REVIEW: All Is Lost (2013, Dir. J.C. Chandor)

How much can one director do with Robert Redford and a boat? I wouldn't have thought much. And I didn't think much. I skipped this one man disaster film last year when it closed MIFF. The dubious promise of Redford sitting wordless on a boat in the middle of the ocean for 90 minutes just wasn't that appealing to me. The word from friends after they poured out of the party was pretty positive. I put that down to the alcohol.

Now, over six months after the fact, I find out that All is Lost, director J.C. Chandor's super economical lost at sea drama is more than just worthy; it's an intense, bare-boned saga of survival that does more than I would have believed possible with its minimal toolset.

I have respect for Chandor's work here on almost every level. It's an aggressively framed film. Nothing that goes on before Redford's lone sailor is jolted awake by an errant shipping container matters. From then on, it is just instincts and seamanship. Redford is an absolute champion. He never leaves the space. He keeps it almost completely silent. He never gives more than he needs to. He never breaks. He never slips into easy sentimentality. He is the model of acting understatement. It is astonishing to watch.

It is also refreshing to experience a film stripped of every skerrick of verbal exposition. Just as Redford only gives what he needs to, Chandor's near wordless screenplay does its work stripped back to the most primal storytelling elements. There is hardly any filler here. Every movement, every shot, presses to the film's ever more inevitable conclusion. It is almost perfectly structured, but it is not without its narrative frustrations. I don't think I've ever wanted to shout, "USE A SMOKE FLARE!!!" at a cinema screen quite so much in my life. Nor have I ever though I'd have to shake my head and say, "No, don't start a fire there!" But rather than being distancing, these aggravations add to the immersive experience. I'd bet in the same situation (not that I'd ever step foot on a yacht of my own free will) I'd probably make some questionable decisions myself.

All is Lost is taut cinema and it works on that visceral level. It is only when Chandor grasps at more that the film falters. I'm a reasonably pragmatic cinema goer, not prone to overlaying a spiritual significance to film's of this ilk. Films like this, which pit a solitary figure against the expanse of existence, I view solely in terms of life and death. I struggle to place a soul or higher power into the dynamic. I didn't buy into that dominant, spiritual reading of Cuarón's Gravity last year and, again, it doesn't fly with me here. This is Redford versus the sea, yes, but I'm not going to give the sea more than its due.

I'll hazard that this is the reason I walked away from All is Lost without the emotional devastation that many audience members cite. I marvel at the film's technical grace and its almost flawless ability to keep in the moment but I struggle to pull resonance from its transcendental motif. I don't begrudge Chandor the attempt, the effort has resulted in some stunning images, but it didn't strike with me.

A tense, technically dextrous cinematic exercise, expertly performed.

★★★☆

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