Overview: In 1950s Mexico City, William Lee, an American ex-pat in his late forties, leads a solitary life amidst a small American community. However, the arrival in town of Eugene Allerton, a young student, stirs William into finally establishing a meaningful connection with someone.
Were it not for the fact that it features an ex "007", I reckon this would be an almost instantly forgettable gay-themed drama that could easily be found on Dekkoo in a year to two. Anyway, Daniel Cra...
Were it not for the fact that it features an ex "007", I reckon this would be an almost instantly forgettable gay-themed drama that could easily be found on Dekkoo in a year to two. Anyway, Daniel Craig is the independently wealthy "Lee" and living in a Mexico City where in between tequila and heroine sessions, he tries to pick up young men. He's not a bad looker and so usually gets some entertainment (paid for, or otherwise) but then he spots an enigmatic young man who comes to their local bar to play chess with a red-headed woman. Intrigued, his usually effective introductions seem to fall on beautiful but disinterested eyes and ears, but he persists and soon manages to befriend student "Eugene" (Drew Starkey). Even though they drink and chat together, he still isn't sure if his new challenge is even eligible for some furious jogging. Indeed, the young man is so completely non-committal and tractable that it's impossible for him to be sure about almost anything about him. Napoleon brandy might help provide an answer, and it does - of sorts, but an extremely satisfactory one for the older man who is clearly becoming obsessed with a man who at best displays indifference to him. "Lee" isn't used to this sensation, but he simply has to have something more meaningful with this man. He cannot just be an another notch on the bedpost, and so he turns his mind to a trip round South America and to take a travelling companion. Why there? Well he's read of a secret plant that he believes both the KGB and CIA are using for it's famed telepathic powers. Perhaps if he finds it, he can reach into the very mind of his gorgeous antagonist? What the men do manage to find in the midst of the Ecuadorian jungle is Lesley Manville and at this point the wheels really came off for me. At the very end, the closing slide says "William S. Burroughs' Queer" as if Luca Guadagnino was saying to us - 'don't blame me". Sure there are some sex scenes, but they are all blink and you'll miss them (and in the trails anyway), so what are we actually left with? A story of an ageing drunk and a narcissistic young man playing a rather depressing form of "cat and mouse" meets "house"? To be fair, Craig delivers strongly indeed, but to what end? His character has nowhere to go, and his range of dependencies are neither attractive nor especially plausible as the second half of the story enters the surreal in quite a desperate way. Starkey has very few meaningful lines and so relies on his perfectly man-scaped appearance to present a persona that is easy on the eye but not remotely troubling for the brain, and that's largely in keeping with the whole story that just lacks substance. It's bizarrely unfulfilling on just about every front and really quite characteristically impotent. There's simply nothing natural about it and as tale of flawed humanity goes, well so what - I didn't care. It looks good, sounds good and has an altogether polished finish to it, but like a meringue there's little to delve into.
Brent Marchant:
Filmmaking that calls for its audiences to study up on its source material (not to mention the life of the creator of that source material) before screening it is, in my opinion, irresponsible, placin...
Filmmaking that calls for its audiences to study up on its source material (not to mention the life of the creator of that source material) before screening it is, in my opinion, irresponsible, placing an undue burden on viewers in advance. Indeed, if a picture is unable to stand on its own to be at least modestly comprehensible on its face, then that’s a production with an innate handicap from the outset. Such is the case with director Luca Guadagnino’s film adaptation of author William S. Burroughs’s 1985 semi-autobiographical novella, a glacially paced, meandering, pretentious, often-inscrutable work of smug cinematic nonsense. The film tells the story of William Lee (Daniel Craig), a gay, well-heeled American expat living in Mexico in 1950. He spends much of his time as a barfly in search of fulfilling incessant hedonistic appetites, particularly his pursuit of a young former GI, Eugene Allerton (Drew Starkey), a handsome but ambivalent, noncommittal flirt whose sexual orientation is unclear at best. However, once Lee finally manages to catch the eye of his romantic prospect, the two launch into an on-again/off-again relationship in which they vie for control of the direction it will ultimately take. This rocky odyssey takes them from Mexico to Ecuador and eventually to the South American jungle, where they go in search of the plants used to make ayahuasca. And, in the process, the story becomes an increasingly unfocused, preposterous collection of quasi-psychedelic imagery and surrealistic sequences that make little coherent sense. It’s so ridiculous, in fact, that the narrative becomes laughable, making the filmmaker’s earlier pictures “Call Me By Your Name” (2017) and “Suspiria” (2018) look like pillars of sparkling eloquence by comparison. The fault here lies in a dreadful script full of holes and unexplained developments borne out of lapses in coherence. To its credit, the film’s gorgeous and sometimes-inventive cinematography is admirable, backed by a fine production design and unexpectedly suitable soundtrack. The picture also features Craig’s best screen performance to date, one that shows off the depth of his talent and has earned him numerous accolades, despite the abysmal quality of the material he’s been handed to work with. And it provides a fitting vehicle for a surprisingly effective comedic turn by Jason Schwartzman. At the same time, though, the casting is hampered by Starkey’s sleepwalking portrayal, one that’s about as appetizing as a bowl of reheated canned soup, and a positively embarrassing performance by the usually-reliable Lesley Manville. Without a doubt, movies based on material written by Burroughs are undeniably an acquired taste, but this latest offering drawn from his repertoire represents a serious lack of cognizance, engagement and enlightenment. By all means, please skip this one.
