Only God Forgives

Sometimes a director will take time perfect their craft before finally releasing the film that puts them on our radar. Sometimes that film never comes.  Sometimes it comes too soon and then they don't know what to do with themselves. Or more tragically it comes too late. Nicholas Winding Refn's key moment is almost undeniably Drive. Before Drive he possessed a spotty, confused selection of bizarre and violent films that it could be said are predominantly bunk with some brilliant moments of pure inspiration. I'm sure anyone with terrific foresight could see he had potential for something quite spectacular, and certainly with hindsight we can all appreciate his flawed experiments. I mean, flawed innovation is always better a reliable dullard we all saw coming, right?

So I guess that's why Only God Forgives is such a bizarre film. With Refn seemingly perfecting a long experimented design, it would seem he isn't happy, and much preferred the world of trying new ideas. That's not to say that Only God Forgives is wholly original. It's story and most of its characters are brutally familiar and in no way surprising. In fact 50% of the film plays out like a traditional tale of crime-family revenge and its, frankly, really boring. This 50% felt so familiar I wondered if it was supposed to be a remake of a film I had seen and since forgotten.

But then there is another half of Only God Forgives that plays out like a dream sequence from any number of David Lynch films, fully kitted out with karaoke sessions and gaudy night clubs. In one sequence an uninspired and rote Ryan Gosling (who's clearly been given so little room to manoeuvre that he can hardly do anything to interest) is tied to a chair by a prostitute (who, in yet another uninspired turn, is being groomed to leave the sex trade). As she sits on the bed across from Gosling pleasuring herself, Ryan begins to see flashes of a man in a hallway, a short blade rising up and crashing down and strangely lit red halls. These moments in Only God Forgives are fascinating and a pleasure to behold. A room full of still policemen watching a man with an angelic voice sing some bizarre Asian karaoke is an image I won't soon forget.

Of course this may sound like style over substance but who's to say there can't be substance in style. Many of these sequences are scored subtly with an intriguing if less immediately loveable style than Drive's iconic soundtrack. The antagonist is by far the most engaging character. Whilst he is just as quiet and stoic as Ryan Gosling he seems more in control with slightly more engaging story. In fact he possessed the only moments of mental stimulation as I tried to figure out how his character had come to be the way he was.  Kirstin Scott Thomas seems to be getting the most universal praise, in a film that can hardly be called universal. Her character offers stilted insight into Goslings character but she plays out like the comedic relief in a Shakespeare play. Popping up in an otherwise tragic story to let the audience breathe a little. It was these moments of familiarity however that bred much of my boredom. Much like the story, Thomas was another thing we've all seen before.

Is it rude of me to say that the feeling I get from this is film is that of a director who was a massive geek until about ten years ago. And since then just wants desperately to be cool. It's taken me a long long time to figure out what it is that's bothering me about this film but that might be it. A film who's only desire is to be cool, can't ever really be cool right? Drive was skilful. Beautiful and brutish. This is, just brutish. A ham fisted attempt to be cool when Refn really doesn't need to try this hard. It's hard to define but what Only God Forgives does is imitate artistic design, rather than create. This isn't a new thing but it is strange the art Refn is imitating, is his own.