Love & Mercy Review
Love & Mercy, Bill Pohland's marvellous biopic of The Beach Boys' Brian Wilson, opens in much the same way as PT Anderson's There Will Be Blood. A strange comparison, I'll grant you, but also perfectly apt. Before begin with a single note, building in volume until the sheer aural assault is hard to take. Both set out to offset the audience with disconcerting music cues, before easing them with more gentle, visceral images. It's the perfect encapsulation of the film: the dark turns of Wilson's turbulent rise, fall and eventual resurgence, matched with the giddy highs of his boundless creativity and touching lessons in love (and, indeed, mercy). From that majestic opening onwards, Love & Mercy proves to be something truly special, and one of the year's best films...
In order to capture the full extent of Wilson's tumultuous life, Pohland and his writers Michael Alan Lerner and Oren Moverman weave between two distinct periods of Wilson's life: the first, featuring an electrifying performance from Paul Dano, depicts his dizzying artistic heights and self-inflicted decline during the late 60s, is the more immediately gripping. However, the 80s segment, in which John Cusack tackles the role of a psychologically damaged man desperate to escape the clutches of his domineering therapist Eugene Landy (the ever-excellent Paul Giamatti), who finds solace in saleswoman Melinda Ledbetter, played beautifully by the equally beautiful Elizabeth Banks is the emotional core of the movie. Pohland juxtaposes these disparate strands in a deeply troubled life to provide not only a heartbreaking tale of the struggle for perfection but a genuinely touching love story full of hope, optimism and redemption. The uneasy relationship between light and dark is what gives the film its raw power; what good is joy without the sadness that came before?
Unsurprisingly, Dano practically runs away with the whole movie, boasting an Oscar-worthy performance which never lets the audience settle. One moment he's celebrating a rush of inspiration in his compostions, the next he's experiencing an LSD-provoked mental breakdown. The most impressive scenes come from the wonderfully naturalistic recording sessions, where Wilson's undying search for brilliance generate some of the greatest songs of all time, along with furious reactions from his exasperated bandmates. Crucially, Pohland and Dano make the clear distinction between is turbulent mental state and his musical mastery; a distinction many biopics neglect to acknowledge. Cusack is equally fantastic in the 80s story, his blossoming romance with Banks forming the backbone on which the more eventful aspects of his life are framed. Brian in the second time period still bares the scars inflicted by his younger, more reckless self. Cusack and Banks work superbly together, sharing an easy chemistry which makes their relationship instantly compelling.
Pohland, having not directed for 25 years, makes a glorious comeback in an often restrained film that ensures its jaw-dropping moments always feel earned and natural. His skill in capturing human emotion is never clearer than in the formative episodes of Brian and Melinda's touching romance. Melinda gives Brian an escape and a new lease of life, whereas she receives more thrills and surprises than she could possibly hope for. This perfect marriage between director and performance makes every scene effortlessly watchable. The cinematography, courtesy of Wes Anderson favourite Robert Yeoman captures both the vibrancy and agony that defines much of Wilson's life, employing both 16 and 35mm film to lend the movie a tactile urgency that would be lost with the use of digital photography. The purposefully oppressive score by Atticus Ross again combines whimsy and pain, and works largely due to Pohland knowing precisely when to employ it, Brian's panic attacks being a prime example of the score's unsentimental purity.
If the side characters are underdeveloped (greater insight into the other Beach Boys would have provided far clearer context for Brian's fall from grace) and the film's free-flowing structure result in occasional tonal whiplash, the magnificence of Love & Mercy is that its minor flaws are rendered all but negligible by the film's perfection elsewhere. Simultaneously life-affirming and heart-breaking, Love & Mercy is a film for the ages, one that will be remembered for years to come as career highlights for its absurdly talented cast and a great calling card for its highly promising director. Note to Oscars: if Paul Dano isn't at least nominated for Best Actor, may God have mercy on your soul...
Five-Word Verdict: I'm picking up good vibrations *tips hat*
Score: 4.5/5
In order to capture the full extent of Wilson's tumultuous life, Pohland and his writers Michael Alan Lerner and Oren Moverman weave between two distinct periods of Wilson's life: the first, featuring an electrifying performance from Paul Dano, depicts his dizzying artistic heights and self-inflicted decline during the late 60s, is the more immediately gripping. However, the 80s segment, in which John Cusack tackles the role of a psychologically damaged man desperate to escape the clutches of his domineering therapist Eugene Landy (the ever-excellent Paul Giamatti), who finds solace in saleswoman Melinda Ledbetter, played beautifully by the equally beautiful Elizabeth Banks is the emotional core of the movie. Pohland juxtaposes these disparate strands in a deeply troubled life to provide not only a heartbreaking tale of the struggle for perfection but a genuinely touching love story full of hope, optimism and redemption. The uneasy relationship between light and dark is what gives the film its raw power; what good is joy without the sadness that came before?
Unsurprisingly, Dano practically runs away with the whole movie, boasting an Oscar-worthy performance which never lets the audience settle. One moment he's celebrating a rush of inspiration in his compostions, the next he's experiencing an LSD-provoked mental breakdown. The most impressive scenes come from the wonderfully naturalistic recording sessions, where Wilson's undying search for brilliance generate some of the greatest songs of all time, along with furious reactions from his exasperated bandmates. Crucially, Pohland and Dano make the clear distinction between is turbulent mental state and his musical mastery; a distinction many biopics neglect to acknowledge. Cusack is equally fantastic in the 80s story, his blossoming romance with Banks forming the backbone on which the more eventful aspects of his life are framed. Brian in the second time period still bares the scars inflicted by his younger, more reckless self. Cusack and Banks work superbly together, sharing an easy chemistry which makes their relationship instantly compelling.
Pohland, having not directed for 25 years, makes a glorious comeback in an often restrained film that ensures its jaw-dropping moments always feel earned and natural. His skill in capturing human emotion is never clearer than in the formative episodes of Brian and Melinda's touching romance. Melinda gives Brian an escape and a new lease of life, whereas she receives more thrills and surprises than she could possibly hope for. This perfect marriage between director and performance makes every scene effortlessly watchable. The cinematography, courtesy of Wes Anderson favourite Robert Yeoman captures both the vibrancy and agony that defines much of Wilson's life, employing both 16 and 35mm film to lend the movie a tactile urgency that would be lost with the use of digital photography. The purposefully oppressive score by Atticus Ross again combines whimsy and pain, and works largely due to Pohland knowing precisely when to employ it, Brian's panic attacks being a prime example of the score's unsentimental purity.
If the side characters are underdeveloped (greater insight into the other Beach Boys would have provided far clearer context for Brian's fall from grace) and the film's free-flowing structure result in occasional tonal whiplash, the magnificence of Love & Mercy is that its minor flaws are rendered all but negligible by the film's perfection elsewhere. Simultaneously life-affirming and heart-breaking, Love & Mercy is a film for the ages, one that will be remembered for years to come as career highlights for its absurdly talented cast and a great calling card for its highly promising director. Note to Oscars: if Paul Dano isn't at least nominated for Best Actor, may God have mercy on your soul...
Five-Word Verdict: I'm picking up good vibrations *tips hat*
Score: 4.5/5
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