Morvern Callar

Depending of your tolerance for style over narrative momentum, I have these two reviews for you to choose from: 1) This film was well-made. 2) This movie was, well, made.

A film that is certainly made with talent and a great visual flair but is also unbelievably difficult to watch. It just holds so much back and Callar displays probably the weirdest period of grief I have seen in a long time. Some scenes are fantastically uncomfortable others mesmerizing. I guess this is sort of Ken Loach by way of Antonioni. And though I'm very fond of Loach I loathe Antonioni. So this was basically an odd experience.

At first, utterance of perfect visual sentences. Or just words. A limbo of uncopable uncertainty; deconstruction of the self. Then, emancipation. Osmosis: his life to hers. Intellectual (existential) to nirvana. Dostoyevsky to sensual ecstatic, to hermit, to intuitive sage (through pilgrimage), to success, reflection on death, then freedom from the fear of it. To be.

I kept watching because this was clearly made with talent and effort, but fuck if I cared about anything in it. Morvern is drug addled and unsympathetic in her actions, and all events are thin, contrived and totally without motivation. The film can't decide if it wants to be a character study, a grimy fantasy story or a commentary on the lower class and ultimately does none of these things even remotely well. I did like some of the shots, though.

Character ambition is unclear in this external world of sensory experience. All is left to filmed action and Morton's eccentric performance. She follows the inexplicable emotional whims of tragedy, in search of a landscape where she can coexist. This is Antonioni by way of experimental Van Sant. In other words, wonderful.

an ontological cinema that externalises its inscrutable heroine's state of being almost exclusively via movement through spaces, this sits alongside MILLENNIUM MAMBO as antonioni updated for the earphones generation, but it's far too transitory to be pigeonholed as an ennui film. it covers a lot of ground as she untethers herself from every expectation this premise foists upon her, and i'd forgotten how frequently funny it is in mocking those expectations. paulofilmo's review is a favorite.

Every film-making aspect of this film comes into perfect coordination to create a feeling of distant unease and meandering grief. It's like a female (and more morbid) version of Easy Rider.

You could probably accuse this movie of being up its own ass. Enigmatic is one thing, but inscrutable is another, and the titular Morvern's motivations and feelings are virtually impossible to interpret. Which sort of begs the question of why anybody should care. And the answer is because of Ramsay's expert direction; few can portray this sense of dreamlike drifting so effectively, and her compositions (plus, her killer choice of soundtrack) make this interesting, if rarely all that engaging.

Lynn Ramsey and Samantha Morton are both cinematic treasures. Ramsey with her minimalistic photography and attention to sound and Morton with her crushingly sad vibrance. A breakup often feels like a death and here it is literal. Beautifully done.

Ramsey denies the possibility of understanding death, grief or life. That's what makes her movie special. That's what gives her story a sense of optimism, no matter how tragic it is. If there is no logic in the universe, you can't fail. People just trying to survive - and you can't help yourself but love them for their attempt. Espacially if they have the eyes and the talent of Samantha Morton.

Immediately noticeable: Actors that carry themselves like humans do when no one is watching -- no overcrafted dialogue, "knowing" looks and other pretty mannerisms feigned for the camera. Truthful treatment of the disassociative effect of a sudden death, where what's left is enough to function in its wake, though not enough to really keep yourself. One shot, of Morton standing on a cliff at night in the far-off spotlight of a passing boat, is among the most haunting I've ever experienced seeing.

This grew on me. Besides the bumping soundtrack, I must have an instinctual gravitation toward troubled women. I wish I understood McDermott's accent. I don't know if subtle is the right description, but it's a film that leaves a lot of blank space for contemplation. In a world of films with exposition dialog dumps or every scene having to have meaning, it's a nice change of pace to study how the character reacts to external forces, despite my personal wishes. Fav scene: Spanish cab ride.

