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 Hereafter (12A.)

Directed by Clint Eastwood.


Starring Matt Damon. Cecile de France, Jay Mohr, Bryce Dallas Howard, George and Frankie McClaren. 124 mins

In the mid sixties Clint Eastwood made his name in Sergio Leone’s Spaghetti Westerns playing The Man With No Name, a whispering purveyor of death. Now the best part of half a century later his directorial career has taken on the same character – he is now the supplier of still, quiet, lulling dramas that rest peacefully on the screen in front of you. After Invictus it takes some nerve for Eastwood to make a film about near-death experiences.

In the style of Babel it tells three separate stories from across the world which are destined to interconnect at some stage. In San Francisco, Matt Damon is a physic who refuses to do readings any more because he sees it as a curse rather than a gift. French TV journalist Cecile de France’s career falters after a life changing experience alters her perspective, while in South London two twins try to cope with a junkie mother.

The novelty of the film is that it is features two film makers operating well outside of the area they are known for. The script is an old one by Peter Morgan and quite unrecognisable as the work of the man who wrote Frost/Nixon, The Queen, Longford etc. Where they were tight and crisp the plotting here is meandering and contrived.

The laudable aim of the film seems to be to forge an opportunity to consider ideas of the afterlife outside of any religious attachment. At one point a character writes a book that gives the film its title. Nobel winning scientists are interviewed and speak about a conspiracy of silence surrounding the results of their research. Interesting stuff ….. none of which is in the film, it just gets mentioned in passing.

Granted, Hereafter does open with a jolting and exceptionally well made sequence (which I won’t reveal here) that shakes up expectations and stirs up some interest. Gradually though the film slowly moves away from this light. The plot doesn’t develop as much as atrophies, moving towards such lifeless mush you can barely believe it is a Clint film.

The idea of Clint revealing his spirituality is certainly a shock: like David Starkey guest starring on Glee. But this is a very Clint vision of the afterlife – functional, practical, non denominational and entirely reasonable. When Powell and Pressburger tackled the afterlife in A Matter of Life and Death heaven was filmed in monochrome and life was glorious Technicolor. In Eastwood’s vision both this life and the next are presented in the same dull flat grey tones.



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