Directed by:
Nicolas Winding RefnScreenplay:
Nicolas Winding RefnCinematography:
Larry SmithComposer:
Cliff MartinezCast:
Ryan Gosling, Vithaya Pansringarm, Kristin Scott Thomas, Yayaying Rhatha Phongam, Tom Burke, Gordon Brown, Oak Keerati, Byron Gibson, Sahajak Boonthanakit (more)VOD (2)
Plots(1)
Ryan Gosling and the director of DRIVE, Nicolas Winding Refn, are back with this visionary Bangkok-set thriller. Julian (Gosling) is a drug kingpin tasked with avenging his brother's death, but a mysterious, unhinged policeman is following his every move. (official distributor synopsis)
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Reviews (12)
Refn made a name for himself with the film Drive and decided that his approach must work every time. And so, once again, we get a gritty spectacle with blood splattering, stoic acting performances, long shots that mostly say nothing, and familiar faces, which Refn has been successfully incorporating since Valhalla Rising. The first half hour is fine and could bring almost anything, even a Tarantino-style bloodbath, but Refn won't give you that. He continues to stylize his film and does things his own way. I have to say, his approach to violence simply works for me. It looks incredibly good and realistic, which is enhanced by the use of a static camera. However, Julian's fight with the mob boss is an utter travesty. Unfortunately, the second half of the film is really about nothing, and the violence alone just can't save it. It's a shame because the start was much more promising.
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An experience that from the viewer’s perspective is something that combines orgasmic feelings with getting your fingernails ripped out, when you had the misfortune to be born with twenty fingers on each hand. The subjective running time of 300 years admittedly hypnotizes you with its visual fetish and almost hollowed-out narrative, where Gosling, for example, could easily have been replaced with a plush imitation of himself and it wouldn't have mattered. I don't begrudge Refn making films for himself; what bothers me is that he's considered a fantastic director, with his obsessive fascination with the image proving that, as a director, he's actually incompetent and lacking any kind of insight. And I don't buy his dedication to Jodorowsky as an alibi. Only God Forgives is essentially a photo-novel due to its static nature, and perhaps the likes of Greenaway would eat it for breakfast. In all its negatives, the film is reminiscent of the director's American debut, Fear X, or the anti-intellectual I Come with the Rain. But I can't help it, it's delicious eye-candy and offended me only a little bit. Now it's up to Refn what he comes up with next; I'd recommend a genre film, otherwise he doesn't have much of a place in a world where Gaspar Noé, Harmony Korine, or Danny Boyle are making visual art spectacles. I look forward to the reviews.
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Thanks to Drive, Nicolas Winding Refn conquered the world, only to drive away his newly discovered fans away with his dream project. A hypnotic atmosphere that compels you to immerse oneself in every dark shot is an amazing thing, but the slow storyline is so self-absorbed that I can't go any further, not even for Ryan Gosling's indecipherable gaze. In Bangkok everyone is betting on him more than ever before, and I honestly felt sorry for any audience members who have already had enough of Gosling's silent charisma. Personally, I still fawn over him instantly, but considering the surprisingly strong feeling that this is an empty fable set in perfect visuals, this time around I am indeed disappointed.
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Unlike Drive, this time I didn't get the impression that I was watching (or trying to watch) a self-important film about nothing. Only God Forgives is a very stylish, gritty short story from the Asian underworld, which confuses the viewer but is not confused itself, it moves forward a snail’s pace, but also at a persistent pace and boils under a seemingly immobile neon color level. The flaw on its beauty is only the not-exactly-convincing performance by Ryan Gosling - the silent looks in his performance look the same all the time, and I can't even imagine what he's experiencing or what he's thinking. Kristin Scott Thomas, of course, is in a completely different acting league, and her overbearing, bashful mobster makes her memorable.
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OK, when it’s Refn, I absolutely don't mind and have never minded superficiality. Not even being a poser. I always felt something more behind it - vibration, a unique vision, the ability to captivate through image. Only God Forgives is the first time that ostentatious self-affection and the importance attached to every (albeit non-plot) shot has severely bothered me. The entire film is actually the anti-thesis of Drive, an image of a passive, incompetent, insufficient, castrated protagonist, on whose side are neither justice nor sympathy. Unfortunately, Gosling's pleading gaze into the camera seems sometimes tragicomic, similar to the didactic repetition of castration motifs and the emphasis on the archetypality of the plot (sometimes horribly didactic). The plot element is as truncated and frustrating as the protagonist - it's certainly not a fail - it's an intention, a rather mischievous creative intention, which Refn ostentatiously presents to us. Disconnection, inconsistency, extraordinariness - what made sense to me in Valhalla Rising as a lyrical poem resonates in Only God Forgives as an empty and pompous mannerism, gratification of the armless, sometimes even rebellious and strenuously aggressive. Mechanical declamations, the absence of logic, a bizarrely interconnected world in which the only possible order rules - the order of the director's ego. For me, a completely empty pose, empty enough to frustrate me. A few scenes are, of course, masterful (the fight, the chase through the city, ending with a recipe for a funny wok pan), but the enchantment of the whole faded. Nicolas Winding Refn reduced to excess.
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