Atom Egoyen "The Sweet Hereafter" |
|
|
(35mm color film. 1997) Hooked immediately, the viewer drifts through the story of a school bus crash in a small Canadian mountain town. Compelled by wide snow covered shots, tender layers of sound, and characters who come alive in the first second they step onscreen, the film evokes more than it shows. The acting is natural, as
quiet and self-controlled as small town people can be. Ian Holm is a lawyer
with at least three motivations within him. Tom McCamus´ character
starts as an idealized, sweet father and gradually grows to be incredibly
revolting. Sarah Polley, who plays McCamus´ daughter, seems more
like a teenage girl than a teenage actress. Even the children convey silent
stress. Using the story of the Pied Piper, Egoyen connects old wisdom with the school bus crash: like the Piper who leads the children away into the mountain, the town's children are taken away from parents who couldn´t imagine the morning ritual was going to take this path. However, in the old story the wrongs of the town are easily identifiable. A little boy asks his babysitter (one of them will be killed, the other maimed the following day), "if the Pied Piper had the power to lead the children into the mountain, why didn't he just use his magic to get his money from the townspeople?" The girl responds, "he wanted to punish them." Why do things like this happen? Life is not so clear outside of stories. Why should the kids be punished? Although depictions of sexual activity are realistic and often important in any description of a time and a place, I often question whether many illnesses are more indicative of the filmmaker's mind than of reality. Reality can be profoundly twisted and violent, but film exaggerates this point. Egoyen admits he did not grow up in a Canadian mountain village such as the one in his story, which leads me to believe he filled in some juicy areas for the sake of boosting the story. It is not unsuccessful, but perhaps it is an unnecessary device. However, despite rank and horrible subjects mostly depicting violence towards children, the film is strangely peaceful. There is nothing shockingly out of place in the story, nor is there violence onscreen. The sound track of slow mediaeval music and slower, sweet country-pop lifts heavy snow, fog and small town tragedy into a sweet wash. One strong example of audio use is the scene with the lawyer stuck in the carwash. He walks through the wall of water to the station´s inner offices while the sound of a drifting, calm, guitar feedback washes the stage. Entering a dusty tool room, he sees a guitar resting against a chair, and reaches out to touch it. The tones of the soundtrack change slightly with the magnetism of his hand, and then resume their previous drone when he withdraws. When he notices the remains of the junked school bus parked out back, the guitar drifts with clear light as part of the soundtrack, and yet it is also rooted to the scene. Through a visual reference of the source, Egoyen seems to draw a bridge between the characters, the film itself, and finally to ourselves, the viewers. A complex, lovely film with many loose ends which do not need to be tied. A. Bergman |
||