Review

Review Date: 31-October-04
Spoiler Rating: Medium
Juju Judgment: Junk

Birth (2004)

The final marketing push for "Birth" struck me as curious. Releasing it two days before Halloween on the heels of a poster that makes Nicole Kidman look like the bride of Old Scratch, the partner studios appeared to promise a creep-fest for grown-ups, like "The Omen" reimagined with less gore and more sex appeal. This wasn't the reading I got on the movie when I first heard about it several months ago, but I realize now that it was a desperate attempt to recoup predicted losses on a project that should have been stillborn. "Birth" is not a sophisticated horror movie, nor a sophisticated movie, nor a horror movie. It's just a dumb, pretentious bore that offers meager tricks and no treats.

The unusual premise of the film (which initially caught my eye) is as follows: shortly after a wealthy New Yorker named Anna (Kidman) finally agrees to marry her lover (Danny Huston), she is visited by a 10-year-old boy (Cameron Bright) claiming to be her first husband, who died a decade ago. Not only does the boy bear the same name as the deceased, but he knows an uncanny amount of detail about Anna and her family, so much so that no one is able to dismiss him outright. His appearance seriously rattles the insecure bridegroom, particularly since Anna accepts the child and his story with a willingness that isn't exactly normal. (E.g., although the kid is cute, most women wouldn't take a bath with him.) For a while this strange quandary seems to point to a shocking denouement, but it never gets there, settling instead into matters of buried infidelity, social-class longing, and the fatal relentlessness of grief.

Except for the original concept, "Birth" has nothing to recommend it. The film itself is grainy and unpleasant to look at, but the sterile backdrop doesn't merit higher quality. The bland, rarified world in which Anna lives — and the dull, self-satisfied people who inhabit it — inspire absolutely no interest whatsoever, leading one to wonder why anybody would want to attain these goals through delusion, reincarnation, or any other means. (A tinge of anachronism also sets the characters at a distance: Anna, who has a black housekeeper, tells Sean that a husband needs to defend and take care of his wife.) In such an environment the actors don't come off well, but the brunt of the blame lies squarely on director/co-writer Jonathan Glazer (who previously made the much better "Sexy Beast"). The most painful element of "Birth" is the frequency with which Glazer resorts to lengthy shots where nothing at all is happening, unless you count the application of annoyingly grandiose music. The screenplay must have been about 40 pages long, since the dialogue is sparse, and Glazer fills in the gaps like the worst art house wannabe fresh out of film school. It's just possible that a director with imagination might have made something of the script, like Peter Jackson or even Tim Burton. But in Glazer's case, he should have thrown out the baby with the bath water.

Copyright © 2004 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.