Tag Archives: Lynne Ramsay

You Were Never Really Here-2018

You Were Never Really Here-2018

Director Lynne Ramsay

Starring Joaquin Phoenix

Scott’s Review #932

Reviewed August 19, 2019

Grade: A-

You Were Never Really Here (2018) is an independent psychological thriller that is most reminiscent in tone and texture of the legendary Scorsese film Taxi Driver (1976).

The main characters are worlds apart, but the classic influences the plot and trimmings amid a different period (the present).

A terrific and brooding performance by star Joaquin Phoenix leads the charge, as does the fantastic direction by Lynne Ramsay and the editing team. The dark film is an unusual and impressive choice for a female director.

Snippets of cinematic genius exist during a film that, with a more complete package, might have been a masterpiece.

We first meet Joe (Phoenix) somewhere in Ohio, as we learn he is a hired gun sent to rescue underage girls from sex trafficking rings. He is brutal in his methods of rescue, resorting to gruesome murders to complete his assignments, and is paid handsomely.

In New York City, he cares for his elderly mother, whom he adores, and is contacted to rescue Nina, the daughter of a New York State Senator, Albert Votto, for an enormous sum.

When Joe rescues Nina and waits for Votto, events quickly spin out of control, revealing a sinister web of deception.

When you look at the story that You Were Never Really There tells, it has been told many times before, typically in slick Hollywood conventional standards.

An angry ex-military man unleashes brutality on devious criminals, rescues the girl, and returns her safely to the open arms of her awaiting parents.

Fortunately, the film is more thoughtful than that, adding complexity to the Joe and Nina relationship and a stylistic, poetic quality featuring Joe’s relationship with his mother.

The plot is paced very well so that the events occur over only a day or two, and the film is highly unconventional and dark.

Frequent flashbacks give the film mystique as we see both Joe and his mother abused by Joe’s father, as a young Joe hides in a closet and hyperventilates. Now an adult, Joe is suicidal, frequently fantasizing or practicing his death until he is interrupted.

As grisly as the film can be, beautiful and tender moments are laden throughout as Ramsay provides gorgeous style and humanity. a homoerotic moment occurs when Joe lies next to the man who has killed his mother.

As the man is close to death at the hands of Joe, they hold hands as Joe provides comfort to the man in death. Joe then buries his mother in a pond in upstate New York, providing her with a peaceful final resting place. These are unique scenes that feel almost like an art film.

The conclusion is open-ended, leaving lots of questions. Joe and Nina appear to ride off into the sunset together, but what will they do? What is to become of them? Surely, no romantic element can be found, but where will they go from here?

Both characters appear to have nothing left to hang on to other than each other, but is this sustainable?

The film is not the type that is poised for a sequel, but I would be very curious about what Ramsay has planned for her characters.

Joe is not portrayed as wicked; he is too complex for that. Phoenix, a tremendous actor, perfectly infuses the character with brutality, anger, tenderness, and warmth.

The similarities between You Were Never Really Here and Taxi Driver—the grizzled New York portrayals, the political backdrop, and the main characters saving a woeful young girl from the depths of despair—make the two films comparable.

However, Joe and Travis Bickle are opposites, the latter having frenetic humor that the former lacks.

Ramsay has been around for a while, with We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011) being her most prominent film. She is successful at telling stories about deeply troubled individuals who are good people given awful circumstances.

With a tremendous actor like Phoenix on board, she crafts a solid work that has garnered accolades, at least among the indie critics, for You Were Never Really Here (2018). Ramsay seems poised to break out in a big way and shake up the film industry with future works.

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: 1 win- Best Feature, Best Director- Lynne Ramsay, Best Male Lead- Joaquin Phoenix, Best Editing (won)

We Need to Talk About Kevin-2011

We Need to Talk About Kevin-2011

Director Lynne Ramsay

Starring Tilda Swinton, Ezra Miller, John C. Reilly

Scott’s Review #785

Reviewed July 9, 2018

Grade: A

We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011) is a tremendously disturbing independent drama with eerie similarities to the infamous Columbine school shooting massacre.

The point of view of the film is from the perspective of Eva (Tilda Swinton), a haggard, troubled mother doubting her love for her violent teen son.

Swinton was shamefully overlooked for an Academy Award nomination despite her brilliant and breathtaking role. The overall film itself is equally astounding and powerful.

Adapted from a Lionel Shriver novel, the events of the film begin in present times after tragedy has occurred. Eva, once a successful, writer of affluent means, now lives alone in a rundown house near a prison where she frequently visits her son Kevin (Ezra Miller).

She is now reduced to working a mundane job in a travel agency while terrorized by neighbors who blame her for her son’s machinations. Chillingly, Eva ponders the warning signs Kevin exhibited throughout his childhood and tortures herself with thoughts of what she could have done differently to prevent the shootings and the death of her loved ones.

Uniquely, the film segues to before Kevin was even born. Eva and her husband Franklin (John C. Reilly), happily welcome their baby boy, but he is immediately “not right” and difficult and cold towards her.

This behavior continues over the years as Kevin is distant towards Eva, but warm and adoring towards his father, leading to mental games and the death of a pet. When Eva and Franklin have another child things get progressively worse leading to tragic events.

The film is a pure masterpiece with riveting acting performances all around (especially Swinton) and a slow, plodding pace. This is a perfect aspect of the film because there is a continuous gloomy and moody vibe.

Director, Lynne Ramsay, reveals all in the beginning moments of the film so we know how events will transpire, but the pure enjoyment is the development of the characters.

Dad, Franklin, and daughter, Celia, are around, but the film belongs to the characters of Eva and Kevin and their relationship with each other.

Many questions will be asked throughout the film (I know I asked myself these questions).

Should any blame be cast upon Eva or is she purely innocent? How about Franklin? Is Kevin just a “bad kid”? Was Eva wrong for breaking Kevin’s arm in anger, or justified? Should Eva have never had kids because of her earlier doubts? Should she have been more proactive in getting treatment for Kevin?

Swinton delivered her career-best performance and while she was recognized with a Golden Globe nomination, the ultimate gold statuette (Oscar) alluded to her. I find this to be troubling especially since she won for 2007’s Michael Clayton, a very good performance, but not on the same level as Eva.

Swinton is one of the great modern actresses and hopefully, great roles will continue to follow this treasured star.

Almost on par with Swinton is a young talent, Ezra Miller. A relative newcomer in 2011 he appeared in the indie gem The Perks of a Wallflower (2012) and in later years traversed into more mainstream fare like Trainwreck (2015) and Suicide Squad (2016).

We Need to Talk About Kevin remains his best and most challenging effort.

One of the best sequences occurs during the school massacre scene. Shot at night time (and in my adopted hometown of Stamford, Connecticut!) the sequence involves flashing police lights and chaos as Eva approaches the school in horror. With no dialogue, we see Kevin enter the school and render the doors useless as an escape route.

Terrified students are murdered as Kevin erupts with maniacal rage. The scene is downright chilling and incredibly effective.

2017’s The Killing of a Sacred Deer reminds me quite a bit of We Need to Talk About Kevin in tone and style, so much so that I wonder if the latter was watched and studied before the former.

Either way, the duo could be watched subsequently for a double-dose of teenage maniacs.

With a bleak and dark tone, We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011) offers a story that has a clear message. Never discussing the hot topic of gun control, guns are not used in the slaughter, a bow is, weapon restrictions will nevertheless be an obvious discussion point.

This film is one to be observed, savored, dissected, and thought about after the finale, and is one to be remembered as a great piece of cinema.