Another "short" extended to breaking point by Lynn Ramseys desire to kid us that every insect she photographs "really means something, man!". Despite Morton being an exceptional actress, this film went right over my head. Are we supposed to think that a visit to a cemetery is somehow profound? That visiting a bull fight is reminiscent of chopping up her B/F? That going to a rave taking drugs and getting screwed is somehow cathartic? Hang on, I think I am getting this pseudo intellectual babble!

Oh goody! Another indie protagonist without a personality! Also, I own every song she played and that made the movie seem fucking stupid somehow.

reasonably intriguing film about a woman dealing with her boyfriend's suicide. there is a lot of focus on the characters' bodies, as well as the music the woman listens to in her headphones. the film is also without a doubt a complete mess. the tone is all over the place, and while you could say that fits the protagonist's motivations, it doesn't fit together on screen. ultimately, this has none of the warm-bloodedness of lynne's debut ratcatcher, and is inferior for it.

An interesting piece of work, in which Ramsay uses languid pace and lack of narrative exposition to create the space for many questions to flourish in the viewer's mind. Ultimately though, few of these questions are answered, as trying to decipher the character hidden behind Morton's blank expressions is a fruitless exercise. We are never able to scratch the surface of this character's façade, and thus the murder, the deception, the flight and the money all remain, frustratingly, a mystery.

Samantha Morton plays a young woman shocked by her boyfriends suicide. Her acting is almost blank over most of the movie. Even nudity does not elevate this much. Sometimes morbid and frequently confusing. Accents are often incomprehensible. She dismembers and buries the body, then sells his writings as her own. The pace is often slow and plodding. The music frequently bad. This is a very strange odyssey without a lot to say and nothing much to remember.

Subtle filmmaking at its best. With one of the best compilation soundtracks ever.

Identity fractured, reassembled, fractured, reconfigured, and on. Beautiful, but not in an easy way.

A magnificent work of realism, subtle and powerful, Lynne Ramsay's sophomore work is even better than her excellent full feature debut Ratcatcher. The script is sophisticated, the editing is a standout feature (again), Samantha Morton is awesome in the lead, and the soundtrack is a discerning and tasteful assemblage of industrial and electronic rock.

Ramsay effectively introduces a melancholic but hopeful world-view in this arrestingly solemn film. An absorbing experience.

Big waste of time.

By no means a terrible film, the tale of a woman who takes credit for her dead boyfriend's novel can be marginally associated with the gigantic DMZ Trainspotting left when conferring the stubborn ennui hovering over anyone living in Scotland (or so they they tell me). Despite the linear storytelling, still feels like an unmarked postcard rather than an undelivered letter, though the two bear ghastly similarities since you're still asking at the end who is morvern callar?

An incredibly fresh breed of movie - an adventure story of the protagonist's soul.

Not a bad film, but it isn't my cup of tea. Except for the soundtrack, of course, which features some favourites. Well, just Can really.

I watched a film noir last night which had reviews praising its "style" but leaving out the fact that the plot was a little thin and the characters were very hollow. I'm tempted to copy those words here; it's very nice to look at (and with a better-than-average soundtrack), but I felt no connection with the main character. Whatever the film was trying to say, I wasn't hearing it.

The style here somewhat makes up for a questionable narrative. It kept grabbing me, then losing me, then grabbing me again. There's enough of interest here to be worth it.

There is an alternate universe in which Ramsay/Morton become one of the elite director/actor combos

O Romance de Morvern Callar estreava há 20 anos em Cannes. Tenho sentimentos díspares quanto a esse filme, se o vemos literalmente ele é meio assustador, mas se o vemos como alegoria do crescimento pessoal de uma mulher, ele é bem bonito. BlurayRip no MakingOff

Escapism from escapism.

Not at all what I was expecting. Feels a bit like Lynne Ramsay is trying to squeeze blood from a stone with this script. Ramsay's direction/presentation is typically excellent, but this just isn't a story I can get on board with. I mostly just found the actions of the titular character confusing or reprehensible. Didn't get much from this one.

