Louder Than Bombs, 2015.
Directed by Joachim Trier
Starring Jesse Eisenberg, Gabriel Byrne, Isabelle Huppert, David Strathairn, Amy Ryan and Devin Druid.
SYNOPSIS:
The fractious family of a father and his two sons confront their different feelings and memories of their deceased wife and mother, a famed war photographer.
Dealing with the loss of a close family member is complicated, to say the least. This is in part because everyone has a different relationship with the deceased and thus handles their passing differently. Because of this, communication is key during periods of grief so that families can understand one another’s needs.
A failure to communicate defines many of the relationships seen in Louder Than Bombs, Danish director Joachim Trier’s English-language debut. The opening scene sees new father Jonah (Jesse Eisenberg) reconnecting with an old flame at a hospital while his wife and newborn await his return, none too anxious to take on the mantle of paternity. Jonah soon leaves his new family to visit his father Gene (Gabriel Byrne) and teenage brother Conrad (Louie‘s Devin Druid), who are alternately yelling at or giving one another the silent treatment.
We discover that the reason for the elder brother’s return, and the familial discord in general, is that their mother Isabelle (Isabelle Huppert, appearing in strident flashbacks and tender dreams), a world-class war photographer, died in a car crash three years before. Jonah needs to go through the results of her final tour for a retrospective piece her former colleague is writing for the New York Times, the existence of which forces the three men to contend with the truth, hidden from Conrad until now, that Isabelle committed suicide.
Once united, the film follows its three leads for the most part separately, making Louder Than Bombs‘ structure somewhat episodic and flashback-oriented. Gene struggles to connect with Conrad and disclose the reality of Isabelle’s passing while continuing an affair with his son’s English teacher; Jonah, separated from his wife and newborn by a six-hour drive, hides at his parents’ house and makes excuses about making it back later in the week; Conrad fixates on violent videogames, Holden Caulfield-esque confessions and a cheerleader who’s out of his league.
Each strand is given equal weight by the cinematography and editing, which routinely separate characters into their own sections of the frame and allow ample time for close ups capturing the restrained angst on their faces. A muted colour palette and low-key dialogue keeps the story rooted for the most part in reality, though hallucinatory appearances by Huppert and a stream-of-consciousness with breathless editing give impressions of the characters’ interior lives tremendously well. In less capable hands this could come off as schmaltzy and insincere, but Louder Than Bombs ground its material in as much authentic (albeit often concealed) emotion as possible. If anything, the narrative may be too fractured to properly coalesce back together by the end, but Trier and his collaborators form enough short film-worthy sequences that it’s not too big a problem.
It also helps that he’s working with a uniformly great cast, from a dialed-down Eisenberg and the quietly tortured Byrne to Huppert’s brief, impactful appearances and Druid’s numb yet soulful performance. Louder Than Bombs trades in such contradictions in ways that reflect real life and familial struggles for understanding. There are no easy answers to the questions asked by the characters – indeed, there are tough truths faced by all – but it’s the interrogations that reveal that while losing one person might be terrible, it’s not nearly so bad as throwing everyone else away.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Mark Allen
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