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REVIEW: Noah (dir. Aronofsky)
'... In
place of a sultry middle East, Aronofsky shoots against the black sands of
Iceland in a parched, dessicated landscape that looks less pre-apocalyptic than
post-apocalyptic. Like many post-punk imaginations Aronofsky makes a fetish of
impurity. This earth looks already destroyed, as indeed, in his telling it has
been: by man. The word “God” is absent from this ecological retelling of the
Biblical narrative; Noah instead talks throughout of “the Creator,” and the
earth is destroyed not for its unchecked fertility and murder rate but the
despoliation of it’s natural resources. The film’s boldest stroke, though,
comes from a logical quibble with the Book of Genesis: if God was asking Noah
and his family to repopulate the earth, was he not demanding incest? Aronofsky adds an adopted daughter, Ila, played
by Emma Watson, to give them an out, but Noah remains convinced that God’s
intention was to exterminate all of mankind for his sins, including him and his
family; he grows homicidal on the Ark, and afterwards drinks himself into nightly
oblivion, convinced he has failed. All this is perfectly in line with
Aronofsky’s prevailing ethos of adamantine self-punishment, even as it usurps
divine prerogative— Noah has almost become a deity unto himself, dispensing his
own justice. He even steals one of His
best lines, “be fertile and multiply.” The irony is that if a self-recriminating
protagonist, bent on oblivion, was what he was after, the Bible had one all
along, maybe not as overtly self destructive as Randy “the Ram” Robinson, or
Nina in Black Swan, but a creative, just
like them, a perfectionist driven by rage for the imperfections of his creation
(“for I regret that I made them…” 6:7), and so annihilating it in
what amounts to a massive fit of artistic pique. Aronofsky’s clearest aesthetic
alter ego is entirely off-stage.'
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