Life of Pi
(2012)
SPOILERS WITHIN Ang Lee’s latest film is beautifully
directed (one of the few films I've seen - in 2D - where it’s instantly evident
that it warrants the 3D experience) but ultimately flounders as a rather
shallow meditation on the existence of God. Like an elaborate joke that builds
to a weak punchline, Life of Pi is
all build-up. When the gag comes the surprise is not so much one of deflation
as it is bafflement that so many people apparently think the joke is such a
good one, and further that they are able to find it funny for different
reasons. There can be no doubt of the artistry of the delivery, however, and
the visuals on display frequently evoke a sense of wonder that partially
forgive its philosophical shortcomings.
Going in, even though I had not Yann
Martel’s book (I was given a copy several years back, but it has remained indifferently
on the bookshelf for all that time, perhaps eluding my interest by dint of
being an “acclaimed bestseller”), I knew there was an aspect of the story
involving an "unreliable narrator" so I braced myself. In the movie
world, such constructs usually don't usually end well for me. There are rare
exceptions; The Adventures of Baron
Munchausen, buy its very nature, and both Fight Club and The Usual
Suspects manage to make something greater than the sum of their parts from
their twists. Life of Pi reminded me,
to an extent, of Slumdog Millionaire;
Slumdog’s narrator is not unreliable
as such (although the holes in the script invite such a conclusion), but he
introduces a contrived plot constructed to deliver a facile message (although
that in itself is murky; Slumdog has
been referred to as a fable, but if it is its message remains obscure). In Slumdog’s case the “fairytale” aspect
was a reward for the hardship endured to get there, but buying into this
requires a suspension of critical tools on the part of the audience; if you’re
demanding of internal coherence from the plot you’re asking for the wrong thing
because the film employs a classic get-out (it’s a “feel-good” movie); the
effect on me, as a viewer, is to disengage from the story being told.
Life
of Pi is more internally consistent, in that it
adopts the mode of parable to tell its tale, but it is ultimately no less glib
with its message. Although, the mode of parable only works in the context of
the narrator’s comparison with the second version of events; the tale of the
tiger on the boat is not a parable in and of itself (and it is unusual to have
a parable featuring both the character and what he represents; Pi and the tiger
are the same person). It uses the form so Spall’s narrator can point out who
represents who in the actual account and Pi can then deliver the message. I
have seen it referred to as a “parable about parables” which more approximates
its form.
Lee’s film amounts to easily digestible fast
food musing for the philosophically undernourished (I almost used the word
spiritually, but my argument is not really about which side of the belief/faith
fence the film comes down on). It’s pat and patronising, and easy to see why M
Night Shyamalan ultimately decided not to go ahead and direct it (although he
wrote an unused screenplay); the construction bears all the hallmarks of the
empty twist structure that grew tiresome to audiences somewhere around the time
The Village came out. Here, the
conceit of a “story that will make you
believe in God” is punctured early on by Irrfan Khan’s adult Pi (Khan, who
is very good, incidentally also appeared in Slumdog
Millionaire) when he tells Rafe Spall’s narrator (Spall’s not too
irritating here, probably because he doesn’t get to say much) that he makes no
such claims. Nevertheless, the theme has been positioned as central in the
minds of the audience. Should we expect to see something wondrous and profound
(which the visuals, and isolated setting reinforce once we reach the boat)?
And, to be fair, Lee excels himself in translating the theme into film form (“Which
story would do we prefer?”)
I was not expecting the film to dwell so
long on Pi’s early life; the introductory passages represent far more than a
bookend (which the second version of events most definitely is, despite its
importance). I had been unaware that Jean Pierre-Jeunet was attached to the
project until after seeing the film, but it was his quirky, heightened
sensibility that came to mind during these sections (perhaps Lee was summoning
his artistic spirit). Jeunet would certainly have done a better job of the
opening titles, however, which were “cute” in all the wrong ways. The actors
playing Pi at five and eleven years were both engaging. Suraj Sharma (teenage
Pi) has come in for some criticism for his perceived shortcomings as an actor
(he’s a first-timer), but while I have big problems with the film, he isn’t one
of them. These opening sections repeatedly underline the atheistic sensibility
of Pi’s father, who openly derides his son’s embrace of any religion that
crosses his path. So it goes to inform what will presumably be a battle between
rationality and faith over the next 90 minutes. Won’t it? Well, not really.
It’s interesting that, while more palatable
version of Pi’s story forms the core of the film, the alternate take is
truncated, related by Pi in his hospitable bed to two insurance investigators.
I’m unable to comment on how much time this account was given in the book, but
in the film it amounts to several minutes. Lee makes the choice not to employ
flashbacks to expose this grisly content. I can quite see why; if it were shown
at the backend of the film it would remain with viewer, overpowering the
romantic version. But it feels like a cheat, a rigged deck. We are shown one,
but don’t get to decide on the other. And, it may just be me playing Devil’s
Advocate, but as far as “which story do you prefer?” I would prefer to see a
telling of those events; how gory such scenes are is at the discretion of a
sensitive director and it would have been possible to render them while keeping
Life of Pi the right side of a horror
film. Hitchcock’s Lifeboat included
some fairly unpalatable elements (including a sailor with a broken leg that is
amputated and various murders) in a similar confined setting.
I have to admit, I was more engaged by the
apocryphal stories involving the name “Richard Parker” than anything I saw
involving him in the film. But it’s curious that the film tackles the
relationship between human and animal, and the conversation over animal
consciousness (Pi is a vegetarian and refers to Richard Parker’s soul during
his encounters), so diligently for such a period only to have it discarded when
it is revealed that the human was the animal all along. So too, a seemingly
resonant observation becomes less impactful when it’s immediate reference is
revealed as insubstantial.
Pi: I
suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go, but what
always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye.
Martel apparently approves of the film
version, while commenting that it is less ambiguous over which version is
“real”. Presumably, therefore, he agrees with the film’s take on God; the story
with the animals is the better story, “And
so it goes with God”. There appear to be different inferences from this is
stunning revelation (as profound statements go, isn’t it pretty trite really?) I
took away from it an unmistakable (Richard) Dawkins position; it is easier to
believe in God, because it is more comforting than the cold, harsh truth.
Others appear to have read into the line that there is no difference “since it makes
no factual difference and you can’t prove the question either way”. That seems
like a stretch, at least as far as the film is concerned; the viewer is
supposed to identify the horrific account as the actual one. So I’m not quite
sure how one can walk away inferring the message as an affirmation of faith and
belief in God. Yet there is clearly
sufficient wiggle room for this, from the Lord President of America down (he
referred to the book as “an elegant proof
of God, and the power of storytelling”).
While this open debate is interesting, up
to a point, it only reinforces that an idea the filmmakers would like to
present as a profound realisation is actually little more than an empty shrug.
It’s difficult to see the point as anything but a patronising one. To all-but
the least inquiring mind, anyway.
It would be tempting to dismiss the entire
film for the insubstantiality of its message but (again, not unlike Slumdog) it would be unfair to do so; to
malign Lee’s achievement in sustaining a narrative (fake or otherwise) as well
as he does (Hitchcock was at least aided by characters interacting with each
other), or to dismiss the achievement in effects and cinematography. Life of Pi may be a long way off from
profundity, but as a piece of filmmaking it is astonishingly accomplished (one
thing is certain, if this doesn't take the Best Special Effects Oscar something
is very skewy).
***
Comments
Post a comment