Exodus: Gods and Kings trailers


4 Responses to “Exodus: Gods and Kings trailers”

  1. This film appears to lack any of the great fun associated with The Ten Commandments — it just seems like a generic Hollywood Big Film. Not even Christian Bale can make this interesting (although I’ll probably end up going to the cinema for it!)…


  2. ‘I go to movies to exercise my emotional muscles’, said Anthony Minghella. I do that too. But it’s nice, once in a while, to come across a film ( quoting Peter Travers of Rolling Stone) that the director wants you to think through rather than sit through. Nolan doesn’t leave your emotional muscles quite alone, at least not in this one, but he gives plenty to think about too, and that for me was the prime delight of ‘ Interstellar’.

    The strongest theme that the film touches upon is parenthood. It is played out over two parallel strands – there is Dr Brand and her daughter Amelia; and there is Cooper and his daughter Murph and son Tom. Ideas on parenthood that one can chew on : ‘ The moment we become parents, we become the ghosts of our children’s future.’ Potent stuff there. ‘We are there to be memories of our children.’ “A parent‘s job is to make his children feel safe. A parent doesn’t tell his child that the earth is ending.’ All these are from Cooper’s perspective. Later there is Murph’s perspective too. ‘No parent should watch his children die. I have my children. Go,’ urges a dying Murph to her 124 year old father who is still young thanks to the time wrap he has passed through. Anyone who is a parent knows these insights to be quite real and not just pop psychology. Only here it is so poignantly brought out against a backdrop of death, abandonment and love.

    The other major theme playing out all through the film is the issue of survival. Dr Mann voices this very convincingly, when he admits to have transmitted false data with the hope of being rescued. “ Don’t judge me. You have not been tested like I have been, ’ he says to Cooper. Dr Brand talks of transcending the thought of individual survival and think of the survival of the specie. That was the thought that led to his lying about the Plan A. There was no possibility of rescuing the people on earth, so at least a few could go out and set up a colony on some other star. It was easy for a child to abandon the parent, but is it the same when a parent has to abandon his children?

    There are meditations on the nature of ‘ exploration’. How only the brave undertake it, because there was always the possibility of not finding what you were looking for, and not being able to return. Also as Cooper tells Amelia, “ To go out and reach somewhere, you have to leave something behind.’. Wasn’t that what Yudhisthir was told when he tried to enter heaven with his dog?

    In fact the melding of well-known mythical concepts and modern science and weaving those threads seamlessly through the narrative is the other big achievement of the film. Take the concept of 1 year in the Brahmalok being an eon on earth, or the concept of beings living in 5 dimensions, quite explicitly mentioned in occult literatures. The film tries to make some of these concepts as real as possible. I loved the demonstration of the wormhole with a folded sheet of paper and the two holes coinciding, explain how one can eliminate distance by the folding of the space-time continuum. Of course, as is his norm, Nolan makes it beautifully complicated by making the holes three dimensional – a resplendent sphere.

    The most criticised line in the film relates to the other big poster headline of the film – love transcends time and space. But then it is convincingly argued for by Amelia in the film. What utilitarian function does loving of dead person serve? And the assertion that Love will show the way may not be totally unscientific either – if one goes by the process of decision-making alluded to by Malcolm Gladwell in his ‘Blink’. When data is ambigious, passion can help you make up your mind. Amelia was right about Edmund’s planet and Cooper wrong about Dr Mann’s.

    To those who complain about the staged nature of the scenes and the dialogues, my answer would be : it is a concept film like, say, Ship of Theseus, so do not expect naturalistic staging or everyday speech.

    And if you talk of lack of cinematic style, my answer would be – You do not read the Mahabharata for its linguistic flourish, you read it for its epic storytelling and philosophical quests. We don’t generally expect these from films, but that cannot be Nolan’s fault.


  3. Cinema as we’ve almost always known it — “Edison, the Lumière brothers, Méliès, Porter, all the way through Griffith and on to Kubrick” — has “really almost gone.” So writes Martin Scorsese in his recent essay for the New York Review of Books, “The Persisting Vision: Reading the Language of Cinema.” He argues that traditional film forms have “been overwhelmed by moving images coming at us all the time and absolutely everywhere, even faster than the visions coming at the astronaut” in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. “We have no choice but to treat all these moving images coming at us as a language. We need to be able to understand what we’re seeing and find the tools to sort it all out.” Only natural that Scorsese, as one of the best-known, highest-profile auteurs alive, would reference Kubrick, his generational predecessor in the untiring furtherance of cinematic vision and craft.

    We just yesterday featured a post about Kubrick’s 1963 list of ten favorite films. Scorsese, for his part, has impressed many as one of the most enthusiastically cinephilic directors working in America today: his essays about and appearances on the DVDs of his favorite movies stand as evidence for the surprising breadth of his appreciation. Today, why not have a look at Scorsese’s list, which he put together for Sight and Sound magazine, and which begins with the Kubrick selection you might expect:

    2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) – Stanley Kubrick
    8½ (1963) – Federico Fellini
    Ashes and Diamonds (1958) – Andrzej Wajda
    Citizen Kane (1941) – Orson Welles
    The Leopard (1963) – Luchino Visconti
    Paisan (1946) – Roberto Rossellini
    The Red Shoes (1948) – Michael Powell/Emeric Pressburger
    The River (1951) – Jean Renoir
    Salvatore Giuliano (1962) – Francesco Rosi
    The Searchers (1956) – John Ford
    Ugetsu Monogatari (1953) – Mizoguchi Kenji
    Vertigo (1958) – Alfred Hitchcock

    In “The Persisting Vision,” he champions comprehensive film preservation, citing the case of Hitchcock’s Vertigo, the final entry on his list, now named the greatest film of all time by Sight and Sound‘s critics poll. “When the film came out some people liked it, some didn’t, and then it just went away.” When, after decades of obscurity, Vertigo came back into circulation, the color was completely wrong,” and “the elements — the original picture and sound negatives — needed serious attention.” A restoration of the “decaying and severely damaged” film eventually happened, and “more and more people saw Vertigo and came to appreciate its hypnotic beauty and very strange, obsessive focus.” I, personally, couldn’t imagine the world of cinema without it — nor without any of the other pictures Scorsese calls his favorites.


  4. Its so true the movie goer walks away with whatever they perceive . Threads are drawn to lead one on a romp..a journey..or just lead around by the nose. So I am happy this is a film that does exactly that.


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