The performance is exceptionally and deliberately messy in contrast to the coherent world; what a great match!
Gray is a beautiful filmmaker. You know that idea of sipping your warm coffee on a rainy Saturday evening and reading a book, that is romanticized in every frame of the film. And if you thought Quentin Tarantino novelizes his films, you have a whole different animal to confront in this incredible journey. Just like a book, this film has a prologue, an epilogue, a first act, a second and a third act. And what keeps a book vocal and engaging are, of course, the dialogues and these narrative decisions of letting these characters take control of the room is what keeps us invested.
And this is where the screenwriter and director James Gray scores majestically that delights him and us with little nuanced wins. And in a journey as long as such and character complex as them, you fall in love everytime you are gifted with it. And who’d have thought that what usually is the obligatory part of the storytelling will be crafted as the peak of that act. Which brings me to the next event, something that is already in front of your eyes, but you never capture it.
The genre that Gray claims so adorably- yes, adorably- is incomprehensible if even thought of. These are the films that should be commercially successful, you feel that grandeur-ness that is touched by art in every imagery, you’d want such projects to helm charges and not a bunch of Halloween costumes wearers. Not to say that they are not worthy, it is just that you shouldn’t be leaving the screen reminiscing that this won’t ever make it to the top. The Lost City Of Z is hopefully justified by me in these words, as I too tried to write it like a book, not some rendezvous point in a circle but an end of a line.