Friday 30 August 2013

An in-depth analysis of Only God Forgives



*** SPOILER ALERT ***
(Not only does this spoil the movie, it will be incomprehensible if you haven't seen it first)

So we’re about to get into something unusual for BMC: actual film criticism. Yes folks, it’s that time of year again. I’ve seen the One Serious Movie that I’ll probably see this year, which also happens to be one of 2013’s most divisive.

I saw Only God Forgives with a film student friend, whose initial reaction was: ‘Well… it was no Drive.’ And he’s right – it isn’t. However, people are wrong in expecting it to be simply because of the Nicolas Winding Refn/Ryan Gosling pairing. As such, it cannot be judged on the same merits. These are entirely different –in fact thematically opposite – movies (more on that later).

I was more disappointed by is the lack of critics truly probing this film than by the film itself. Analyses I’ve seen so far have been cursory at best, except Chris Stuckman, who is an avowed Refn fan and seems to have drawn a lot of the same conclusions as I.

The following is my interpretation of the film – and there are bound to be many – which hinges heavily on two points.

1. Everything we see is deliberate. There are a lot of critics who felt the movie was light on plot, that Refn didn’t have the same degree of control or assuredness with this movie as he did with Drive, or that OGF was just a flat-out poorly executed revenge tale. I think the opposite. When you look at a film as meticulously crafted as Drive, and observe the quality and care in the cinematography and production design here, it’s impossible to conceive of anything haphazard being in this movie. I believe we are seeing exactly what Refn wants us to. This is not to say that all his decisions are good, merely that they are all purposeful.

2. This is an allegorical tale. This is the main way in which Drive and OGF differ. While the former is a literal tale with symbolism inserted tactically, Refn’s latest is entirely symbolic, with minimal situational elements thrown in for it to have some basis in real life.

Considering Refn’s previous work, I don’t think these are such radical assumptions to get behind.

Only God Forgives is, unsurprisingly, about redemption (no shit dude it’s in the title). Specifically, it’s about Julian’s redemption. This man clearly has a tortured past and is being pulled in two directions. We see this manifested in an idealised, compassionate self, and a brutish, violent self.

Assuming nothing is an accident in this movie, I think that costuming plays a big part. For the opening act of the movie, we see Julian in either a plain black or white t-shirt. I considered the actions we see Julian perform in the white shirt:


  • He feeds the stray dog (something that is more of a folkway in developing countries)
  • He lets his brother’s killer go free and later tries to reason with his mother about it
  • He imagines himself touching Mai delicately (something he does not do in real life)
  • He gives Mai a dress and proposes they pretend to be in a relationship


Then of course we are introduced to the dark side (dark shirt), in which he:


  • Oversees drug deals
  • Mimics/idolises the muay thai fighter statue (in fact he's always clenching his fists in this shirt), which I would argue is tantamount to worshipping violence
  • Has his hands tied by Mai (I don’t remember him ever touching her or behaving affectionately while wearing the black shirt)
  • Has a vision of his hand being severed by Chang (i.e. his guilt manifests itself darkly)
  • Beats the shit out of two guys for no reason
And drags one of them by his teeth through this fucking gorgeous shot

With practically no dialogue, we are introduced to the two warring sides of Julian. We later meet his mother, who obviously brings out the darkness in him (and is implicitly the cause of it).

The relationship between Julian and Crystal is pretty unmistakably Oedipal. The similarities are glaring:


  • Parents contemplating infanticide
  • Relationship of sexual nature between mother and son
  • The son killing the father
  • After committing said murder, the son enters a self-imposed exile


Freud argued that the Oedipus complex was a man’s subconscious desire to return to the womb. He asserted that this desire manifested itself sexually, but in OGF’s most shocking scene we see Julian doing this more literally but cutting Crystal’s stomach open and immersing his hand in it.

But before that she looks incredible in this movie. EVERYTHING looks incredible in this movie.
 
