OPENS OCTOBER 17, CERT TBC, VARIOUS MINS
Boldly straddling the chasm between obscure gallery installation and provocative arthouse epic, The Cremaster Cycle, made by Björk's boyfriend Matthew Barney, is as sumptuous as it is obtuse, as impervious as it is ambitious.
This strange, haunting film follows a middle-aged man who arrives in a remote Mexican village where he plans to commit suicide. Heavily indebted to Tarkovsky, the film strains for arthouse credibility with pretentious religious symbolism and achingly slow pace. Still much of the imagery is arresting, and its glimpses of rural life are raw and underpinned by an earthy comedy.
Screenplay by the author Calder Willingham, generic domestics handled by Duvall's Pop and Diane Ladd's Mom, sexual disruptions dispensed by major-outfitted, Oscar-nominated Laura Dern as the teenage housekeeper. Her Rose has an earned rep, but Mom leaps to her defence. Mom's had enough of the South, too. The Button, Lukas Haas, pants and ogles from the sidelines.
Born in Miami but weaned on the mid-'60's coffee house scene around Boston, Smither remains a strangely undiscovered talent. The 11th album of his 33-year recording career is a masterclass in deftly-picked country blues guitar, drawing on Lightnin' Hopkins and Mississippi John Hurt (a sunny-side-up cover of "Candy Man") alongside the more lugubrious Fred Neil. Smither's weathered old pipes are a joy as he tramples over melting chords like a bear with a migraine.
