Hereafter

In Hereafter, the next life should feel new but instead it, at times, feels more than a little familiar for anybody who’s seen Babel-style multi-stranded films (at least in concept, if not in style). Both feature separate stories featuring other languages across the world that come together in the end and both attempt to examine deep-seated human issues. With that said, Eastwood’s film has an even grimmer subject matter and a much more impressive effects budget.

The first of Hereafter’s three threads starts with French journalist Marie LeLay (Cecille De France) who dies during the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami (recreated extremely well with some impressive CGI). Whilst in America, George Lonegan (Matt Damon) attempts to cope with his abilities as a medium, and in England a young boy named Marcus (Frankie and George McLaren) suffers after losing his brother. The result should be a deep and insightful meditation on human fears of death. Unfortunately, it is precisely in depth that the film seems lacking. We never really get a full understanding of what Damon’s psychic sees, meaning that, to a degree, the film doesn’t really seem to know what to think. Obviously, it posits the existence of an afterlife but never defines it and ultimately comes to know answers to its questions that really aren’t anything new and during the film never truly fascinate. The screenwriter Peter Morgan’s attempts to use real events, such as the tsunami, to add a sense of importance. It’s only made worse by the script not knowing in which direction it’s heading, leading to a ridiculously contrived conclusion in which the separate threads intertwine in a way that feels clumsily strung together.

However, it is not a bad film. Firstly, the central performances are extremely good with Matt Damon on customary form, Cecille De France is very wonderful and both Frankie and George McLaren’s performances easily manage to hold our attention to the screen. Eastwood’s traditional unfussy direction throughout is a real joy to watch, adding a glorious sense of elegiac grace, which has become a trademark of the director’s work. We’re made to care and emote with the characters even if not the ideas; the problem is that after you leave the cinema it doesn’t stick with you.

At the end of the day, although disappointing as an Eastwood film, the director’s skill and the talent of his actors create enough emotional engagement to carry it. Despite its lack of sufficient depth at times, inability to link the stories together and end efficiently (or bring anything particularly new to the table), it remains watchable, if not very special.

Add Comment

You must log in to submit a comment.