The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Attempting to encompass a character's entire life in a single movie is a boldly ambitious endeavour that invites the storyteller to toil in the depths of excess. How can someone not bend to the whims of verbosity when navigating such expansive territory? No matter how masterful the storyteller is, finding a way to explore the avenues of a full life is incredibly difficult to do without sacrificing a certain amount of narrative brevity. While such a story requires an attention to detail and a significant amount of time to properly unfold, it also greatly benefits from a sharp focus on the main character and a commitment to the inner workings of a life, rather than the peripheral occurrences affected by that life. Such a lack of focus is the very problem that threatens to swallow up the wonderfully entertaining, yet emotionally stunted epic The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Luckily, the charisma of its star (Brad Pitt) and the explosive visual vocabulary of its director (David Fincher) rescue the movie from the edges of emotional obscurity.

The story begins with an elderly woman named Daisy (Cate Blanchett) dying in a hospital bed in New Orleans as Hurricane Katrina heads toward the city. Daisy's daughter is at her bedside and so Daisy relays a story about an inventor named Mr. Gateau, who created a clock that ran backwards during the first World War. The idea was to commemorate the fallen soldiers on the battlefield (one of whom was Gateau's son) by literally turning time backwards. It is a cute little anecdote to share, but one that has no business existing in the framework of the overall story. It is merely distracting and a simple excuse to show off a few fancy visuals (such as the image of soldiers storming a battlefield in reverse).

Following the Mr. Gateau tale, Daisy gives her daughter a book to read aloud. Once the book is cracked open, we discover that it is a diary that belonged to a man named Benjamin. It is clear that this man means something to Daisy and so her daughter begins to read. With that, we are thrust backwards in time to the end of World War I, on the night of Benjamin's birth. After such a lengthy prologue, we are finally asked to enter the real story, where we soon learn that Benjamin was born, baby-sized, in a body fit for an old man. His mother dies in childbirth and his father is afraid of him, so Benjamin ends up on the steps of a nursing home, where he is found by Queenie (Taraji P. Henson), a loving caretaker who lives and works at the home.

Benjamin is raised by Queenie and, despite doctor's reports that he will soon die, he instead grows in size and begins to age backwards. It is at this point that the story of Mr. Gateau's clock seems to have some purpose, as it represents the regression of time. The problem is that Benjamin's strange condition is based entirely in the realm of the fantastic and does not require any sort of explanation. The very idea of the backwards clock seems forcefully wedged into the story in order to please those viewers that like their fantasy watered down and rooted in a recognizable reality. Instead of adding an additional layer of complexity to the story, the clock merely muddles the narrative and steals attention away from Benjamin's tale.

Despite this misstep, Benjamin's story is quite intriguing and it takes an inspired turn when he meets a little girl named Daisy early in his life. Daisy is the granddaughter of a woman staying at the nursing home and she is instantly captivated by the mysterious Benjamin, who appears to be very elderly, while possessing a childlike innocence. The feelings of affection are reciprocated by Benjamin, who confesses in his diary to falling in love with Daisy at first sight. Of course, due to their age and Benjamin's condition, nothing romantic can happen between the pair, so they engage in a loving friendship that spans several years. As time slips away, the two drift apart, and each embark on individual adventures that revolve around Daisy becoming a dancer and Benjamin working on a tugboat with an eccentric crew.

Eventually, Daisy and Benjamin re-enter each other's lives and reignite the spark of passion that was never fully realized in the past. At this point, the movie offers some of its best moments, because Blanchett and Pitt share sparkling chemistry on the screen together. Their love is entirely believable and the idea that the lovers are growing in opposite directions makes for a palpable romantic conflict. Director Fincher excels at illuminating tragedy and he successfully exposes the sadness at the core of this loving relationship.

But for everything that Fincher and screenwriter Eric Roth get right, there is the narrative fat in need of trimming that holds the movie back from becoming truly memorable. As soon as Benjamin meets the young Daisy early in the movie, it is obvious that this little girl is also the dying woman in the hospital bed at the movie's beginning. It is clear that Daisy wishes to leave this world remembering Benjamin, but this information adds nothing to the overall story. The eventual romance between Benjamin and Daisy is enough to show us how strongly the pair feel about each other.

But that does not stop Fincher and Roth from constantly shifting the attention of the narrative back to 2005, where the dying Daisy listens to the words of Benjamin's diary one last time. These scenes are dramatically impotent and serve as little more than extended transitions. The inclusion of Hurricane Katrina is entirely unnecessary, as the use of such a real-world tragedy for the simple purpose of tugging at heartstrings feels more insulting than moving. With no genuine emotion to bring to the table, these scenes detract from the story, offering nothing more than momentum-slowing distractions.

One aspect of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button that simply cannot be improved upon is the visual language. Benjamin's world is coated in foreboding yellows early on, which later give way to a palette of cool, harsh blues. At no point is the movie bathed in warm, inviting colours, allowing the sense that there is always a layer of sadness nestled in the imagery. Fincher is a grand visual storyteller and he never misses a beat when it comes to the photographic realization of Benjamin's life. The computer-generated effects and makeup work must also be commended for the way their technical artistry enhances the story from beginning to end.

Striving for greatness and attempting to craft an unforgettable masterpiece, Fincher has instead made a satisfying, though deeply flawed, movie about the difficulties of aging and the tragedies of love. Pitt delivers a very good performance in a demanding role and Blanchett is radiant as always. But the movie has bitten off more than it can chew with the various narrative distractions, such as Mr. Gateau's clock and the framing device of Daisy on her death bed. With so many ideas rattling around in its brain, the movie becomes a victim of its own indulgence and is unable to make the life-altering impression it so desires. But Fincher is a very talented filmmaker and so he manages to keep his movie afloat, offering a piece of enjoyable entertainment that charms even as it stumbles. In the end, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button dazzles the imagination and offers a feast for the eyes, but it fails to invigorate the soul.