Wander Darkly
LIONSGATE
Wander Darkly appears as an illusory odyssey down the ebbs and flows of a human connection at first, but it soon devolves into a lesser, more derivative attempt of previous efforts about the fragility of human existence.
The premise revolves around Adrienne (Sienna Miller) being involved in a car accident with her boyfriend, Mateo (Diego Luna). She is convinced that she has already passed away and that she is now a lost soul in a phantasmagorical reality that alters between past and present. Having observed her bizarre behavior, Mateo goes to his lengths to prove the opposite by reliving their memories of each other as if they’re occurring in the present.
As writer and director, Tara Miele’s intention is hazy. Sections of the story derive from her personal experience, specifically the event of a vehicular collision with her husband and her existential crisis afterward. However, despite its beating heart, she eagerly resorts to genre conventions and crafts nothing substantial with a non-linear narrative. Consequently, Wander Darkly suffers from a sheer lack of its own identity as it follows similar ground to the works of Charlie Kaufman and Terrence Malick without bearing the essential ingredients that brought them into the spotlight.
Like a Terrence Mallick trademark, cinematographer Carolina Costa attempts to evoke life and reflection within the scenery by wandering around skies and seas, past walls and rooms in the perspective as trance-like as Adrienne’s. This omniscient effect is opposed by cuts that stop the frames from lingering on its subjects any longer. The film could’ve provoked a stronger contemplative vibe that would’ve complemented the themes it’s going for.
Reminiscent of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, the journey is ridden with disorienting time jumps as the couple jumps back and forth in the past, evaluating and chastising each other in-between specific moments of their relationship. The editing from Tamara Meem and Alex O’Finn is often seamless with their transitions of different timelines but not quite as intricately effective as Valdís Óskarsdóttir’s handiwork in the Gondry/Kaufman joint.
This is largely due to the screenplay falling short when attempting to justify its chaotic foundations. Unlike Eternal Sunshine, Wander Darkly’s narrative structure fails to capture any intrigue as it is greatly enclosed in the surface-level reasons why the couple should and shouldn’t be together. Without dissecting deep into their internalised personalities, the romance leaves a lot to be desired and its impact is up to one’s credulity toward the subjects. It also doesn’t help when the film arrives at a twist ending that both adds up to confusion and serves as a cheap trick for emotional manipulation.
As a result, Wander Darkly’s love story is ridiculously simple and told in unnecessarily convoluted sequences. Miele is too pre-occupied with distorting the couple’s moments of intimacy and disputes that it forgets about plugging the audiences within the connection of its characters. The film feels more like a hasty couples’ therapy session rather than a full-on exploration of thought-provoking conceits. Miele becomes lost in her film’s absence of linearity, preferring sentimentality over intellect when, in reality, her screenplay insists on both because of its muddled composition.
Be that as it may, what overshadows the film’s flaws are the lead performances. Sienna Miller brings a wide range of emotions required for her role, and she succeeds in tearing her heart out in the film’s tear-jerking climax. Diego Luna is most restrained, being the voice of reason within the couple despite carrying his demons. Their shared on-screen chemistry is impeccable when Miele’s screenplay allows them to loosen up between each other’s presence in their most free-spirited phases.
