Noah review: Aronofsky’s Biblical epic is long and flawed

There was a time when Darren Aronofsky was known solely for making bleak, depressing movies featuring powerful soundtracks and ‘MTV-style editing’. This was largely thanks to his first two films: Pi (1998) and Requiem For A Dream (2000). However, since then, he has made three vastly different (and brilliant) films – The Fountain (2006), The Wrestler (2008) and Black Swan (2010) – that have experimented with differing visual and storytelling styles. With his latest offering Noah, a stylised, big-budget reinterpretation of the flood myth from the Old Testament, Aronofsky breaks new personal ground. Handling a massive budget (a reported $150 million), a huge cast, hundreds of extra and more CGI shots than he’s ever had to work with in his entire career, this action-adventure epic is his first foray into blockbuster territory. The familiar story is that of a man, Noah (Russell Crowe), who is chosen by the Creator to save himself, his family and the world’s animals from a catastrophic flood aimed at wiping out all of humanity as punishment for its sins. True to its origins, the characters are painted in fairly broad strokes, with finer details emerging later as the film progresses. His family includes his wife Naameh (Jennifer Connelly), his sons Shem (Douglas Booth), Ham (Logan Lerman) and Japheth (Leo McHugh Carroll); and Ila (Emma Watson), a young girl they rescued from a near-fatal attack and raised. There is also Methuselah (Anthony Hopkins), Noah’s Yoda-like grandfather who helps him realise his calling. [caption id=“attachment_1454543” align=“alignleft” width=“380”] Screengrab from the YouTube trailer.[/caption] The bad guys, a horde of nameless and faceless characters, are led by their king Tubal Cain (Ray Winstone). As a primary antagonist, Tubal Cain is complex and interesting. Although portrayed as villainous beyond redemption, his ideas find resonance in modern concepts of free will and individualism. “We shape our own destiny,” he says at one point, making him no different from anyone you or I know who isn’t overtly religious. On the other hand, Noah is shown to be the archetype of the deeply religious patriarch, who is fully convinced that his actions have been ordained and approved by the Creator, to the point of inhuman cruelty. The dark and emotionally-complex second act, the kind of psychological torment Aronofsky specialises in, explores the duality of man’s nature in the context of our survival as a species, a larger question that can even be applied to present-day institutions such as capitalism and democracy. The visuals, although needlessly shot in 3D, are mostly stunning, barring a few unfortunate instances (the animals in the ark don’t look real at all, for example). The action sequences are well-staged. Matthew Libatique, his long-time cinematographer, goes for an earthy palette and employs sweeping camera movements to brilliant effect. In one memorable shot, when the Great Flood begins, a single drop of rain falls on Noah (Russell Crowe). As he looks back at the heavens, the camera staggers back beautifully to show the entire world covered in a massive storm. Another brilliant montage depicts the Creation myth via typically Aronofsky-esque, lightning-fast cuts, giving it the appearance of a stop-motion version of an especially vivid acid trip. However, two-and-a-half hours later, the journey ends and despite all of the razzle-dazzle, one is left underwhelmed. Why is that? Perhaps it’s because too many things look familiar. The Watchers, a group of cursed fairies who appear as creatures made of rocks, are far too reminiscent of the Ents from Peter Jackson’s Lord Of The Rings. Perhaps it’s because there is no commitment to internal consistency in terms of realism. We’re never given details about how conditions within the ark were, how they managed in that environment on a day-to-day basis and how Noah’s sons were getting amazingly consistent haircuts. Perhaps it’s because the writing, barring a few lines spoken by Tubal Cain, is perfunctory at best, giving it the sameness of all mediocre fantasy fiction. Or perhaps it’s because of its whimper of a final act, which ties up things a little too neatly and carries almost no emotional weight. It is important to note that these complaints are more vociferous because this is an Aronofsky film. When one hears that the Oscar-nominated director o_f Black Swan_ is making a movie on Noah’s Ark, one expects a film that completely subverts expectations. One expects a film that doesn’t shy away from truly visceral imagery and in exploring finer details from the perspective of the 21st century cynic. Aside from its wear-and-tear, Noah suffers from the classic ‘too much of one thing, not enough of the other’ problem. Were this a film by a lesser director, it would be easier to forgive these failings. It would be easy to enjoy Noah as a well-made popcorner that dares to explore dark themes while providing an intense visual experience. But what we have here is about 60 percent of a film that’s about 140 percent longer and more flawed than we would’ve liked. It crumbles under the weight of its own myth – and that myth is Aronofsky, not Noah.