Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

by Ari

The magical, heart-warming tone and life-spanning, back and forth structure of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has brought up early comparison to sentimental Oscar favorite Forrest Gump. The comparison is more like an accusation, a way to point a finger at edgy director David Fincher for pandering to the Academy and a mainstream audience. If you look at the surface of Benjamin Button, then yes, certain things will remind you of Zemeckis’ film. There’s a peculiar lead character who has a bunch of peculiar experiences with a bunch of peculiar people, and the story is kind of sweet and touching and funny all at once because, as we all know, schmaltz, sentiment and phony escapist entertainment is what the grumpy old voters go for.

Only, Benjamin Button isn’t very schmaltzy, the sentiment is mostly successful within the context of the story (not too sappy or melodramatic except for one thing I’ll get to in a moment), and the phony escapism is really nowhere to be found here, instead replaced by extraordinary spectacle and dazzling technical mastery. Fincher uses an old-fashioned, “movie magic” approach to unravel a stupendous Hollywood epic, but this particular spectacle, despite having a fantastical element, is grounded in devastating emotional truth and a depth of real life experience that was non-existent in Gump’s fantasy.

Eric Roth penned both scripts, but the excess of Forrest Gump has been tossed aside in favor of surprising earnestness. Perhaps it's Fincher’s sensibility guiding the story into the right place, but, for what it is, Benjamin Button is sincere and effective, leaning less on Frank Capra and aspiring toward the bittersweet beauty of late Fellini. Call it Fellini-lite, but the same sense of nostalgia, humor, tragedy and general oddball tangents you’ll find in something like Amarcord or And the Ship Sails On is also at play here. The reason it works is because Fincher seems interested in telling the story as convincingly and honestly as possible.

There’s not a terribly subtle approach for an epic-sized special effects film about death, so it’s to Fincher’s credit that on-the-nose dialogue like “you never know what’s coming”, “nothing ever lasts”, or “when the time comes, you just have to let go”, has dramatic weight when delivered. The uplifting moments flow from the narrative instead of feeling tacked on for sentimental value, though the re-occuring appearance of a humming bird will roll the eyes just a bit. But the lengthy speeches are emotional without preaching, and the film never talks down to the audience or tries too hard to squeeze out some tears.

Benjamin Button (Brad Pitt) ages backwards, born in an old man’s shriveled body, growing younger and healthier as his mind grows older and wiser. His entire history is told through a diary which is read to the love of his life, Daisy (Cate Blanchett), as she slowly slips away in a New Orleans hospital just as Hurricane Katrina begins to rage outside. The film is packed with metaphors and symbols (clocks, buttons, storms...humming birds) things to remind the viewer of lost time, the power of memory, the beauty and pain of love, and the inevitable fade to black that waits for us all...but again, Fincher handles everything with swift visual touches at just the right moments. In lesser hands it would be aggressive and overbearing, but here it’s delicate, precise and incredibly atmospheric.

Button’s life spans from growing up in a retirement home in New Orleans to having a love affair in Russia, with ventures in New York, Paris and India, and though it drags a bit in the first hour, the story takes off once the relationship between he and Daisy finally blossoms. The digital aesthetic requires a period of adjustment for the eyes, and some of the motion-capture CGI suffers from The Polar Express Effect (creepy computer eyes), however once everything settles down, the whole world comes alive with rich color and beautiful detail. Pitt and Blanchett are terrific as Benjamin and Daisy, both tender and heartbreaking as the sad truth of their world gradually takes its toll.