Showing posts with label mute imdb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mute imdb. Show all posts

Saturday, April 7, 2018

mute



When Duncan Jones was doing press for his excellent “Moon,” he told me that he already knew what his follow-up would be, a passion project called “Mute,” which he said would be to his first film as “Blade Runner” was to “Alien.” He also mentioned that the film would take place in the same universe as “Moon,” and that he hoped to make it soon. As often happens in Hollywood, hope is deferred, and Jones would make the great “Source Code” and the misfire “Warcraft” before returning to the ambitious project with a silent leading man. “Mute” premieres on Netflix today and it’s an interesting chapter in the company’s onslaught of sci-fi entertainment in recent months, including “Bright,” “The Cloverfield Paradox,” and “Altered Carbon.” Sadly, Jones’ passion has not made it to the screen in a way that’s likely to make viewers feel the same excitement he had about the project so many years ago.

“Mute” opens with an accident. An Amish child is horribly injured, and his parents refuse the surgery that could have saved his ability to speak. Cut forward a few decades to an almost cyberpunk future that looks like a blend of anime inspirations, “Blade Runner,” and the kind of thing Jones likely doodled in a notebook when he was bored in school. The whole aesthetic of “Mute” has a “teen fantasy” vibe to it from the tech gadgets that populate this version of Berlin to the weird sex robots and fetishes occasionally highlighted. This vision of the future is more colorful than Ridley Scott’s but it was clearly built on the template of his landmark film. 

In this city of hustlers, we meet Leo Beiler (Alexander Skarsgard), the adult version of the Amish kid from the opening scene. He works at an adult entertainment club with a waitress named Naadirah (Seyneb Saleh), whom Leo is dating. Jones takes his time establishing their relationship as a loving, sweet one—Skarsgard can convey a great deal of affection through only his eyes—but it’s also clear that Naadirah has a secret. Meanwhile, we meet a couple of American surgeons named “Cactus” Bill (Paul Rudd, sporting a soon-to-be legendary mustache) and Duck (Justin Theroux). They perform surgeries for criminal enterprises and Bill sulks his way around Berlin. He too clearly has a secret. Maybe it’s related to Naadirah’s? And then Leo’s girlfriend disappears, and our mute hero does whatever it takes to find her. 

Jones seems to embrace the noir roots of “Mute”—there’s a poster for “The Blue Angel” in one of the rooms and “the missing girl” is a classic noir set-up—but his piece doesn’t have nearly the atmosphere it needed to make the genre connection work. The production design is shockingly hollow, without a sense of world-building. It’s almost as if Jones and his team were too hesitant to just lean into their influences and so worked too hard to set their design apart, but that makes for inconsistencies and unengaging visuals. It’s perfectly fine to lean into a classic aesthetic like “Blade Runner”—“Altered Carbon” does so effectively—but don’t go halfway. 

Viewers likely won’t complain too much about the film’s look (although its design failures will register subconsciously), but they will notice that there’s almost no real sense of danger in this world, and so the stakes don’t seem high enough to care about what happens to anyone. The biggest problem comes down to pacing. The movie takes too long to go anywhere, and so it’s the kind of movie that you get an hour into before you realize that you don’t care about what’s happening. It doesn’t help that Rudd/Theroux and Skarsgard feel like they are in different movies tonally, and the former is more interesting. Skarsgard isn’t bad but Jones never quite broke how to convey his story without dialogue and so he seems more comfortable in the other one. And Rudd, as he often is, is the best thing about the film, finding a sleazy register he doesn’t often use as an actor, which makes the movie unbalanced and causes it to sag a little when it goes back to Leo’s quest. 

Ultimately, “Mute” is a mishmash of ideas in search of a movie. Jones is clearly an ambitious and interesting filmmaker. He’ll get over this misfire and possibly even complete what was once proposed as a loosely-connected trilogy. I hope it doesn’t take as long for that one to get to viewers as it did with “Mute” because it doesn’t seem like the delay did this project any favors.

