Rating: The Sea Of Trees isn't the out-and-out disaster that early reviews would have you believe, but there's no escaping that, after a pretty strong run of In Competition films, Cannes 2015 has offered its first dud. One of the main points behind the disappointment-cum-hatred is that the film comes from Gus Van Sant, Palme d'Or winner and all-round filmmaking deity. There's a lot to be said of how broad and manipulative the filmmaker is at points, but, even taking this purely on its own terms without such lofty expectations, the film doesn't hang together. The undoing factor is one so simple it almost sounds like a final impression is getting in the way of wider judgement. The ending (which won't be spoiled here - it does that itself) takes a film whose concept offered many rough-and-ragged avenues to explore and ties it all up in a tight bow aimed at drawing out easy tears. It repurposes what the film was masquerading as and leaves you feeling empty, rather than the desired uplifted. It's not just poor delivery that's the problem though. Oh, the ending is a drawn out process, with the final half-hour paced so slow and the narrative pay-offs so overt it's like watching a DVD special feature shamelessly dissecting the movie, but the explanation itself is the weakest avenue the movie could have taken. The film sets itself up as this realist drama driven by grief, but winds up discrediting that very idea. Most regrettably, for the majority of the runtime the film was actually working. There's nothing that was ever going to make bookies odds for the Palme d'Or shift crazily, but a strong opening sequence and well segued flashbacks suggested this was at least going to be an interesting look at a tricky subject. Central to this side of things is Matthew McConaughey. His recent run of form has been so consistent that his mere presence in a film turns it into a must see. The Sea Of Trees didn't really need that added selling point, but what he does with the the role of Arthur, an American who travels to Japan's Aokigahara, a suicide hotspot, to end his life, only to find himself working to live after crossing paths with Ken Watanabe, is pretty interesting at the very least. The Texan drawl is held back and he once again proves himself the master of the cry face; one moment, where he reveals his motivations for visiting the forest as the reflection of a camp-fire dances over his cracked glasses, is particularly poignant. That scene, a lengthy exchange composed almost entirely of close ups, is one of the few that holds its majesty after the credits have rolled. The obvious, forced, saccharine, and, most irritatingly, convenient ending has its roots so deeply embedded throughout the bruising two hour runtime - the balance of science and faith is mentioned early on and visual clues are obvious sown - that it ends up ruining scenes that previously got by on a sense of goodwill. What could have been an unfortunate ending to a fair film winds up tainting the whole picture. Flawed from a conceptual level, The Sea Of Trees has moments of interest (and plenty that will bring it appeal to the mainstream), but not enough to make up for such obvious storytelling. Keep up with all of our Cannes 2015 coverage on the official page here.
