When a godfather of American cinema returns from retirement after a decade, that's bound to be interesting, at least.
In case of Francis Ford Coppola's "Youth Without Youth," the event also turned out to be "interesting," in the sense of saying politely, "What the hell?!"
In the over-hyped and underwhelming "Golden Compass," characters are accompanied by their "demons" in animal form. Coppola goes that one better in "Youth" by having a friendly alter ego of the Professor tag along in the flesh and have conversations with himself (until one kills the other). However, personalities do not split during sequences that are projected upside-down. Why two characters, why upside-down scenes? These and other mysteries may or may not be explained during the film. In my case, no explanation was discerned; might well have been my fault.
The Professor (of linguistics) is played by Tim Roth. He is 70 at the beginning of this two-hour adventure in deep thought and annoying puzzles, but early on, he gets hit by lightning, and turns into 40. His teeth fall out, but he grows new ones. The place is Romania and the time is the 1930s. Old and young Professor is in love with Hitler's secretary, and the newly young man is treated for his lightning burns and understandable confusion by Hitler himself.
OK, this is not fair. "Youth" is confusing enough without fooling around with actors and characters, so let me give you the straight poop: the doctor is played by Bruno Ganz (Hitler in the magnificent "Downfall"), and the Woman is Alexandra Maria Lara, who was Traudl Junge in "Downfall," the young woman through whose eyes life in the bunker became revealed.
Ganz and Lara have been sensational in just about everything they have done. In "Youth," not so much. Whether speaking English or, in case of the Woman, Sanskrit, Urdu, or Before-History Language, there is a sense of Tiger-Lilly-subtitle disconnect in their performances.
What's with those languages? They are very important. The Professor wants to find the origin of human speech (starting in Romania, of course), and the Woman is de-evolving in a complying fashion. Why? How? To what end? Meaning what? Search me - I never went beyond a master's degree in philosophy, and my philological explorations terminated with Leonard Bernstein's facile, shallow, and entertaining exposition in the Norton Lectures.
Honestly, I am stalling here, because I just cannot think of anything to say except "interesting." Well, maybe "galling." Two hours of weirdness, looking for meaning, not having any, watching something so self-indulgent that it will make your teeth hurt - and you won't have new ones growing.
Let's hear it for Ganz's Doctor, however, with his quaint method of sterilization: after handling blood or before performing a procedure, he wipes his hands on his jacket. Consistently. Roth's character, in addition to the quest for the origin of language, he is also dealing with the meaning of time, of life, of meaning. Unlike Douglas Adams, who had provided the answer to life, universe, and everything (42), "Youth" will give you no clue whatsoever.
Most of the film was shot in Romania, almost in secret. There are Romanian locations, crew, and cast. The little country has a lot of talent: Romanians also act as Italian philologists, Indian sages, German scientists, what have you. Most of them and Roth do well. A surprise in the soundtrack: Coppola hired one of the most promising youngish composers in the world, Osvaldo Golijov (U.S. resident, born in Argentina, of a Romanian mother), who instead of providing one of his brilliantly original scores, came up with Mahler quotes and variations on them.
Coppola is writer, director, producer, financing the project by himself. Why did he make it? "Like the leading character, I was tortured and stumped by my inability to complete an important work. At 66, I was frustrated. I hadn't made a film in eight years. My businesses were thriving, but my creative life was unfulfilled."
And so to "Youth" - a vanity project, a pile of muddleheaded philosophizing without the restraint of investors, studio politics and demands, or of good sense. He wanted to learn "how to express time and dreams cinematically," Coppola has said. "Making a movie is like asking a question, and when you finish, the movie itself is the answer." For "Youth," the "answer" at the end of two hours is: "What was the question?"
In case of Francis Ford Coppola's "Youth Without Youth," the event also turned out to be "interesting," in the sense of saying politely, "What the hell?!"
In the over-hyped and underwhelming "Golden Compass," characters are accompanied by their "demons" in animal form. Coppola goes that one better in "Youth" by having a friendly alter ego of the Professor tag along in the flesh and have conversations with himself (until one kills the other). However, personalities do not split during sequences that are projected upside-down. Why two characters, why upside-down scenes? These and other mysteries may or may not be explained during the film. In my case, no explanation was discerned; might well have been my fault.
The Professor (of linguistics) is played by Tim Roth. He is 70 at the beginning of this two-hour adventure in deep thought and annoying puzzles, but early on, he gets hit by lightning, and turns into 40. His teeth fall out, but he grows new ones. The place is Romania and the time is the 1930s. Old and young Professor is in love with Hitler's secretary, and the newly young man is treated for his lightning burns and understandable confusion by Hitler himself.
OK, this is not fair. "Youth" is confusing enough without fooling around with actors and characters, so let me give you the straight poop: the doctor is played by Bruno Ganz (Hitler in the magnificent "Downfall"), and the Woman is Alexandra Maria Lara, who was Traudl Junge in "Downfall," the young woman through whose eyes life in the bunker became revealed.
Ganz and Lara have been sensational in just about everything they have done. In "Youth," not so much. Whether speaking English or, in case of the Woman, Sanskrit, Urdu, or Before-History Language, there is a sense of Tiger-Lilly-subtitle disconnect in their performances.
What's with those languages? They are very important. The Professor wants to find the origin of human speech (starting in Romania, of course), and the Woman is de-evolving in a complying fashion. Why? How? To what end? Meaning what? Search me - I never went beyond a master's degree in philosophy, and my philological explorations terminated with Leonard Bernstein's facile, shallow, and entertaining exposition in the Norton Lectures.
Honestly, I am stalling here, because I just cannot think of anything to say except "interesting." Well, maybe "galling." Two hours of weirdness, looking for meaning, not having any, watching something so self-indulgent that it will make your teeth hurt - and you won't have new ones growing.
Let's hear it for Ganz's Doctor, however, with his quaint method of sterilization: after handling blood or before performing a procedure, he wipes his hands on his jacket. Consistently. Roth's character, in addition to the quest for the origin of language, he is also dealing with the meaning of time, of life, of meaning. Unlike Douglas Adams, who had provided the answer to life, universe, and everything (42), "Youth" will give you no clue whatsoever.
Most of the film was shot in Romania, almost in secret. There are Romanian locations, crew, and cast. The little country has a lot of talent: Romanians also act as Italian philologists, Indian sages, German scientists, what have you. Most of them and Roth do well. A surprise in the soundtrack: Coppola hired one of the most promising youngish composers in the world, Osvaldo Golijov (U.S. resident, born in Argentina, of a Romanian mother), who instead of providing one of his brilliantly original scores, came up with Mahler quotes and variations on them.
Coppola is writer, director, producer, financing the project by himself. Why did he make it? "Like the leading character, I was tortured and stumped by my inability to complete an important work. At 66, I was frustrated. I hadn't made a film in eight years. My businesses were thriving, but my creative life was unfulfilled."
And so to "Youth" - a vanity project, a pile of muddleheaded philosophizing without the restraint of investors, studio politics and demands, or of good sense. He wanted to learn "how to express time and dreams cinematically," Coppola has said. "Making a movie is like asking a question, and when you finish, the movie itself is the answer." For "Youth," the "answer" at the end of two hours is: "What was the question?"