In a war waged between total psychic pain and uninterrupted material pleasure Ramsay is content on a stalemate. It is an effective contemporary anti-drama though it seems some objective consequence may have been too conveniently unexplored.

Fixated on the surrealism of death and loss, the avant-garde displays a self indulgent grief that seems bizarre, yet completely close to home with it's mix of emotions. A gaze persists with Morvern as only we, the audience, understand the truth of her inner turmoil that soon manifests in the real world. The smallest hints of a natural world and it's decay, bring her back to reality as she continues on for her loved one.

First i got in touch on this movies soundtrack. Then i though: ok, lets watch the movie too. And that was right thing to do. Movie is pure bliss. It makes the viewer to do the thinking. Of course it helps, when you are Britt or even better when Scott. Anyway, director Ramsay is pure genius.

Excellent. Outstanding performances.

The opening scenes are so perfectly realized in every way, intensely emotional without being at all overstated, as Ramsay does so well, but the thread of relatability I was so closely attracted to in the beginning begins to flicker in and out in the cold idosyncracies of the second half. That said, I'd love to see the movie again with a better transfer and especially higher fidelity audio (I watched on Prime Video) to better appreciate the minor moments that comprise the whole of the atmosphere.

karakterin ruhsal durumunun yansıması diyerek dahi vurucu hale gelmesi zor olacak kadar savruk yapısı izlemesini zor ve fuzuli hissettiribiliyor. buna hazırlıklı olunca belki etkisi çok daha yüksek olur fakat böyle bir dağınıklık beklemeyince dahi ramsay'in dilinin mecranın imkanlarını çok iyi kullanmak üzerine kurulu olması bir noktada o zorluğu değerli bir sürece çeviriyor.

What begins as a fascinating and intimate portrait of helplessness, denial and loneliness turns into a bizarre roadtrip ending in the title character's transformation. The whole arc makes total sense and I enjoyed it, but seeing her in that little apartment, jumping over the corpse of her boyfriend because she couldn't emotionally come to terms with his death, it was a small but brilliant thing I'd never seen. Ramsay somehow turns every moment into a penetrating, beautiful POV.

This is how you shoot a club scene.

aprendi que posso vender as idéia dos namorado e ficar rica, obrigada morvern

For me the film serves as one of the oddest, quietly heartbreaking yet seemingly emotionally repressed looks at grief that one could possibly envisage. Far from trying to discover herself Morvern's journeying is just so that she can distract herself from the pain. The film's aesthetic is wonderful, putting you right in the midst of Morvern's sensory experience and Samantha Morton gives an impeccable performance, denying us the easy insight we so crave and so making it all the more fascinating.

Most Gen-X slacker films are populated by well-educated, middle class college graduates--twenty-somethings floundering in search of meaning, while engaging in navel-gazing conversations. Imagine replacing that type of person with a poorly educated, lower class person--maybe even mentally slow--and you've got someone like Movern Callar. (probable score: 70)

Ramsay seems like a contradiction here: she has great control over cinematic composition that distills emotion, but still feel distinctively "outsider." Minute details of everyday life are injected with symbolic meaning,and while its plot pretty quiet and depressing, it's handled in a penetrating, voyeuristic manner that manages to make Callar's grief feel almost alluring.

Perhaps I should rewatch.

A better and deeper version of Daisies. The giggling teenagers enviroment might seem weird and annyoing at first, though, as the movie goes on, you begin to understand it is perfection.

Saw it at time of release, didn't especially care for it - think it needs a rewatch though. *rewatch: liked it a bit more than the first time, but still was not especially gripped by this. has some nice sequences and morton is good. (previous score: 50)

"Few films this year have been as resolute in their emotional nakedness." - Chuck Rudolph

One of a kind. Unlike anything I've ever seen.

I feel like this film could have been 15 minutes long without losing a thing. Really just dragged out, with an artsy feel that doesn't seem natural - it's forced and doesn't contribute much to the film.

Antonioni for the new millennium...

breathtaking