☆☆☆☆
It's almost impossible to write about Mudbound without mentioning the way it has been released, because almost everyone who sees it will do so on Netflix -- at home, on the relatively small screen of their normal TV set, which will be calibrated as they always have it (meaning, almost certainly, poorly), using whatever sound system they always use.
That's the way I saw it, having missed its very short theatrical run in L.A., when it played in a handful of theaters for a few days in order to qualify it for the Oscars. It was, as they say, "dumped" in movie theaters, on its way to Netflix, where it is marketed as a "Netflix Original Movie" despite having multiple production credits.
All of this is a real shame because Mudbound deserves to be seen in a movie theater, with a projector that has been professionally calibrated, with speakers that can handle the intricate sound design, with a big screen that helps immerse you in the story and -- most importantly -- without the distractions that inevitably crop up when watching a movie at home. I've yet to find anyone, even the rarified few with a dedicated home theater, who can resist the temptation to do something other than keep focus on the movie while watching at home.
A movie theater limits your choices to maybe three: watch the movie, fall asleep, or leave. You give yourself over to a movie, its plot and its creative ambition when you watch a movie in a theater. Not so at home, no matter how dedicated or sincere a viewer you are. (Don't believe me? How many times have you "held it" in a movie theater versus pressing pause to take a bathroom break? The pause button doesn't just freeze the picture, but interrupts the narrative flow that a movie is designed to have.)
This all matters to Mudbound because it's a marvelous, absorbing, well-told and emotionally wrenching film that you might easily -- based on the marketing -- mistake for a "good-for-you" movie about race relations, when in fact it's a tremendously complex tale that is sprawling and visually magnificent. All of these things feel diminished in the living room.
Its story begins when the world is embroiled in World War II but the U.S. has remained safely distant. Around the time the Japanese invade Pearl Harbor, Henry McAllan (Jason Clarke) reveals to his wife Laura (Carey Mulligan) that he has bought a farm on the Mississippi Delta, and the family is going to move there. Laura and Henry have a complicated relationship, with the additional wrinkle of Henry's brother Jamie (Garrett Hedlund), who seems to have a soft spot for Laura, and she for him.
The family, including Henry's unrelievedly racist and always demoralizing Pappy (Jonathan Banks) moves. Jamie enlists. And Henry turns out to be a terrible businessman, whose savings have been swindled by a man who said he would rent them the big farmhouse but had no intention of doing so. The McAllans are forced to live in a ramshackle cabin, not far away from the Jackson family.
The Jacksons are sharecroppers who face the same plight as black Americans have for centuries: White people aren't going to do right by them. They know it. But still they try, and they all have dreams. Father Hap (Rob Morgan), mother Florence (Mary J. Blige) and their children, including Ronsel (Jason Mitchell) don't know what to make of the McAllans, who are working the same patch of land they have been tending to for years.
Ronsel goes off to fight in World War II, as well, and while life on the farm continues in its unrelentingly harsh, bleak way for both the McAllans and the Jacksons, the matriarchs of each family show particular strength, and turn to each other begrudgingly for support, while Henry and Pappy seem to find ways to make it more and more difficult.
If Mudbound has a real flaw, it's in the lack of focus its middle section has -- it moves back and forth between stories about the Jacksons, the McAllans, Ronsel and Jamie, but never quite emotionally connects them rather than hoping we'll continue paying attention through to its third act. It's a dramatic flaw that's heightened by being forced to watch it at home instead of in a movie theater.
When Ronsel and Jamie return, Mudbound becomes supremely confident, leading to a final third that is unnervingly good. Director Dee Rees, who wrote the film with Virgil Williams, pulls together all of the elements that have seemed so scattered -- character traits, small plot points -- for a shocker of a climax that packs a wallop.
Though that ending is softly hinted at in Mudbound's very first scene, Rees wisely hides the meaning of a couple of key lines until near the very end. Her dramatic sensibilities are enormously aided by beautiful cinematography by Rachel Morrison, which captures the scope without seeming overly prettified, and the thoughtful and careful editing of Mako Kamitsuna. The technical side of the film is so good that it strengthens the film even when the energy flags.
The performances are likewise terrific throughout, and it is particularly worth noting how effortlessly Mudbound is driven by its two female leads -- Mulligan and Blige -- even while ultimately telling a story that mostly belongs to Ronsel. In retrospect, it's easy to imagine Mudbound being even stronger by focusing in more intently on Ronsel, but it would have done so at the expense of its setting, which is so vividly and carefully conveyed.
Mudbound is a film that demands to be seen on a big screen, but won't. It's both a very worthwhile movie, and a rather worrisome sign of the times: There's no way not to be grateful that a movie like Mudbound gets a bigger audience than it might have had otherwise, but its disconcerting to know how small this big and impressive experience will seem to so many.