These parallels are clear and, as per my initial assumptions, almost certainly deliberate. I feel the link to Greek mythology is paramount, as it carries deeper implications and meaning for the rest of the film.

The Greek notion of the Underworld is not one of burning for eternity; it is more like a waiting room for the damned. The realm of Hades is where souls wait to be judged for their actions during life, and they are either rewarded or punished for these. Hades himself is the ruler of this Underworld, acting as judge, jury, and executioner.

No critiques or interpretations of the film that I have seen have given any consideration to Chang’s name, which I’m certain is also no accident. Chang is the Thai word for ‘elephant,’ an animal that is a symbol of royalty, power, and purity in their culture. This explains not only who Chang is in this movie, but also why everyone treats him with deference or reverence.

The Greek vision of the Underworld is a facsimile for Refn’s ominous Bangkok. Chang is the acknowledged ruler of this Underworld, and therefore the de facto lawgiver or moral epicentre of the film. 

You know what else rules? This shot.
He distributes justice as he sees fit, specifically (and this is super important) punishing people who mistreat children and sparing people who tend to them.  

In the film’s third act we see Julian don the three-piece suit, which sees the light and dark garb intermingled. This is appropriately the moment where we observe the conflict in him surge. He lashes out at Mai, challenges the God figure to a fight (which Refn has straight-up said was a thematic driving force of the movie), and appears ambivalent about exacting revenge on Chang. We see in these moments the dark influence of his mother opposing the desires of his idealised self.

His ultimate test, and the act upon which I posit he is judged, is the last decision he makes in this movie: whether or not to murder Chang’s kid. Crystal orders Julian and another lackey to ‘kill them all,’ and here we witness his first decisive disobedience of her. He overcomes the hold she has on him and saves the child from death. Tellingly, this is the structural climax of the film, rather than his fight with Chang.

The final scene shows Julian offering himself up for judgment in a peaceful environment. Whereas earlier in the movie, his visions of judgment by Chang’s sword came from a dark, cavernous, frightening place, he now meets it in the light, graced by an abiding calm. Chang does not kill him; instead, he severs Julian’s hands, much as he did with the young girl’s father at the beginning of the film. I interpret this as an acknowledgment of sin and repentance, but one that spares Julian’s soul, since he has proven himself as a moral being. This is the diametric opposite of Drive, the point of which was that Driver couldn’t really escape his nature.

Redemption is perhaps the most commonly recurring narrative theme in film. Only God Forgives, however, demarcates itself by stripping the plot bare and dealing with it in a far more mythic and appropriately violent fashion (theology is brutal, for those who need reminding). Julian’s road to redemption is told not through words, but striking imagery, significant allegory, and more than a few dashes of blood.

Interpreted this way and judged on these merits, I feel that Only God Forgives is a strong, if flawed, piece of filmmaking. More importantly it is a case in point for why critics are assholes. Two years ago critics lined up to suck Michel Hazanavicius’ dick for The Artist, saying his return to the silent film was stylish and triumphant. Here and now, you have Refn basically doing the same thing (trying to tell a story non-verbally) and everyone is treating him like a fucking chauch.

There are admittedly many things in the film I didn’t like:


  • The violence is gratuitous and, by Refn’s own admission, fetishistic
  • Gosling’s performance would arguably not have suffered from him being a little more expressive
  • The karaoke scenes are lost on audiences who don’t understand their place in Thai culture (like me)
  • The film doesn’t treat women with much sympathy. Strictly speaking I suppose you don’t have to, but come on dude. Women exist in this movie either to be brutally murdered and/or have their bodies defiled. To be fair, the men don’t get much better but there are at least some male characters to like in this movie.
But even when I don't like it, it looks like fucking THIS.

All totalled, the film does more things well than it does poorly. Its imagery is lush and rich, its proceedings have palpable intensity that keep you captivated, the Cliff Martinez score is sure to be one of the year’s best, and stylistically it is one of the most distinctive films you’ll ever see. Despite its detractors, it is a bold piece of work that I’m convinced will be studied and discussed for years to come.

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