing they were watching something entirely new.
Babel is among other things about consequences, and the way that apparently small decisions and actions - sometimes taken with unintentional flippancy or foolishness - will bring on a whole chain of potentially catastrophic consequences, occasionally even with an earth-shattering global chain effect. This is the cinematic equivalent of the butterfly beating its wings one time too many in Canada and provoking an earthquake in Indonesia. Babel also explores fatality, another element it has in common with Amores Perros. My biggest criticism of Babel, however, apart from Iñárritu layering the drama on too thick, was its tendency to spoon-feed you big, worthy and topical issues, all neatly selected to represent humanity's global concerns du jour. For instance: the split between East and West, or wealthy and poor, or Muslims and Judeo-Christians (with America and its allies suspecting Islamic terrorism at the drop of a hat in the Morocco-set segment). Alternatively: prejudice and the dehumanisation effect of certain laws transforming a mild and warm-hearted Mexican nanny into a generic and faceless outlaw, a cypher for an illegal immigrant to be hunted down and brutally detained at all costs.
If all else fails, just add personal grief and disability to the thematic cocktail, stretching the scope from generic global tragedy to personal tragedy (thus showing that your movie embraces both macro- and micro-suffering!). Sure enough, Iñárritu does so as well: Chieko, a deaf and mute teenager in trendy Tokyo, struggles to overcome the trauma of her mother's suicide, as well as her own disability. It obviously makes attracting boys and fitting in with her peers much more difficult than it already would for a moody teenage girl. While Chieko suffers from the grief of her mother's death in Japan, Richard and Susan, two American tourists in Morocco, discover that a life-threatening accident will ultimately help them elaborate the loss of their youngest infant son to cot death. I couldn't help thinking that all that was missing from this hit parade of typical noughties topics was a homosexual theme!
I would never discourage anyone from watching Babel, as it does still have the power to entertain and even move in parts. As mentioned above, it's an extremely well directed, well acted and well presented dummy's guide to our era's most topical global issues. Personally, I would have loved to see more of Chieko and her father, the police detective and Tokyo in general. Unlike the others, I found that the Japanese segment contained the seeds for a story that could be developed into a full-length feature. As it stands, it was engaging but rather half-baked, while the other segments were more limited but ultimately came full circle. After Babel, I am now keen to see Iñárritu explore entirely new artistic avenues. I'm still convinced he is a truly talented filmmaker, and would be the first to feel saddened at the notion that he may turn out to be just a one-hit wonder (with Amores Perros being that first and only truly remarkable cinematic achievement. Although not having seen 21 Grams, I'm not really in a position to say). Instead, I would like to believe that Babel is simply a "transitional" movie, a stepping-stone on the way to something truly different and original, into an entirely new phase of Iñárritu's life as an artist.
I haven't seen 21 Grams, but considered Amores Perros an extraordinary cinematic achievement when I first saw it in 1999. In my view Babel was simply an exercise in the same vein and style, adding nothing new to Iñárritu's development as a filmmaker six years from his explosive and fresh debut picture. With Babel, there seemed to be very little in the way of a stylistic, technical or thematic evolution: the movie, albeit well made, was artistically in many ways just the pale shadow of Amores Perros, furthermore with a few too many narrative contrivances for comfort. The addition of some expertly chosen flourishes (for instance, the setting in four different countries and the addition of an Islamic terrorism theme) all strove to distract the viewer into believing they were watching something entirely new.
Babel is among other things about consequences, and the way that apparently small decisions and actions - sometimes taken with unintentional flippancy or foolishness - will bring on a whole chain of potentially catastrophic consequences, occasionally even with an earth-shattering global chain effect. This is the cinematic equivalent of the butterfly beating its wings one time too many in Canada and provoking an earthquake in Indonesia. Babel also explores fatality, another element it has in common with Amores Perros. My biggest criticism of Babel, however, apart from Iñárritu layering the drama on too thick, was its tendency to spoon-feed you big, worthy and topical issues, all neatly selected to represent humanity's global concerns du jour. For instance: the split between East and West, or wealthy and poor, or Muslims and Judeo-Christians (with America and its allies suspecting Islamic terrorism at the drop of a hat in the Morocco-set segment). Alternatively: prejudice and the dehumanisation effect of certain laws transforming a mild and warm-hearted Mexican nanny into a generic and faceless outlaw, a cypher for an illegal immigrant to be hunted down and brutally detained at all costs.
If all else fails, just add personal grief and disability to the thematic cocktail, stretching the scope from generic global tragedy to personal tragedy (thus showing that your movie embraces both macro- and micro-suffering!). Sure enough, Iñárritu does so as well: Chieko, a deaf and mute teenager in trendy Tokyo, struggles to overcome the trauma of her mother's suicide, as well as her own disability. It obviously makes attracting boys and fitting in with her peers much more difficult than it already would for a moody teenage girl. While Chieko suffers from the grief of her mother's death in Japan, Richard and Susan, two American tourists in Morocco, discover that a life-threatening accident will ultimately help them elaborate the loss of their youngest infant son to cot death. I couldn't help thinking that all that was missing from this hit parade of typical noughties topics was a homosexual theme!
I would never discourage anyone from watching Babel, as it does still have the power to entertain and even move in parts. As mentioned above, it's an extremely well directed, well acted and well presented dummy's guide to our era's most topical global issues. Personally, I would have loved to see more of Chieko and her father, the police detective and Tokyo in general. Unlike the others, I found that the Japanese segment contained the seeds for a story that could be developed into a full-length feature. As it stands, it was engaging but rather half-baked, while the other segments were more limited but ultimately came full circle. After Babel, I am now keen to see Iñárritu explore entirely new artistic avenues. I'm still convinced he is a truly talented filmmaker, and would be the first to feel saddened at the notion that he may turn out to be just a one-hit wonder (with Amores Perros being that first and only truly remarkable cinematic achievement. Although not having seen 21 Grams, I'm not really in a position to say). Instead, I would like to believe that Babel is simply a "transitional" movie, a stepping-stone on the way to something truly different and original, into an entirely new phase of Iñárritu's life as an artist.