It’s a rare occasion in which I can honestly say I’ve seen something that’s as profoundly poetic as it is universally beautiful. It’s even rarer to experience this feeling in film, where most things are categorised based on their box-office success. However, every once in a while I’m surprised and shocked at how simply gorgeous a film is — whether it be from the deft hand of the scribe or the keen and delicate eye of the photographer.
Lovely Bones has this sort of feel to it — unapologetically poetic while still maintaining a relatively mainstream air. Taking a page out of Dean Young’s handbook and creating imagery that’s in the same breath perplexing and fastidious, Lovely Bones explores the scope of death in a way that I’ve never actually seen in recent film. It was a deeper understanding of the afterlife and the interconnected pieces of life that keep the dead clinging ingloriously to the world they’ve just left.
Horror, as defined in the dictionary, is something that inspires dislike or intense aversion. However, my favourite definition deals with the most viral part of human nature: fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of shadows that move in the corner of your eye. But the fear that captures us all, that unites freaks and fanatics alike, is the fear of being insignificant.
Christians and atheists, pirates and paedophiles, they all fear being completely invisible. No matter who you are, there is an inexplicable creep that slithers through the skin and the psyche at the very thought of being relegated to the significance of a thing. We are all intrinsically tattooed with the primeval fear that as a human we are nothing more than toys, stray puppies without leashes, starving without mothers. Le Planète Sauvage explores and exposes the human psyche and fear of being a wild thing that must be controlled by an electronic collar.
If you dig this sample, click on over to The Deadilicious Site where I had it published originally. Pretty rad site for any and everything cutting edge (well, in my humble opinion, anyway).