Overstretched and dull, Carlos Reygadas’ Silent Light is a thoroughly unrewarding portrait of a Mennonite father of seven grappling with infidelity and his place in life. Set in rural Mexico, Johan (Cornelio Wall) lives with his wife Esther (Miriam Toews) and their large family, doing what Mennonites do—rising before dawn, saying grace, and tending the fields. But unbenownst to his wife, Johan is having an affair with Marianne (an impressive Maria Pankratz in her film debut), one of his suppliers, and grapples daily with what to do…and what God would have him do. Torn between the vividness of this fresh figure and his familial duties, he looks to his father (a preacher), his co-worker, and the almighty for help in finding his way. It’s Bergman-esque in its topic, story, and themes, but certainly not in its execution, which is full of potholes, and as enjoyable as watching paint dry.

Reygadas is clearly gifted with the camera—there are many beautiful stand-alone shots, such as the opening sunrise that lets us start our day with the family, and a tender hand-holding moment between Johan and Marianne that recalls Before Sunrise and In the Mood for Love. But as talented as Reygadas may be, he’s equally caught up in his own artsy-fartsyness, and his clear admiration for directors such as Kiarostami & Sokurov leads to error upon error. Time and again, shots linger for about 20-30 seconds too long (the first onscreen encounter-and-kiss between Johan and Marianne is perhaps the most egregious example, though far from the sole offender) without adding anything at all thematically. This is particularly problematic because Reygadas elects to shoot much of Silent Light from a distance and forego a score of any kind, leading to a very detached emotional experience. Coupled with the elongated takes, the film quickly becomes banal and uninteresting, with none of the spice and life of Bergman’s similar spiritual quests of self-discovery. The cinematography is wonderful in and of itself, but that’s not enough to sustain a picture.

Reygadas’s pretension shows through in other ways as well—flies constantly land on people’s faces without being swatted away, for no apparent reason other than it seems “poetic.” His handling of the children—especially a lovely moment of bathing in the lake—is drastically superior to that of the adults, and unfortunately, the kids make up a fraction of substantive screentime. By the time the climactic sequence rolls around, disengagement has set in with full force, not to mention a direct conflict between the religious symbolism of the moment and the spoken reason given. The ending further muddies the water, tossing a supernatural aspect into the mix that feels completely out of place (Persona, on the other hand, handles this blend effortlessly). Ultimately, Silent Light drags on about 45 minutes too long, and feels like little more than cobbled-together moments from superior filmmakers, though it does hint at a director capable of helming a great work if he can rein himself in and substantially tighten things up.

RATING: 28/100

Technically proficient but intellectually & emotionally wanting, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button ranks among 2008′s biggest disappointments on multiple levels. The title and opening sequence (the construction of a grand clock that tick-tocks backwards) hints at a deep, mysterious backdrop to the title character’s unusual condition, but despite running a bloated 166 minutes, Benjamin Button mostly plays like a standard Hollywood drama where the protagonist happens to age in reverse. What could have been a fascinating picture is reduced to occasional glimpses of greatness until a brisk and engrossing final 20 minutes that hint at what could have been.

On paper, director David Fincher seems a perfect fit for the material—he’s directed multiple pictures with unique storylines (Fight Club, Seven, Zodiac), and injected each with plenty of creativity and vigor (Fight Club is a masterpiece of the grotesque, and Zodiac manages to be extraordinarily engrossing at nearly three hours despite very little actually happening). With Benjamin Button, however, he directs with less ambition, and much more sloppiness than usual. There’s simply no reason for the film to be so long, and moment after moment is dragged out without purpose or direction. The audience is expected to buy into the inexplicable non-reaction by, well, everyone about Benjamin’s odd state, but the storytelling is so banal that his condition seems out of whack with much of what’s happening around him. Equally perplexing is Fincher’s decision to set the modern day moments during Hurricane Katrina’s arrival in Louisiana (the movie is set in New Orleans), which is pointless at best, and gratuitous & distracting at worst.

In the end, what saves Benjamin Button from ineptitude is the aforementioned conclusion and outstanding production values, from strong cinematography to the best makeup of 2008. Cate Blanchett also turns in a strong, multi-layered performance, but the same can’t be said of Brad Pitt, whose Oscar nomination is inexplicable. This year alone, he was better in Burn After Reading, and his work here is among his most uninspiring; one note and sluggish, terms that unfortunately also apply to the movie as a whole. Ultimately, I’d expect The Curious Case of Benjamin Button to go down in Fincher’s ouevre as more Panic Room than Fight Club—great concept, lazy execution. Hopefully, the Oscars avoid giving Fincher his career achievement award this year…surely, they can wait, as Fincher can do (and has done) much, much better than this.

RATING: 43/100

One of my first forays into the Czech New Wave leaves me with cautious optimism (my only previous experience was Vera Chytilová’s Daisies, which I disliked) that the genre may yet be worth exploring. Jirí Menzel’s Closely Watched Trains is an engaging, dry satire on the the pitfalls of laziness while doubling as a character study.  It follows Milos Hrma (an outstanding Václav Neckár), a bumbling loon from a family of wacky work-dodgers—his great grandfather was beaten to death for bragging that he lived off his pension, and his grandfather a hypnotist who was decapitated trying to stop an armored tank with mind waves.  His father was the best of the litter, living off his pension following 20 years as a railroad dispatcher.  Figuring that easy money and little responsibility is the way to go, Milos decides to follow in his papa’s socialistic footsteps, and signs on to work at the tiny Kostomlaty station where his father is now legend.

From the start, it’s evident that Milos, while awkward and a bit of a dunce, isn’t as immune to public perception as his bloodlines might indicate.  A virgin, he suffers from premature ejaculation—which thoroughly displeases his girlfriend, the voluptuous conductor Masa (Jitka Scoffin)—and asks everyone for advice on what to do about it, from his supervisor Hubicka (Josef Somr) to the station manager’s wife.  He refers to having an erection as “being a man now.” Indeed, his sexual inadequacy so humiliates him that he attempts to take his life in shame.  It’s interesting to observe Milos’ complete oblivion to the war taking place around him as he focuses on holding down a paycheck and sowing his royal oats (it should be noted that although the town is officially under Nazi control, things aren’t going well for Hitler’s crew at the time so they don’t play a large role in local politics).  Milos is comparable to the village idiot who you pity rather than really get angry at.  As such, there’s a dark comedic vibe present throughout the film that keeps the war backdrop in the distance, and our attention squarely on Milos.

Shot in crisp black & white, Closely Watched Trains boasts excellent cinematography, strong supporting performances, and fluid editing, though the slow pacing may be off-putting for some. The ending initially feels off-kilter from the rest of the picture—the final 10 minutes are much darker than the preceding 83—but the black undertone was always lurking, like Milos, waiting to burst and show its worth. If it can’t be sexual prowess, why not give patriotism a twirl? The irony is quite lovely. There aren’t many overwhelming moments in Closely Watched Trains, but it’s a consistently engaging movie with many more pluses than minuses.

RATING: 65/100