Francis Ford Coppola's latest film is a luxurious gothic romp, with vampires, mad preachers, dead children, damned souls, doomed virgins, Edgar Allen Poe, and a lot of
mist on the lake, which
thing
is a problem for the blocked, haunted, alcoholic writer at its heart (you just have to see it) but wonderfully comedic for us. Beautifully shot, with isolated spots of impossibly rich color in cool, moonlit ghost-scapes, bright small-town vignettes that reminded me of David Lynch
, and odd 3-D scenes. It's an extravagant spectacle, but Poe's refrain about the death of beauty is still tenderly explored, and there are layers of mystery and enigma as well. It's not entirely beside the point to remember that Coppola, like the character at the center of this story, lost his own child in 1986.
No comments:
Post a Comment