MFF 2015 REVIEW:
EMBRACE OF THE SERPENT
By Tom Fuchs
Image courtesy of Oscilloscope
Less than a minute into Embrace of the Serpent, you’re
greeted with a whopper of a shot: our lead character, the native shaman
Karamakate, standing at the very edge where rainforest and river meet - nearly blended
into his surroundings, the sumptuous black and white cinematography combining
with the perfectly still water to create an effect not unlike an infinity room
where vegetation grows in all directions in perpetuity. This kind of image is the sort of thing
conjured up by Director Ciro Guerra and DP David Gallegro in abundance
throughout their picture, an astonishing snapshot of lush life among the
indigenous that will take your breath away.
It’s unfortunate that the story they house these wondrous feats of
visual poetry in isn’t quite their equal.
This isn’t to say the story itself isn’t satisfying, if only
in fits and starts. Loosely based on the
travel diaries of two actual explorers (the German Theodor Koch-Grunberg and
the American Richard Evans Schultes, of whom a quick Wikipedia glance would
clue you into their narrative trajectories) and their journey in search of a
mythical plant, the yakruna, which may or may not actually exist. Their two journeys take place thirty years
apart, the connective tissue being the aforementioned shaman. The last of his tribe, he is believed to be
the only extant person with the knowledge necessary to track down this sacred
vegetation. Thus, with Karamakate in
tow, the two men venture into the heart of darkness, their stories bleeding
together like tributaries in the river of time.
The film makes no attempt to hide its influences – a bit of
Aguirre here, a dash (or more) of Apocalypse Now there, even a conclusion
that harkens to 2001. And while it never
quite reaches the dizzying heights achieved by those peak-level cinema events,
it has a seductive and hypnotic quality all its own. Perhaps my narrative
issues were exacerbated by the encroaching colonialist threat only ever being spoken
instead of felt, with imagery so naturalistically oppressive it doesn’t support
the thesis* that man could ever conquer the environment that envelops him. But it’s a minor pittance in a movie of
constant exquisite beauty and infrequent narrative inspiration, one that may
prove utterly transfixing if you allow yourself to be swept up in its current,
ever downstream.
*Emotionally,
that is. Intellectually, I think we’re
all well aware of man’s – specifically white entitled man – capability and long
history of destroying any and all in the way of his material gains.
No comments:
Post a Comment