-By Eric Monder
For movie details, please click here.
Director-writer Mijke de Jong (
Bluebird) turns the dissolved
marriage of an affluent couple into a microcosmic study of societal
anomie in
Stages. Through a technique that alternates
between spontaneity and studiousness, the film leaves an indelible
impression.
In De Jong’s story (co-written with Jolein Laarman and partly
improvised by the actors), Roos (Elsie de Brauw) and Martin (Marcel
Musters) meet repeatedly at a posh restaurant in the Netherlands to
review the problems they experienced during their doomed marriage
and how it has impacted their teenage son, Isaac (Stijn Koomen).
Meanwhile, Isaac keeps to himself and acts out his frustrations by
brandishing a samurai sword in his bedroom and breaking into homes
in order to rummage through other people’s belongings.
Little else happens in the course of events. However, the parents,
Roos and Martin, slowly realize how self-absorbed they have been,
which leads to a rapprochement of sorts with Isaac.
For those who are patient,
Stages pays off with a
meditative, open-ended denouement. On the other hand, those
expecting a shocking conclusion after the slow, steady buildup will
be disappointed. (Think of J
eanne Dielman, In the Realm of the
Senses or
Caché.)
The rest of Stages weaves together the eatery scenes (mostly shot
in brightly lit
cinéma-vérité close-ups of the estranged
couple and/or their friends) and darkly lit medium and long-shot
extended takes of Isaac on his own. The physical, cinematic and
aesthetic split between the bourgeois parents and their disaffected
child makes more of a statement than any dialogue could. (In fact,
most of the parents’ chatter is mindless and inconsequential while
Isaac remains silent and deep in thought throughout his scenes.)
This commentary about the gulf between the generations is the
central point (a revisionist
Rebel Without a Cause, if you
will).
There isn’t a whole lot more to the film—but that is enough. In its
80 minutes, Stages comes together as an organic work thanks to wise
technique, solid performances and a plaintive message.
Film Review: Stages
Like an episode out of Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage, Stages distills the essence of a divorce into a few select moments. This Dutch import is hardly groundbreaking, but it captures human beings in existential crisis better than many bigger, more pretentious films of its type.
Nov 5, 2008
-By Eric Monder
For movie details, please click here.
Director-writer Mijke de Jong (
Bluebird) turns the dissolved marriage of an affluent couple into a microcosmic study of societal anomie in
Stages. Through a technique that alternates between spontaneity and studiousness, the film leaves an indelible impression.
In De Jong’s story (co-written with Jolein Laarman and partly improvised by the actors), Roos (Elsie de Brauw) and Martin (Marcel Musters) meet repeatedly at a posh restaurant in the Netherlands to review the problems they experienced during their doomed marriage and how it has impacted their teenage son, Isaac (Stijn Koomen). Meanwhile, Isaac keeps to himself and acts out his frustrations by brandishing a samurai sword in his bedroom and breaking into homes in order to rummage through other people’s belongings.
Little else happens in the course of events. However, the parents, Roos and Martin, slowly realize how self-absorbed they have been, which leads to a rapprochement of sorts with Isaac.
For those who are patient,
Stages pays off with a meditative, open-ended denouement. On the other hand, those expecting a shocking conclusion after the slow, steady buildup will be disappointed. (Think of J
eanne Dielman, In the Realm of the Senses or
Caché.)
The rest of Stages weaves together the eatery scenes (mostly shot in brightly lit
cinéma-vérité close-ups of the estranged couple and/or their friends) and darkly lit medium and long-shot extended takes of Isaac on his own. The physical, cinematic and aesthetic split between the bourgeois parents and their disaffected child makes more of a statement than any dialogue could. (In fact, most of the parents’ chatter is mindless and inconsequential while Isaac remains silent and deep in thought throughout his scenes.) This commentary about the gulf between the generations is the central point (a revisionist
Rebel Without a Cause, if you will).
There isn’t a whole lot more to the film—but that is enough. In its 80 minutes, Stages comes together as an organic work thanks to wise technique, solid performances and a plaintive message.
