Combining arthouse ambition with studio
production value, Cloud Atlas is an existentialist Rubik's
cube with commercial sensibilities; a beguiling tale of reborn souls
meeting over again across time and space, spun into a sprawling
tapestry about what connects us as human beings... or, you know,
something like that.
In 1849 a young aristocrat returns home
from an expedition to the slave colonies in the Pacific rim. In 1936
a young music writer keeps correspondence with his gay lover as he
helps an aging composer put his melodies to sheet. In 1973 an
investigative journalist uncovers a nefarious conspiracy between big
oil and nuclear power. In 2012 a book editor seeks refuge from Irish
thugs only to be committed to a rest home. In 2044 a genetically
engineered servant in the dystopic Neo Seoul becomes the key face of
an underground revolution. In the distant post-apocalyptic future,
warring tribes fight for survival as a more technologically advanced
visitor comes with a mysterious mission.
What do these separate sagas have to do
with each other? Its fragmented ideas may not be easy to penetrate in
a single viewing, but for a 3-hour movie, it's surprisingly easy to
sit through. A collection of different genres – from high seas
adventure to sci-fi to thriller to dark comedy – ensures that
there's something for everybody. The individual stories themselves
are entertaining enough (some more so than others) to maintain
engagement, even though the supposed connectivity between the
multitude of characters and story trends is only transparent in fits
and starts.
The Wachowski siblings and Tom Tykwer
make a dynamic team to bring David Mitchell's “unfilmable” novel
to the screen. Indeed, the sheer logistical challenge of weaving
together the book's six disjointed narratives while attempting to
elucidate their thematic unions is a task they should be applauded
just for attempting. Even if they cannot tie all six into a whole
epiphany, similarities between pairs of story arcs are drawn clearly
at various points throughout their progression. One of the trio's
innovations that makes this possible – indeed, the whole conceit of
the enterprise – is the casting of the same actors in multiple
parts. It's actually quite a hoot spotting the cast members in their
various guises throughout the ages. Credit makeup designers Daniel
Parker and Jeremy Woodhead for the quantity and quality of their
extensive work. True, not everything they come up with is entirely
convincing (there's only so Asian you can make a white guy look), but
conversely, some of their creations render the actor beneath so
unrecognizable that you won't realize it was them until the end
credits' role call.
The hit-and-miss nature of the
subplots' connectedness (or lack thereof) notwithstanding, there's a
certain undefinable humanity that underlies Cloud Atlas that
makes it a fascinating project, one that certainly merits multiple
looks. The filmmakers and actors are able to transcend superficial
details such as race, ethnicity, gender, and sexuality to present us
with an array of characters who we come to identify by their souls
rather than their bodies. Obviously, a lot of what you take away from
the movie will have to do with what you bring to it, but there's more
than enough to mull over in here. If it weren't for the film's box
office woes it'd be rightly classified as a philosophical
blockbuster, but I'm sure it'll eventually find its audience in time.
**1/2 out of ****
