The Art of Trash: Ryan Gosling’s LOST RIVER

A new column that draws clear lines between high art cinema and low trash exploitation.

Genre cinema has often been thought to be the antithesis of the arthouse. Sure, people accept that there are artistically inclined genre films but these are often thought to be the exception and not the rule. While these lines have been are continue to erode, exhibitors have done their best to keep these worlds separate. Exploitation films were enjoyed in the raunchy, rambunctious grindhouses while those from European Auteurs were viewed in arthouse theaters. What happens, however, when a film straddles the line? The distinctions between grindhouse and arthouse are not always so easily defined. [Title] aims to look at movies that reside somewhere between these two spheres. These are films that appeal to both exploitation as well as arthouse sensibilities, and, most importantly, these are films that challenge the ways that we view and judge cinema.

The death knell of nearly any piece of criticism is the proclamation that a work’s inferiority is a result of its believed pretentiousness. It is generally here that people stop engaging with a work and start maligning it. Far from stating that art cannot be pretentious — it can — writing off a work as pretentious is more often than not a vapid response that leads to little more justification. It’s easy to call a work pretentious but it’s quite hard to prove something is actually pretentious. A recent work that has been caught in a hail of similar critiques is actor-turned-director Ryan Gosling’s debut feature LOST RIVER. Making its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival, the closing credits ushered forth a barrage of boos bellowing from the crowd. Gosling is no stranger to this reaction. In fact, his 2013 collaboration with Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn, Only God Forgives, was met with the same reaction. A cursory glance at films booed at Cannes — Pulp Fiction, Antichrist, and Taxi Driver among many more — will reveal just how effective a critical gauge it can be.

In the months following the films debut, critics’ take on the film hardly softened. LOST RIVER currently sits at a 30% on Rotten Tomatoes, with less than 20 reviews supporting Gosling’s vision. The film has been called “painfully obvious or patently nonsensical,’ “an aimless and bland experience,” and “indulgent,” with nearly every review quick to point out similarities that exist between Gosling’s film and Refn’s output. Subjectivity aside for a moment, is LOST RIVER honestly just a film of beautiful yet empty images? This would seem to be, at best, a gross reduction of the film’s intricacies and, at worst, a blatant disregard for a powerful debut. While Gosling’s vision is certainly post-modern, the message contained beneath the vibrant surface is far from hollow.

To put it bluntly, critics have misunderstood LOST RIVER. This is not to say that they aren’t smart enough to understand it — far from it — but many have either immediately miscategorized it or overlooked an important distinction. Too many have looked at LOST RIVER as an arthouse drama and all the baggage that comes with these “art films” (even those that skew mainstream). However, this is only one aspect of Gosling’s film. The other is that the film is an unapologetic genre film. A dystopian fairy tale, a psychological horror, and a psychedelic neo-noir in one, LOST RIVER is both simple and deep at the same time. Genre cinema has always favored easily digestible symbolism. William Friedkin’s 1973 masterpiece, The Exorcist, lays bare its interest in the science-religion dichotomy, while recent films like IT FOLLOWS and THE BABADOOK develop non-complex visual metaphors for contemporary ails. This is what LOST RIVER does so well, and separated from the pretense of Gosling’s stardom and connection to the almost equally chastised and revered Refn, LOST RIVER can be seen as a work of beauty and imagination.

At its core, LOST RIVER is concerned with rapidly declining state of America. The film is set sometime in the distant future. The universe the film resides in is developed subtlety, although there do exist a number of expository scenes sprinkled throughout. Viewers soon get a lay of the land, a world where law and order has not completely eroded but has begun to break down. It’s not entirely dissimilar to our own reality but fragments are distorted. With a strong interest in the declining middle class and the exploitation of people vis-à-vis the housing market, it is hard to not read this chaotic state of the world as a metaphor for the declining American Dream. Further, the film has a strong interest in non-traditional family units. Christina Hendricks plays a single mother desperately trying to hold on to her home and family. LOST RIVER hyperbolizes modern day, revealing the horror of common ailments. Despite numerous claims that Gosling was riffing on David Lynch, it is really only in his interest in revealing the ugly nature that lies just beneath middle class America that Gosling is most in tune with Lynch.

Gosling’s masterstroke, here, was to hire DP Benoît Debie to shoot the film. Debie is best known for his work with French filmmaker Gasper Noe, their collaboration leading to some of the most striking films ever to be made. LOST RIVER doesn’t quite achieve that level but it is still a stunning feature. LOST RIVER is a neon nightmare, with Gosling and Debie taking the best pages out the history of gialli stylization in order to craft a work that attacks viewer’s senses. This is where the film has, as well, received a great deal of slack. The two critiques are that the film is either empty or that it is too derivative of other films. While there is some truth in the latter claim, LOST RIVER is far from a carbon copy of anything already in existence and to reject it outright because it lays its influences on the surface seems a bit silly.

Gosling is probably best at getting honest performances from his cast. Hendricks is better than ever as the film’s ostensible star, Billy. Her performance is confident while simultaneously vulnerable. The film also features a commanding performance by Ben Mendelsohn. Mendelsohn may be one of the finest actors working today, and his performance here only further solidifies that. In one of the film’s best scenes, Gosling mixes fear, sexuality, and humor together, as Mendelsohn’s character torments a trapped Billy with dance that suggest something more sincere at its core. It is to Mendelsohn’s strength that the scene is so effective, the Australian born actor easily able to deliver these widely ranging emotions in a single scene, transforming what could easily be a ridiculous scene into a great one.

When viewed in line with genre cinema, LOST RIVER is revealed as far less of a pompous effort and more as a visceral experience. While certain aspects are more visual than they are didactic, there is plenty to ruminate on. Whether it is Barbara Steele’s melancholy, silent turn as a an aging matriarch idly watching videos of her deceased husband on loop, the seedy underbelly cabaret club featuring lurid, violent performances, or seemingly innocuous and simplistic character names (Billy, Bully, Bones, Rat, Cat, etc), LOST RIVER is a quite clearly a film that trades simplistic depictions for a greater depth. What genre cinema has always done best is offer easy answer to difficult questions and this is exactly what Gosling does with the film.

Perhaps the film’s grossest mistake is that it is too pretty for its own good.

Maybe if the film looked and felt a little less like an art film audiences would it see it for what it really is?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQ2Nd53ye-Y

Movie News
Marvel and DC