Hereafter

After tackling such weighty issues as the ethics of euthanasia, the fear of losing a child (in brutally violent fashion, no less), the horrors of war, the consequences of vigilantism, and even the mending of a segregated nation's wounds through the wonders of rugby, Clint Eastwood is now peering into the afterlife. It's pretty clear that he enjoys posing big questions in loud, life-altering terms. I'm beginning to doubt that he'll ever make a movie that doesn't involve some meaty conflict through which the fate of the world (or our understanding of it) can be carefully communicated. It's a bold approach and one that suffers from an overbearing lack of subtlety, but Eastwood is a skilled director who still makes his cinematic musings worthwhile.

Opening with a respectfully harrowing re-enactment of the tsunami that pummelled Thailand in late 2004, Eastwood's contemplative drama Hereafter begins with a striking visual statement. It's an expertly effective sequence, because it places us directly in the raging waters and forces us to recall a devastating disaster that puts us face to face with death. The identification with the main theme of loss (and how to deal with it) is immediate and this allows Hereafter to plant its feet firmly in dramatically potent territory right from the start.

Sure, Eastwood's way of wringing additional emotion from the sequence by revealing an image of a child's stuffed animal toy floating in the deadly water is completely contrived, but the power of the imagery that precedes that shot prevents the movie from drowning in cliché. Such is Eastwood's style: Never too little, always too much. But while I generally scoff at the kind of sentimentalized imagery that Eastwood employs here, I find myself warming up to the tender heart of Hereafter in a manner that negates the icky, ooey gooey qualities I often so despise.

This is due mainly to Eastwood's abilities as a storyteller, which are so finely tuned, so determinedly dedicated that his narrative flows with ease and glows with honesty. His intentions are solid, but it's more than just that. He knows how to express emotion in relatable terms, so when he goes overboard with a sappy moment or an obvious allusion, the emotion still sticks and makes an impression. It's not as strong an impression as would have been made had Eastwood avoided the cliché or predictable route altogether, but it works nonetheless.

With Eastwood at the helm, it should be fairly obvious what a movie about connecting with deceased loved ones is going to look and feel like. And his recognizable style proves a gentle fit for Peter Morgan's decent, though flawed screenplay. The mixture of real events, paralleling storylines (Hereafter is really a trio of stories linked by the connective tissue of the main theme), and morose searches for answers gives the movie a rather bulky frame upon which to hang the hope and sadness, but it bears the pain well.

One specific aspect of Hereafter that pushes and pulls the movie in various directions, causing a tug-of-war between both the good and bad qualities, is the cast. Matt Damon leads the pack as an embittered psychic named George, who feels that his incredible ability to communicate with the dead (the result of touching the afterlife while on the operating table as a child) is a curse and not a gift. George was once famous and successful, but has since turned his back on his ability, because it brings him nothing but sorrow.

In a second storyline, Cécile De France plays popular news anchor and Parisian celebrity Marie LeLay, whose near-death experience during the tsunami has left her searching for meaning and understanding. Both Damon and France are excellent in their roles, with France proving to have a gloriously captivating screen presence. She's exciting to watch and she keeps her character arc grounded the whole way through. Damon brings a lot of sombre heartache to the movie, but he doesn't sacrifice his charm in favour of the moody frown. There is a hopeful, helpful person nestled inside George and Damon navigates the emotionally convoluted space with care.

Unfortunately, Damon and France are mostly alone in their accomplishment. A third storyline involving a young boy mourning the loss of his twin brother is touching in its subject matter, but also hampered by the limitations of young actors Frankie and George McLaren. Their wooden delivery is unconvincing and their combined performance hurts the movie. The rest of the supporting cast is mostly serviceable, with Bryce Dallas Howard upsetting even that generalization by delivering a considerably weak performance as a potential love interest for George. This further prevents Hereafter from being as powerful as it could be, so it's especially encouraging when we see the faces of Damon and France appear on screen.

Hereafter also benefits from Tom Stern's stark, contrast-heavy photography and Clint Eastwood's soft, melodious musical score. The visual and aural delights of this movie help steer it in the right direction and they are ultimately integral to the overall success of the story. The colour palette is considerably toned down and the world of the living continually straddles light and dark in a manner that matches the visualization of what’s on the other side. The afterlife is a sort of colourless plain buried in fog, which only adds to the mystery that the movie isn’t entirely prepared to solve.

Once Eastwood is ready to let the credits roll, he has satisfied the question of a Hereafter, of hope for the living through the words of the dead, without really answering anything at all. He acknowledges the possibility of an afterlife and the important, inescapable role that death plays in human growth and understanding. There’s not much more to Hereafter than that, but it’s still effective because Eastwood uses the characters to drive the journey. This is not the most poignant or profound meditation on life and death, but it doesn’t need to be, either. Hereafter is about standing in the dark and looking for a light to guide you home. There's a simple sweetness at work here and it's all because Clint Eastwood keeps striving to ask the big questions, even if he doesn't have all the answers.