Undoubtedly one of the strangest movies of the last decade: here's a late period Clint Eastwood film that more often feels like a mid-period M. Night Shyamalan film (and I'm not just saying that because of the presence of Bryce Dallas Howard). But "Hereafter" is as unfussy as you'd expect Eastwood to be while tackling the notion of an afterlife, with a genuine heart for its broken down and lonely characters.
Suffering & death are part of life, and EASTWOOD, on the paths of the Beyond, reminds us with humility. It's not an exciting subject, it is a slow, sometimes boring work === La souffrance & la mort font partie de la vie et EASTWOOD, sur les chemins de l'Au-delà, nous le rappelle avec humilité. Le sujet est grave et n'est pas passionnant, mais une oeuvre recueillie & lente, parfois trop. Welcome back Marthe KELLER !
0. The absolute intellectual indigence. To continue to make of Eastwood's name a profession-of-faith in an author, in a film that accumulates the most incredible new age thoughts - in which the metaphysics of a Paulo Coelho's kind replaces any intelligent philosophical hypothesis -, with a filmmaking that repeats the jaded schemes of a standard narrative, seems to me incomprehensible. And sterile.
***1/2. I've always liked the Greek God Hermès. One of his numerous tasks is to be the gods' postman. He's the messenger, the medium. In HEREAFTER, Clint Eastwood extends this metaphor and tells us three stories about people responsible for providing a link between two worlds. Clint, as director, is also de facto one of Hermès's friends : he must invent images to bring his thoughts into light. Highly recommended.
A good, but not great Eastwood-film. Brilliant production design, beautiful cinematography by Tom Stern, some really strong moments and good acting throughout, but the french storyline drags and the film never seems to have a rythm to it. And, as always from Eastwood (except "Changeling",) absolutely terrible music.
Trite hokum of the worst order. Absolutely eff-all happened, with no meaningful exploration of themes that required a more poetic touch, not Eastwood's workman-like direction. It adds up to 2.5 hours with two-dimensional characters who serve to set up a deeper rumination that never comes. Abysmal.