Viewed January 20, 2018 -- Netflix
That's the way I saw it, having missed its very short theatrical run in L.A., when it played in a handful of theaters for a few days in order to qualify it for the Oscars. It was, as they say, "dumped" in movie theaters, on its way to Netflix, where it is marketed as a "Netflix Original Movie" despite having multiple production credits.
All of this is a real shame because Mudbound deserves to be seen in a movie theater, with a projector that has been professionally calibrated, with speakers that can handle the intricate sound design, with a big screen that helps immerse you in the story and -- most importantly -- without the distractions that inevitably crop up when watching a movie at home. I've yet to find anyone, even the rarified few with a dedicated home theater, who can resist the temptation to do something other than keep focus on the movie while watching at home.
A movie theater limits your choices to maybe three: watch the movie, fall asleep, or leave. You give yourself over to a movie, its plot and its creative ambition when you watch a movie in a theater. Not so at home, no matter how dedicated or sincere a viewer you are. (Don't believe me? How many times have you "held it" in a movie theater versus pressing pause to take a bathroom break? The pause button doesn't just freeze the picture, but interrupts the narrative flow that a movie is designed to have.)
This all matters to Mudbound because it's a marvelous, absorbing, well-told and emotionally wrenching film that you might easily -- based on the marketing -- mistake for a "good-for-you" movie about race relations, when in fact it's a tremendously complex tale that is sprawling and visually magnificent. All of these things feel diminished in the living room.
Its story begins when the world is embroiled in World War II but the U.S. has remained safely distant. Around the time the Japanese invade Pearl Harbor, Henry McAllan (Jason Clarke) reveals to his wife Laura (Carey Mulligan) that he has bought a farm on the Mississippi Delta, and the family is going to move there. Laura and Henry have a complicated relationship, with the additional wrinkle of Henry's brother Jamie (Garrett Hedlund), who seems to have a soft spot for Laura, and she for him.
The family, including Henry's unrelievedly racist and always demoralizing Pappy (Jonathan Banks) moves. Jamie enlists. And Henry turns out to be a terrible businessman, whose savings have been swindled by a man who said he would rent them the big farmhouse but had no intention of doing so. The McAllans are forced to live in a ramshackle cabin, not far away from the Jackson family.
The Jacksons are sharecroppers who face the same plight as black Americans have for centuries: White people aren't going to do right by them. They know it. But still they try, and they all have dreams. Father Hap (Rob Morgan), mother Florence (Mary J. Blige) and their children, including Ronsel (Jason Mitchell) don't know what to make of the McAllans, who are working the same patch of land they have been tending to for years.
Ronsel goes off to fight in World War II, as well, and while life on the farm continues in its unrelentingly harsh, bleak way for both the McAllans and the Jacksons, the matriarchs of each family show particular strength, and turn to each other begrudgingly for support, while Henry and Pappy seem to find ways to make it more and more difficult.
If Mudbound has a real flaw, it's in the lack of focus its middle section has -- it moves back and forth between stories about the Jacksons, the McAllans, Ronsel and Jamie, but never quite emotionally connects them rather than hoping we'll continue paying attention through to its third act. It's a dramatic flaw that's heightened by being forced to watch it at home instead of in a movie theater.
When Ronsel and Jamie return, Mudbound becomes supremely confident, leading to a final third that is unnervingly good. Director Dee Rees, who wrote the film with Virgil Williams, pulls together all of the elements that have seemed so scattered -- character traits, small plot points -- for a shocker of a climax that packs a wallop.
Though that ending is softly hinted at in Mudbound's very first scene, Rees wisely hides the meaning of a couple of key lines until near the very end. Her dramatic sensibilities are enormously aided by beautiful cinematography by Rachel Morrison, which captures the scope without seeming overly prettified, and the thoughtful and careful editing of Mako Kamitsuna. The technical side of the film is so good that it strengthens the film even when the energy flags.
The performances are likewise terrific throughout, and it is particularly worth noting how effortlessly Mudbound is driven by its two female leads -- Mulligan and Blige -- even while ultimately telling a story that mostly belongs to Ronsel. In retrospect, it's easy to imagine Mudbound being even stronger by focusing in more intently on Ronsel, but it would have done so at the expense of its setting, which is so vividly and carefully conveyed.
Mudbound is a film that demands to be seen on a big screen, but won't. It's both a very worthwhile movie, and a rather worrisome sign of the times: There's no way not to be grateful that a movie like Mudbound gets a bigger audience than it might have had otherwise, but its disconcerting to know how small this big and impressive experience will seem to so many.
Viewed January 20, 2018 -- Netflix
No comments:
Post a Comment