Review of the film Hanna

            In the forest, a hunter pursues her prey. She stalks and tracks movements using the bare trees and brush to hide her presence expertly. The male reindeer does not sense her until it is too late. An arrow slams into his chest and he is off, sprinting through the snowdrifts, but death is certain. The hunter follows, her stride assured and quick. The animal breaks out of the trees onto an ice field and eventually collapses. Drawing near, the hunter pulls her pistol and takes aim. We are somewhere near the Artic Circle where ice and snow prevail and silence is only broken by the shot entering the heart of the downed, wounded beast. “I just missed your heart.”

The problem with Hanna is not the journey the new film by Director Joe Wright (Atonement) takes its audience on, it is the fogginess of its destination. The action moves at a frenetic pace and when there is a lull in the action, which isn’t often, the story pops with beautiful scenery, people and dialogue. It leaves us gasping for more, except, there linger questions—why the rush and where are we being taken?

            These questions come, but the velocity at which the conflicts of the film are happening leave little time for ruminations. The frenzied camerawork of the cinematographer and thumping score by The Chemical Brothers make it hard to concentrate on anything other than the action occurring right before our eyes.

Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) is 16 and has lived in the forest close to the Artic Circle for as long as memory serves her. She has been raised solely by her father (Eric Bana) with survival skills unusual to most—Hanna is an expert in martial arts and shooting, multilingual, and has a memory of general knowledge that would make an encyclopedia blush. Her father used to be an agent for the CIA but deserted his position long ago. He and Hanna are major persons of interest to many international organizations and especially to agent Marissa Weigler (Cate Blanchett) who has a bloody past with Hanna’s father and Hanna herself. There is a button that her father unearths connected to a tracking beacon that will allow Marissa to locate their position instantly. Hanna stares at the device for a long time, but we know she will eventually press the button—she is ready, dying, to see what will happen. So begins Hanna’s journey out into the world beyond the forest.

There are elements of fairytales here, Grimm’s to be precise—dark and bloody but also whimsical and beautiful. Hanna is a heroine in peril, not helpless pointedly, who must face many trials and obstacles both within and external. She is a young woman without a true sense of self, but through these tests outside of the forest she begins to realize what she is. The boundaries of her being are pushed and prodded, bringing with this knowledge both heartbreaking and events brutally final. However, we are left wondering about Hanna and her cast of characters long after the credits roll—for what purpose did the film go to so much trouble? What really did Hanna realize beyond the simple facts of her own origins and propensity for violence? Why does Hanna create such a character and the very beginnings of her true life only to snuff it out with a black screen?

Review of the film A Serious Man

I have dreamt of approaching tornadoes quite often throughout my life. Suddenly, the sky is darkening, and the funnel begins to descend, swirling and snaking towards the ground. The color of this cloud changes nearly every time, and I often wonder if these altering hues have anything to do with my conscious life as much as I am sure that the tornado’s appearance does. At its nearing, there is fear and an overwhelming sense of inevitability. This force of nature declares that shit is going down.

In A Serious Man, Larry Gopnik’s troubles look something like a fast drawing near force of nature. The funnel is dropping towards earth and taking aim. It starts off kind. He is a professor at a small college in suburban Minnesota during the 60s. He has a wife and two children, a nice one-level home, and he is up for tenure at work. But the Coen brothers, being themselves in the fullest, have other plans for Larry, plans that only they can understand. The film leads with a darkly comic preface in Yiddish set in a time long before Larry Gopnik; it leaves us scratching our heads, but wonderment is the space that the Coens want us in.

The main story and the dirt begin when Larry’s wife says she is leaving him for his best friend. Then a student attempts to bribe and blackmail him simultaneously. His lecherous brother is living on the couch in his home, getting into trouble at seedy bars and casinos. A bully continuously chases his young son home from school. The tenure committee at school is receiving defamatory unsigned letters about him. His daughter is stealing money from his wallet. The doctor’s office is desperately trying to get a hold of him. It seems that God suddenly doesn’t like Larry. But why, when he has always tried to be a good, serious man? The Coens may know, however, they aren’t letting us in on it too easily. This film could have a message, but it’s intentionally unclear.

A Serious Man shares that with the last film they made, No Country For Old Men for which the brothers won the Oscar for Best Picture. This film is quieter, though, less of a crowd pleaser, at least in terms of violence and action, and it leaves more loose ends than it ties. Larry’s best friend Sy Ableman, the man his wife is leaving him for, attempts to counsel with sincere words of sympathy and understanding. There is a sexy neighbor who has taken to sunbathing naked in just the right place for Larry to spy on her. His son is studying for his Bar Mitzvah. There are good things in Larry’s life, but how does he see through all the bad to the good? How do any of us do this? Are we all like Job in the Bible, put through many arduous trails by God on the basis that it forces us to still believe?

Larry goes to several different rabbis to see if he can glean some answers from those who are said to know much more than him. Each gives him more convoluted responses than the last. The Coens show that they can laugh at the mystery they have developed in a way both thoughtful and with appreciation for that which is beyond understanding. I value this in a film, bolstered by wonderful performances, excellent production and exceptional writing. Even the very ending of the film leaves us in a state of awed puzzlement that is both goading and satisfying.