An image from the film this blog is named after.

An image from the film this blog is named after.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Soviet Bloc(Busters): The Loneliest Planet

A series looking at the films of Eastern Europe. 

Directed by Julia Loktev
Starring Hani Furstenberg (Nica), Gael García Bernal (Alex), and Bidzina Gujabidze (Dato)
Written by Julia Loktev adapting the short story “Expensive Trips Nowhere” by Tom Bissel
Cinematography by Inti Briones
Edited by Julia Loktev and Michael Taylor
Released in 2012

Much like the film itself, the title The Loneliest Planet is hard to pin down. It could reflect the immediate communication gap that exists between the two main characters (foreign thrill-seekers Nicah and Alex) and the native Georgians they encounter (mainly their guide Dato), or the gap that develops between the central pair as the film progresses. It may be a signifier of the indifferent, alienating, and perilous environments the characters trek through. Or it might be a simple joke on the American youth-focused travel guide company Lonely Planet.

The plot of Julia Loktev’s film can be summarized in one short sentence. Two soon-to-be-married travelers hike through the Georgian mountains with a guide and an incident occurs that tests their relationship. The film has very little dialogue, with most of what is there focused on banalities, jokey conversations between the three leads, and a few details about their backstories. Most horror or thriller movies create tension by putting sympathetic characters in rough situations and then getting us to root for their survival. Not so with The Loneliest Planet. The film doesn’t fit into either of those categories, but is bristling with plenty of tension nonetheless. Loktev, cinematographer Inti Briones, and editor Michael Taylor craft the film so that scenes drift for long amounts of time and then abruptly cut, shift between static compositions and stalker-ish handheld tracking shots, and jump between intimate close-ups and humongous vistas. The tension comes not from wondering what will happen next to the characters (although there is some of that on the first viewing), but more from worrying over how long the current scene will go on, when the next cut will be, and what type of image will come next. The Loneliest Planet manages to manipulate so well purely through its form, that if Loktev ever did make a straight horror film, I would worry that everyone who saw it would be reduced to a shivering puddle. Through these techniques the film sustains a constantly disruptive tone. It even begins violently, with a shot of Nica naked and jumping up and down trying to stay warm. The huge variance in style between shots requires constant recalibration on the part of the viewer, like having to rapidly adjust your eyes when walking from dark to light (the film literally causes this to happen at one point when the camera follows Nica too quickly out into a sun-drenched valley).

The main complaint levied against the film is that after the incident the characters don’t communicate properly. This complaint is silly for two reasons. One, I’m sure everyone has participated in conversations about what you would do in X extreme situation. And, while we all like to think we would act bravely in such scenarios, there is absolutely no way for us to be 100% certain about how we would instinctively behave. Two, the shifting mood of Nica and Alex is communicated, just not through dialogue. Again, Loktev and her collaborators show their mastery over film form by expressing the couple’s emotional confusion visually. They are helped by the subtle changes in body and facial language that Furstenberg and Bernal employ. Before the incident, Nica and Alex are usually shown together, with multiple focusing on their physical intimacy with each other. After the incident, they appear in the same frame less frequently, and when they do, there are huge amounts of space between them.

A quick example: In the first half of the film, there is a shot of Nica and Alex walking through a rocky valley as Alex runs Nica through some Spanish practice. Dato can be seen in the background of the shot. 






During the second half of the film, the same shot is repeated, but with Nica and Dato conversing in the background and Alex relegated to the foreground trying in vain to eavesdrop on them.






I’m only half kidding when I say The Loneliest Planet would make for an interesting date movie. Nica’s change in demeanor, her response to the bifurcating event, and her withdrawal from Alex and tentative steps toward Dato bring up all kinds of uncomfortable questions. Later on, Alex tries to “prove” his masculinity and make up for his response during the gun incident by rushing to Nica’s rescue when she falls in a river. That scene becomes cringe-inducing when Nica refuses to go to Alex and paws silently at Dato to continue holding her. Near the end of the film, Alex comes close to sexually assaulting Nica after listening to her awkwardly kissing Dato in a horrifying “I’m marking my territory” way.

Was it okay for Alex to hide behind Nica? Was his reaction immediate or considered? Does that distinction matter? Does Alex’s later repositioning fix his initial response? Would the tone of the scene be different if instead Nica immediately jumped behind Alex? Will this irreparably damage their relationship? Was their relationship that strong to begin with? Does Dato recognize that he is pushing Nica towards him or is he oblivious? I imagine if we could hear the characters thoughts some version of these questions would be running through their heads. Thankfully, The Loneliest Planet offers few concrete answers, and leaves both the characters, and the viewer, isolated by doubt, confusion, and uncertainty.

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