Silence is probably the most aptly titled movie
to come along in a while. The latest from masterclass filmmaker
Martin Scorsese is an exercise in restraint. How much can you do with
so little? In this case, the movie's lack of sound and the absence of
the frenzied urgency that is Scorsese's signature is both an
aesthetic and thematic choice. We watch in silence, the film presents
itself in silence, and its main characters suffer in silence. Based
on the novel of the same name by Shuzaku Endo, this is a passion
project that Scorsese has been trying to get off the ground since the
late 80's, and while Marty has made a name for himself as a master of
the art of excess, here he shows how much he can really do when
really subdued.
Our story takes place in 17th century Japan a
few years after the Shimbara Rebellion, a failed uprising of
Christian Japanese peasants that lead to the religion becoming
outlawed. Two Portuguese Jesuit priests, Father Rodruiges (Andrew
Garfield) and Father Garrpe (Adam Driver) have received word that
their mentor (Liam Neeson) has renounced his faith during his last
mission and has sided with the Japanese government, so they travel
there to find him and find out what really happened to him. When they
arrive, they're taken in by a small group of Christian peasants who
are escaping persecution and worship God in secret, and in return
they give them mass and listen to their confessions. But the
inquisitor soon learns of the priests' whereabouts and announce a
price on their head, putting the villagers' lives in danger with
their mere presence.
While Martin Scorsese is known far and wide for making
super violent films about gangsters and life in New York, he likes to
dabble in period pieces every once in a while (see: The Age of
Innocence, Gangs of New York and
Hugo), and his Catholic upbringing tends to frequently seep into
his work as well (see: The Last Temptation of Christ). You'd
think that when they collide it would result in a giant blood bath,
especially since he chose feudal era Japan as the setting, but
surprisingly, this is actually one of the most bloodless movies
Scorsese has ever made. (That's not entirely true, there is one scene
where someone gets decapitated, but that's about it.) This is the
anti Wolf of Wall Street. Where The Wolf of Wall Street
was a never-ending cavalcade of debauchery, decadence, hedonism and
spectacle, Silence is
incredibly subdued and restricted. There's virtually no score, the
bouts of silence add gravitas to its brutality, and while the
characters endure horrific torture and suffering, the placid camera
work makes it understated yet still hard to look at. It's a lot like
Hacksaw Ridge, another
recent film where Andrew Garfield's religious faith is put to the
test in a bloody period of Japan's history, but whereas the Hacksaw
Ridge's is all building to one
big bloody blow-out, Silence's
protagonist is slowly raked through the coal over the course of its
three hour run time.
Scorsese is one of
those directors whose style is instantly recognizable, but this time
around the fingerprints of other filmmakers are a lot more visible.
Appropriate for the setting, the most notable influence on Silence
is Akira Kurosawa, specifically in the use of weather. Rain, fog,
wind, fire and mud are used so effectively that the landscape becomes
a character all its own. The camera work isn't nearly as kinetic as
it usually is, things are a lot more stationary, and coupled with the
stark cinematography gives the film a cold, isolated feel, even in
the middle of the sweltering Japanese summer. A sense of isolation
that drives the narrative home.
Eventually the focus
shifts away from Garfield and Driver as a duo to Garfield himself,
who eventually develops some rather sketchy motives for helping these
people. The search for his lost mentor devolves into a search for
guidance from a God who doesn't answer his prayers in a place where
He probably can't hear them. As the film progresses, it becomes a lot
more questionable about whether his devotion is a matter of faith or
pride. As our point-of-view character providing the bulk of the
narration, Rodrigues' inner monologue begins comparing his struggles
to that of Christ and silently passes judgement on Garrpe, his
mentor, the peasants. This self-absorption does play well into the
film's overall themes of martyrdom, doubt, strength and weakness,
faith in the face of persecution and the effects of imperial foreign
influence, but it doesn't make for a very relatable narrative. Part
of this is because of the overall isolated tone working against
itself, but part of it unfortunately falls on Andrew Garfield.
Garfield is a terrific actor who I believe has an Oscar-worthy
performance in him, but this subject matter is hard for even the
greatest of actors and he doesn't quite have the muscle to pull off
something so weighty.
Garfield isn't alone in
this department, as the performances are a bit of a mixed bag. That's
not to say there are any bad apples here, there isn't a single bad
actor in the entire cast, but there were some things that I found a
bit distracting. Garfield and Driver both speak with these weird and
clearly phony Portugese accents and it wouldn't be so bad if they at
least spoke more Portugese. Liam Neeson doesn't even bother to hide
his accent, but it's Liam Neeson, the man is
his accent. The Japanese actors give great performances across the
board. Special praise has to go to Yosuke Kobuzuka who plays
Kichijiro a cowardly Judas figure who spends the film in a cycle of
betraying Rodrigues and begging for his forgiveness, cult filmmaker
Shinya Tsukatomo (best known for directing Tetsuo, The Iron
Man) as one of the devout
villagers, and Issei Ogata, who gives a tremendous portrayal of a
frail but menacing inquisitor. They all do a great job, but it does
strike me as odd that they all speak in Engrish. Really good Engrish,
mind you, but Engrish nonetheless. This is all just a minor
inconsistency, but one that does become a bit hard to ignore after a
while.
Overall, Silence
is a definite slow burn that not everyone will get behind, but is
probably the most personal movie Scorsese has made in a long time.
It's not his most relatable or inviting film, but there is still a
lot to be admired about it. If Taxi Driver, Goodfellas
and Casino are your preferred flavor, then this one might be a bit hard to swallow. But
then again, Scorsese on his worst days are still better than most
directors at their apex.
7/10
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