For the second straight week I had to consult the web on the interpretation of a film. Last time it was
Enemy (2013), starring Jake Gyllenhaal. Last night I watched
Bokeh (2017), courtesy of Netflix. It's the story of two young Americans on vacation in Iceland who wake up to find themselves completely alone. All messaging on the internet has ceased, as has voice mail. Rather than go the typical sci-fi route, co-directors and co-screenwriters Geoffrey Orthwein and Andrew Sullivan chose to explore the characters reaction to the situation. After the initial shock, the male adopts a positive attitude, the female a negative one. Each is understandable, although the latter's is frequently trying. The woman, who has a religious background, is blown away that what has occurred. "It doesn't make any sense," she says several times. She is homesick. The male is energized by the freedom he now has. Unfortunately, that's basically all there is. No explanations are rendered. This is a strict character study. One aspect that bothered me is the woman not proposing the learning of navigation in order to get back to the states by boat. Of course, the pair might have perished in the attempt but, given what occurs, it would have been a better fate. I think their starting out on such a journey would have been a far better ending. Of course, in a work such as this, I may be missing a point being made. Credit must be given to the creators for presenting something different in their first big screen effort. I would be remiss not to mention cinematographer Joe Lindsay, who captured Iceland's beauty wonderfully. According to a review by Tasha Robinson at theverge.com, the film was done in summer, when the country experiences 23 hours of daylight. Shooting at three in the morning captured the requisite desolation perfectly. Young veterans Matt O'Leary and Maika Monroe are excellent in their roles. Despite their youth, each has amassed a considerable list of credits. 3000+ users at IMDb have rated
Bokeh, forging to a consensus of 4.9 on a scale of ten, too low in my opinion. Granted, it is slow moving and bleak, but it is worthwhile. Fortunately, it runs only 90 or so minutes. The title is a photography term - the aesthetic quality of the blur produced in out-of-focus parts of an image. I relate it to the reality of the characters' existence against the backdrop of the unknown. Here's a still from the movie:
While Texas is being battered by a hurricane, NYC is in the midst of a run of beautiful weather in what thus far has been a near ideal summer. My thanks to the gentleman who bought Nora Jones' breakout CD,
Come Away with Me, which features one of my all-time favorite tracks,
The Nearness of You, written by Ned Washington and Hoagy Carmichael in 1938 and rendered so touchingly by Jones. No matter how many times I play it on guitar, I can't get it right. My thanks also to Mr. Conspiracy, who purchased a pictorial on tools, and to Johnny, who bought thrillers by Wilbur Smith and John Sandford. The 30 or so books in Russian in my current inventory must have limited appeal. Despite careful scans by several passersby, not one sold.
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