septimus_millenicom

_The Tree of Blood_ is a full-blooded return to Julio Medem's world of _Sex and Lucia_, the film that made him famous. It has attractive characters who seem to run entirely on hormones, make love in the sea, howl at the full moon. They have an over-abundance of imagination and interior life but little psychological depth. That is not a slight; would you rather Medem do another _Ma Ma_, so awkwardly conventional and uninspired you wonder if he has just had lobotomy? (The lead characters there even root for Real Madrid Football Club -- what kind of Basque filmmaker care about that club?)

This film doubles down on the writing- within-a-film aspect, having not one but two protagonists write (or gleefully invent) their convoluted and bloody family history which gets them to where they are today. A couple, struggling with the legacy. Story-telling as lived-in, malleable tall tales. If I describe the plot you'd probably think me insane; it is a bit like _One Hundred Years of Solitude_, but without politics (the couple agree to leave that out), and with lots of cows. (His first feature is _Vacas_, which I still haven't seen.)

The rhythm is very fast, as Spanish films usually are (or perhaps it is an illusion due to how fast they talk.) There are many characters, some played by 2 or 3 actors as time goes on. The camera is a restless, ever circling ghost. The two protagonists sometimes step inside their stories, share a backseat with their ancestors; then you scratch your head when different generations of the family actually get into the same car-wreck. It is all a bit much; one probably needs 2-3 viewings to get everything straight, and I'm not sure the film is worth watching that many times. But for Julio Medem admirers it is imperative you watch it once.

Let me propose a litmus test. Are the characters more interesting than a cute animal video on youtube? In _Showing Up_ we have an "art film," artists and art objects all over the film (Michelle Williams and Hong Chau preparing for their shows) ... and the pigeon upstages them; it comes off as the most alive, most interesting character. Director Kelly Reichardt is clearly not very good.

Michelle Williams *is* very good with her trademark quiet, plaintive dignity. Her Lizzy has a lot to deal with at work and at home. One can readily feel her scratchiness, the need for a hot shower.

Watching her succeed in her studio under these distracting conditions is worth the two hours. Her sculptures are interesting; so are Hong Chau's installations. (And Chau is convincing as the negligent, passive-aggressive landlady.) There must be amazing human stories about the inspirations, historical parallels and contrasts, etc., behind these pieces.

And therein lies the film's glaring failure. There is no revelation or illumination. Someone praises the work "colorfulness"; the two artists drop a few names as the credit rolls. That's it. Reichardt stacks the deck against them, making them look dull, perhaps even fraudulent. _Showing Up_ is less _Le Belle Noiseuse_ than _Tar_ -- another poison-pen dismissal of well- established disciplines.

This kind of thing gets you rave reviews from critics these days. But I'd like to see Reichardt does something which isn't a 100% concession to the grader.