This could be 20 minutes longer to give depth to Pattinson reappearing as the Bastard. I don't buy the intertitle as literal, nor do I buy the father beating his son out of cuckoldry - basically dynamic of the parents & Pattinson should be explored to that end. The childish "tantrums" did a great job of poignantly being analogous to 2010s proto-fascism. Walker's score was incredibly effective given the slow pace.
Actor Brady Corbet's directorial debut leaves a lot to be desired in terms of the near-fainéant progression of the story. However, despite its sometimes unbearably slow pace, the cinematography is wonderful; the score is horrific and incredible; and the brilliance of the third act (Prescott's ominous childhood transformation into a fascist idealogue) makes the whole film worth the watch.
Il film divampa in un finale zulawskiano di terremotante ed enigmatica potenza, che fagocita la Storia; un attacco di panico universale che annulla l'Apocalisse, sospendendo entrambe, rimandandole, anzi, rendendole eterne ed ideali, quindi extra-storiche, destinate a reiterarsi in ogni epoca, su altri globi d'argento, attraverso figure cristologiche che si capovolgono, perché il Male è inizialmente un angelo.
Impressively boring. The mismatch between ambition and execution is staggering -- what the hell is this about? The childhood of a fascist dictator; and yet, the character seems to be a normal, petulant child. The bombastic score, faux-novelistic framing, and ominous tone are all empty gesture, pointing toward meaning that isn't there.
I watched this based solely on Scott Walker's magnificent score, which was also my favorite part of the movie. There's a lot to recommend in 'Childhood of a Leader' but I found something aseptic in its emotional core. The dread, the sorrow, the arrogance--none of it impacts as fully as I think it could've. Props to the dream sequence & its resurgence toward the end. I'll be watching Corbet. More Scott Walker please.
Painfully pretentious. The director meditates more on his own virtuosity than the story. The cinematography was quite something, and the score was an absolute triumph - but the storytelling falls flat. While critics are foaming at the mouth over this, I was left utterly disappointed and angry. Airy, pretentious nonsense that tries to draw a parallel between mild tantrums, the fall of Europe, and the rise to Fascism.
Coma fa una figa del genere a stare con piero angela???? Il film è una merda totale, sembra una puntata lunga d'elisa di figombrosa o qualche soap da culorotto trasmessa da mediaSERT la domenica pomeriggio quando c'è la sosta della serie A, soundrtack dozzinale e senza senso, frocinson che si sdoppia, brady CoBret che nel finale collassa x overdose e riprende accazzodicane...ma poi che cazzo di nome è prescott???
Unsettling, for sure, but kinda a little adorable too. But you know what's not adorable? Families. All families are monsters. And, of course (it suddenly strikes me as soooo obvious), both Gothic horror and incipient fascism are equally about that monster. So here it is: Gothic horror about incipient fascism. And how many other American child actors are growing up to direct movies influenced by Alexander Sokurov?
A brilliant score to unveil the nature vs nurture debate. It's hardly a bold or singular premise that a disturbed childhood will create a damaged, perhaps dangerous adult. But the movie's portrayal of cause and effect is too simplified, making the powerful ending somewhat unrealistic.