by James Tanner McMahon
Uberto Pasolini’s second directorial effort wastes no time on the insignificant questions of a human life. Rather, the 2013 independent drama “Still Life,” slated for wide release in mid-January 2015, tackles some of the toughest topics possible: solitude, life and death, and empathy. Despite such an ambitious goal that could perhaps have fallen short, the result is nothing short of stunning. An incredible example of the power of filmmaking, “Still Life” blends an emotional story, amazing performances by its cast, and evocative cinematography to produce a film that will not easily be forgotten, and a message that will affect one’s view of the human condition.
A meticulous and quiet man, John May (Eddie Marsan) is a council worker who’s job is to attempt to contact the next of kin of the recently deceased and, if no contact can be made, to arrange for a proper burial or cremation of the body. As the viewer learns quickly, May exhibits an almost saint-like appreciation for the dead, and routinely goes above and beyond what is necessary in order to provide an adequate funeral – painstakingly arranging ceremonies whose attendance is made up only of himself and the religious practitioner. Upon finishing a day’s work Marsan’s character heads to his lonely apartment, eats alone, and sleeps only to repeat the process the next day. When a certain case hits close to home, however, May embarks on a journey to understand how a life can end in such isolation, and in the process grapples with his own existence.
In a film that essentially follows one character in solitude, the performance of the lead actor is absolutely crucial. As one should expect from an actor as talented as Eddie Marsan this is no problem for “Still Life.” Beyond expectation, though, one gets the sense that this is a role Eddie Marsan was incomparably suited to play his subtle mannerisms, his dry English demeanor, and the understated power of his presence on the screen combine exquisitely to make John May not just a relatable character, but one that leaves the audience full of compassion for his struggle. Marsan’s performance is not diluted by those of the supporting cast, either; in an unfortunately short amount of screen time, Kelly Stoke (Joanne Froggatt) develops a love interest that reels the viewer in almost as much as it does John May. On top of this, the film succeeds amazingly in developing a source of empathy for the numerous deceased that May deals with over the course of the film.
“Still Life” is as powerful visually as it is conceptually, featuring countless standalone shots that evoke the eye while simultaneously supporting the themes of the story. Blacks and whites dominate the palette of the film, symbolically reinforcing the underlying presence of life and death, and of the uneventfulness with which John May has led his life thus far. This drab appearance, beautiful in its own way, starves the viewer of the colors that are normally expected of a film. When splashes of color do appear on screen, then, they are all the more vivid, and these moments are expertly reserved for key points in the story. It is this aspect of intentionality, an understanding of exactly what the film is trying to get across and how to do it, that makes “Still Life” so powerful.
The motif of life and death is a common theme in countless works of art, many of which fail to properly handle a topic that is so universal and meaningful. “Still Life” is one of the standouts that does not fall short, as it addresses the topic with a blend of confidence and reverence, saying what it wants to say without ever coming across as self-important. A great example of the transcendent potential of film, this is not one to miss.
Score: 9/10
