LFF 2021: All is Vanity
LFFFor about an hour of Marcos Mereles' All Is Vanity, it is on course to be something not necessarily remarkable but undeniably inventive and immersive – taking the formula of narrative presentation having puddles of fun revamping, recontextualising, and reconstructing narrative structure. For those sixty minutes, it verges on being exceptional. But all good things must come to an end, and it is a shame that the next twelve minutes from writer-director Marcos Mereles nosedives into nothingness.
It would come as no surprise if Marcos Mereles stated that Shane Carruth's Primer is a major inspiration for this piece of work. It feels eerily similar in construction and creation in terms of minimal craft in production but intriguing and exceptional narrative. By any means, this is a strong feature to get off the ground as a directorial debut, as it showcases undeniable skill and craftsmanship behind the camera in terms of screenplay and the aforementioned meta-creation of its reveals. To that extent, it is a roaring success, and as Primer launched the career of an indie icon, it would be a strong hope that Mereles can have that same propulsion, even if the independent market is in ruins in this current time.
Nevertheless, it feels somewhat strange to have this belong in the 2021 London Film Festival. It is fun – even with problems – but in no way is this a feature that feels at the point to be in mass-circulation due to its less-than-the-presentable result. Within context, this is a feature with a minimal budget, and while that is not a problem, it is the rough around the edges colour grade and surrounding elements of production that give off a strong University final project evocation.
It does work somewhat on a contextual level that later reveals within the narrative to be the case within the story, Mereles just about gets away with it. However, this is giving the benefit of the doubt, as it is at a push due to most of the film being shot in the same aesthetic manner. Regardless, the cinematography in the later scenes and the set design are left stagnant and leaves so much visually to be desired in terms of emotive endearment. That is, if the viewer can understand or even begin to care about the climax to the feature, that changes this quite immersive and surprising feature to an unneeded existential investment.
Cards are close to Mereles' chest, but the viewer, if applicable to closely analyse and give substance to this story, could perhaps find a conversation on the trials and tribulations of an artist becoming lost, in part, and a part of their soul torn in that emotional weight of dying and being reborn. But again, this is with the mercy that Mereles' is even attempting such or to put words in the director's mouth, an ideal that is obviously not the intention to state, as this review speaks from a personal level and not that of Mereles himself.
It is incredibly well-paced for just seventy minutes and presents a few emerging talents in the making, but aside from Sid Phoenix – who is allowed to entertain his skills with a dynamic entry of performance – the surrounding cast list is offered little in range or an ounce of depth. Perhaps an element due to the shortness of the piece, but it evokes more of an idea that Mereles tries to subsidise this with his big finale existential ending that reveals hidden secrets and depth but, as stated, said reveal is flat and empty – a shame, if anything else.
Regardless, All Is Vanity might be biting a little more off than it can chew. It is a great first impression of talent that is ready to pour heart and passion with a clear interest in subverting expectation – a lovely precedent if it can be maintained – but it undercuts itself with a strange layer of a substance that feels little weighted and only to find a solution to end the piece rather than feeling an organic finality to proceedings.
