Review of Gerry (2002) by Craig B — 21 Sep 2007

After Gus Van Sant needlessly repeated himself with Finding Forrester (straight after his most mainstream hit, Good Will Hunting), it was a brilliant and unexpected blow to the senses, on seeing Gerry, to have him go back to his primary, experimental love of film-making â?? of exploring what sound and image can do, even with an obtuse and almost vehement opposition to traditional narrative, when emptied of any kind of need to be tidily categorised or enforce any kind of easily read meaning. For him to go forward by taking one step back was great news to me. He was mapping out a different groove for himself in cinema. Gerry sneakily uses a crafty â??borrowâ?? here (Béla Tarr), and a sly â??stealâ?? there (Chantal Akerman etc), but Van Sant still manages to make the entire thing hold together purely as his own work in the process. Itâ??s something that artists do. The film felt both blisteringly confident and uncertain at the same time. Itâ??s the experience of watching someone try out something new, with neither the viewer nor, seemingly, the filmmaker sure as to how it will turn out. And bravo to that.

Although when I first saw the film I found it almost unbearably tedious. It was the second time around â?? and through thinking about the several scenes that had somehow stuck with me after that first viewing â?? that the brilliance of the film eked its way into my mind. The moments that stayed with me (the impossibly long car journey at the beginning, the dawn breaking over the salt flats, tumbleweeds blowing in a dreary wind etc) had clearly lodged themselves deep in my memory for a reason: they were wonderfully and strangely fluid, evocative bite-size segments which acted like visual bookmarks, flagging points where the film truly took on an odd, spellbinding power.

The introductory car journey to the wilderness trail (scored to Arvo Pärtâ??s sublime Spiegel im Spiegel) lasting six minutes is hypnotic and, for my money, terrifically beautiful in a simple and effective way. And itâ??s all the initial characterisation that we get really. But itâ??s not a film that requires the viewer to rely on needing to know a great deal about the Gerrys history: itâ??s two guys; they have clothes, an intention to find something (the thing, as itâ??s obliquely referred to â?? we never find out what), and the deserted plains ahead of them. Later on, a painstakingly slow walk to, well, nowhere takes on an almost epic struggle to, not exactly survive quite yet, but strive forward, to reach some kind of place of closure. Although it all sounds like hard work â?? and it occasionally is â?? itâ??s rewarding for the magic contained in Van Santâ??s direction and Harris Savidesâ?? stunning photography: this deathly trek shows the Gerrys literally walking into daylight. As a direct and simple visual experience itâ??s transcendent.

I think seeing Gerry can either be as dull or as invigorating as you want to make it. Itâ??s not exactly an easy or endearing film to sit through (it doesnâ??t have to be), and it certainly tests patience, but by giving yourself over to whatâ??s happening on screen â?? and through mentally working through the events that occur in such moments - itâ??s something that can be a great test to a filmgoers resolve. If we knew what was to happen around each corner then it saps the thrill out of film watching. Thereâ??s very little joy or fun to be had in expected the expected. Cinema without challenge (in whatever form it comes) would be tedious in and of itself; and films like Gerry should, I think, be praised for what they are attempting to do. Two guys marching over barren land isnâ??t the height of entertainment, but itâ??s not what the film is about. I saw it as being like an extended form of people watching, but just tailored around and focused on a meditative, though drawn out, misadventure. Thereâ??s incredible beauty and tenderness (and harshness) in Gerry and Iâ??m glad that Van Sant is trying â?? with this and the two other unofficial companion films, Elephant and Last Days â?? to tell intimate, yet universal stories in ways that donâ??t always get told.