Miroslav Slaboshpitsky's The Tribe, about a young man at a boarding school for the deaf who becomes involved in a clandestine crime ring, has been going around the festival circuit for a while, and is coming out in limited release on Wednesday, the 17th. It's gotten a lot of buzz since its premiere at Cannes last year, and I had the chance to see it back in March at the New Directors/New Films.
The premise alone deserves praise; while it has a simple 'climbing the ranks of a criminal organization' story, all the characters speak exculsively in Ukranian sign language, which is left unsubtitled. That combined with the long, often static takes gives it the feel of a modern silent film. Unfortunately, it turns out that wasn't enough to engross me, and it's taken me a while to figure out why. At first I thought it was the lack of information that led my mind to wander; how could I get attached to a character in such a simple and well worn story when I didn't even know his name and he looked like 90% of the other students/gang members? But the real problem is in Slaboshpitsky's formal choices, which end up undermining the attempt to evoke silent film.
All of the cast are non-actors, and it does show; the attempt at naturalism just ends up being unremarkable, which was what made it hard for me to differentiate most of the characters. Without dialogue, or even a confirmed name for out main character (the credits reveal his name is Sergey, but there's no way to know that from the film alone), the actor has to make non-verbal choices that give the character life onscreen. Silent film acting focuses on a different set of skills since the audience can't hear (or in this case, understand) not just what the character says, but how he says it, and these non-actors aren't trained for that. The choice to shoot entirely in wide shots makes this worse; the close up provides the most powerful emotional connection between the actor and the audience, and The Tribe is determined to leave us detached from its characters. So without dialogue, compelling performances, or closeups, most of the film falls flat.
I also feel I should mention that The Tribe occasionally throws in a shocking scene seemingly just for the visceral reaction; there's a gruesome accidental death whose only impact is to put Sergey in a new position that will move the plot forward and a medical procudure one step above back-alley that lingers for way too long. The actual violence is brutal but not gratitious (with the exception of one late scene), and actually fits the feel of the film without forcing a reaction from the viewer, so it's frustrating to have to sit through some scene made specifically to make you uncomfortable.
In short, The Tribe's form ends up more interesting than its content, and that form actually ends up hindering the film as a whole.
[If you want to read my first reaction when I saw it back in March, which was shorter, blunter, and has some very mild spoilers, you can read my letterboxd review here.]
No comments:
Post a Comment