VIFF 2020: Last and First Men
Last and First Men is a bittersweet entity; not only contextually does it summarise the end of all things humanistic to a drastic evolution into the other but stands as the first, and sadly last, directorial effort from composer Jóhann Jóhannsson.
Jóhannsson's directorial debut is nothing short of magnificent within the realm of experimental cinema. It is a beautiful, albeit morbidly staged, piece of craftsmanship that accentuates the ideal of restraint and production design to tell a story in utter perfection.
Shot exclusively in monochrome with a limited amount of footage spliced in as a narrative, Tilda Swinton acts as the sole character and narrator. Last and First Men's success lies solely on the fact it is both immersive and engaging, of which it succeeds ten-fold.
The imagery and cinematography on offer from Sturla Brandth Grøvlen and Jóhannsson are spellbinding. The aforementioned monochrome broods with emotive mood and the slow zooms on the film's iconography craft an undeniable effective substance to the already fabulous imagery.
Swinton, with her exquisite narration, elevates the material with her incredibly reaffirming and smooth dialect. Offering an oxymoron relationship between delivery and dark substance and context, it derives. Equally, the score from Yair Elazar Glotman and Jóhannsson adds another spectacular profound element to proceedings. Foreboding, thunderous yet soft. The score has such touching and otherwordly quality it is assured to suck the audience in its quaint gravitas.
Granted, it is a film for its context that does struggle with its 72-minute running time, due in part to the filmmaking aesthetic and overall narrative. There are portions in which an audience not accustomed to experimental film will find tiresome or in parts dull. However, for those who enjoy and are immersed in the works such as this, Last and First Men will hold something incredibly special.