Monday, February 26, 2018

duncan jones mute release date

http://tvcinemas.today/movie/401371/mute.html 
http://tvcinemas.today/movie/401371/mute.html


In a Berlin of the future, a mute bartender's search for his missing lady-love takes him deeper and deeper into the city's criminal underbelly.
Initial release: February 2018 (USA)
Director: Duncan Jones
Music composed by: Clint Mansell
Cinematography: Gary Shaw
Screenplay: Duncan Jones, Michael Robert Johnson


If one were to relax one’s eyes and stand very far away, the career of Duncan Jones might begin to resemble that of the young Hollywood savior he’s clearly angling to be. Like George Lucas before him, Jones made a name for himself with a blazingly original sci-fi sleeper (2009’s excellent Moon) which he then parlayed into a workmanlike box-office success (2011’s high-concept Source Code). But sometime in the five-year hiatus prior to 2016’s Warcraft, a difficult period marked by his wife’s battle with cancer and his father’s death, he strayed from the path. His adaptation of the popular online fantasy game was to be Jones’ graduation into the uppermost echelon of big-league film-making, but it was savaged by critics and ate dirt at the US box office  impulses.

Foremost among them is Leo Beller, your run-of-the-mill Amish bartender at Berlin’s premier robot strip club circa 2058. Portrayed with a carefully measured mix of glowering, breathing, blinking, and standing by Alexander Skarsgård , Leo has been rendered unable to speak by one of those throat-slashing Amish motorboating accidents that are always in the news. His pat quest to locate a missing girlfriend, in conjunction with Leo’s thin characterization and a minimal range of expression from Skarsgård , leads to one surpassingly boring performance. As he trudges through the warpath already well-trod by Taken and its numerous offspring, Skarsgård simply occupies space onscreen. If acting is music, he is noise, a series of vaguely related sounds.
Leo graciously cedes approximately half of the narrative attention to a pair of American surgeons, who have the decency to spruce Jones’ stultifying dialogue up with a bit of their own flavor. Paul Rudd and Justin Theroux appear to be doing everything in their estimable powers to have a bit of fun from under their ridiculous hairpieces (a robust full-face moustache and young Steve Jobs wig, respectively). The two are playfully homoerotic pals and partners-in-crime – literally, they sew gangsters up on the down-low for easy money – who have something to do with the mystery of Leo’s missing paramour, and that’s not discretion for the sake of the spoiler-averse. Their relation to the wider mechanisms of plot are not clear. Not merely tonally incoherent, the film’s denouement utterly defies comprehension; the barrage of inexplicable twists that closes out the film contains one of the more unexpected and staggeringly mishandled depictions of pedophilia in recent memory.
But after horror, sci-fi is the genre in which the portal to that rarefied realm of transcendent awfulness opens widest. When it becomes apparent that Mute will not be a great achievement in the usual sense, which happens after five minutes or so, the hope becomes that it will end up one of those intimately personal messes that driven auteurs sometimes vomit out. In dribs and drabs during Theroux and Rudd’s strand of story, Jones skims the heights of lunacy that make The Fifth Element and Jupiter Ascending fascinating in their flaws. But these windows close all too quickly, and the expanses of deadening stasis between them are too wide.
If Mute were a better film, it would provide a shining example of the Netflix machine functioning exactly as designed: write creators with vision a check, let them do their thing, and trust that the lack of oversight will translate to a product with integrity. Jones has spent 15 years trying to get this production off the ground, no small feat in an industry that has all but abandoned mid-budget genre pictures, and Netflix should come off looking like a guardian angel to visionaries frustrated by the studio system.
The problem is that Jones couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain and deliver work that rates even as “interesting”, the last salvation of flagrantly terrible movies. (How his post-digital Berlin could simultaneously look so expensive and so cheap may be a Zen riddle.) Instead, most disappointingly of all, the volleys of overindulgent inertia mount a convincing argument against the very class of release in sadly short supply at present. Watching Jones passively bob in the deep end of his imagination, a viewer longs for the compulsory baseline competence of the big studios – anything but the blandness masquerading as future cult bait.