Reseñas de la crítica

Filmed with a formal composition and an austerity apart from one dream sequence which threatens to wake everyone up, Master Gardener has a lot of skill in its realisation, which makes it so puzzling that the one area that really lets it down is the script.

Want a masterclass in screenwriting? Watch how Schrader evolves the relationship between Narvel and Maya into romance... At 76, more than 20 films into his storied career, Paul Schrader can still deliver a sucker punch.

The beauty in Schrader’s work has always been in the relationship between penance and absolution, which feels noticeably absent here. It’s a shame because the trio of Edgerton, Swindell, and Weaver deliver strong performances, and Devonte Hynes’ romantic score with a slight edge of sombreness is nicely atmospheric, but the film’s third act feels too neat and unconvincing.

The central metaphor [in Master Gardener] is sound... But the central existential dilemma doesn’t feel as soul-scouring here as it did in First Reformed or The Card Counter, and Swindell’s character ultimately doesn’t feel like much more than kindling for Narvel’s personal crisis.

Paul Schrader delivers another compelling investigation of conflicted men in modern America. Master Gardener has a stately pace but a knockout punch; enriching cinema for the discerning punter.

Far from being a political drama, or one of a political miscreant’s redemption, “Master Gardener” seems more like an erotic thriller... As for the rest of the themes, the matters of history and of race, of mentorship and of gardening, they are, for better or worse, about as ornamental and as instrumental as [American Gigolo's] Armani clothing and electro-disco soundtrack: outward-directed, audience-grabbing icons of the times.

Schrader is alive to the electricity of actors, and Edgerton is crackling with it... There’s a fantasy element to Master Gardener that bolsters the movie’s convictions rather than weakening them.

Despite its general tenor of quietude... “Master Gardener” is, among other things, a terrifically emotional film... [Schrader] is a great artist, [and] this work here is up to the high standard he’s set for himself over the past decade and more.

For all its looming menace and potential violence... Master Gardener is sweet, and, horror of horrors, hopeful... Where an optimist sees archetypes, the cynic finds cliches, and the film ultimately stumbles to bring life to either.

Master Gardener plays less like a thematic finale and more like the director is trying to exorcise himself of his perpetual idée fixe. It’s as though God’s lonely man has finally gotten sick of his own company, too, having been secretly eager to stop brooding, get out of the house, and maybe get laid.

The possibility of redemption hangs over this movie, as it does in much of Schrader’s work. But for the first time in this trilogy, that possibility is resolved in a manner that feels neither fully examined nor earned.

There’s much to admire about [Master Gardener's] tense dreaminess, its pulpy undertow and severe elegance, as well as the astonishing, awkward sincerity with which Schrader hurtles headlong at questions of love, hate, race and redemption in an unforgiving world.