Video Americain

Review

TLA Guide:
Enfant terrible Dumont continues to push the limits of graphicness and audience patience with his third feature, an alternatingly exhausting and exhilarating exercise that is never less than completely cinematic. Ostensibly on a road trip to the Twentynine Palms area for a photo shoot, David and Katia (the real names of the seemingly improvisational actors) instead spend most of their time looking for places to piss, eat and fuck. American and French, the two have more of a barrier than just language, but have a disquieting connection in their base impulses. The rich deep-focus cinematography captures the gorgeously barren landscape, acting as a reflection of the characters' primal behavior. As the two regress further into animalism the mood becomes ever more ominous, until inevitable barbarism rears an uglier head than anyone could be prepared for. The long, languid takes provide a sense of space and time that only movies can capture, making this a rewarding work of art for many; be warned, however, that it (along with the extended sequences of raw, explicit sex) is never less than unsettling. (English and French with English subtitles)

Danger After Dark:
It’s a considerable stretch to categorize Twentynine Palms as a genre film of any sort, but French director Bruno Dumont (whose film Humanite won the Cannes festival’s Grand Prix in 1999) has described his work as an “experimental horror film,” and viewing this strange, troubling film within this context makes it an even more disturbing and hypnotic experience. Palms is quite possibly the controversial Dumont’s most sober and austere work to date, a minimalist meditation on turbulent passions and sexual violence amid the emptiness of the American desert. And indeed, it is also a horror film, in which the near-total absence of genre melodramatics creates its own kind of suspense. The plot is inconsequential: attractive young couple David and Katia travel to the town of Twentynine Palms, CA to explore the surrounding desert terrain. Dumont chronicles the couple’s daily minutia of driving, eating, having sex, and fighting with measured, real-time precision, allowing the viewer to become gradually cognizant of elements of menace and dread that lurk outside the couple, just as their own tumultuous union threatens to destroy their relationship. Dumont uses landscape and environment masterfully, constructing a subtly unnerving tone of paranoia and apprehension that ultimately builds to a genuinely shocking conclusion. Palms is an undeniably difficult and demanding film – essentially defined by its horrific denouement, the film otherwise largely observes the monotonous daily routine of its two protagonists with unsparing astringency – but for patient and adventurous viewers, Dumont’s unique achievement is often mesmerizing and haunting.

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