Eastern Promises
Even if the script failed him in the end of his acclaimed 2005 thriller “A History of Violence,” Canadian filmmaker David Cronenberg seems to have found an increased maturity and intelligence in his continual probing of the psychology and soul of the dark side of man of late. Even if the film was once my worst film of all-time, my recent appreciation for Cronenberg’s art makes me curious to revisit even “Crash,” his exploration of sex and car crashes that struck me as an offensive and unpleasant exercise. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still something deviously intriguing about more horror-based efforts like “The Fly” and “eXistenZ,” but with “Spider” and now “Eastern Promises” in particular, Cronenberg seems to have moved past the grotesqueres of genre to more adult explorations of his cinematic themes. Like Hitchcock, the technical skills are still there, but the storytelling is more polished and precise. And now, Cronenberg has directed his “Vertigo” with his latest.
Viggo Mortensen, reteaming with his “History of Violence” director, stars as Nikolai Luzhin, a muscleman and driver in the Russian mafia in London. The tattoos all along his body point towards a past that will not only inform his future but be a secret to many in the film. He’s the right-hand man of Kirill (the excellent Vincent Cassel), the live-wire son of crime boss Semyon (Armin Mueller-Stahl) who runs a restaurant along with a prostitution ring that Kirill abuses for his own pleasure. One of Semyon’s girls, a 14-year old, is our introduction into this world as she walks up to a convenience store clerk, pregnant, bleeding, and passing out- her voice is the one we hear frequently on the soundtrack, as excerpts are read of her diary by Anna (Naomi Watts), a midwife on call at the hospital when the girl dies after they save her baby. The diary and baby will both be important items when Anna tries to learn more about the mother and the circumstances of her death, all the while bringing herself dangerously close to Nikolai and the violent world he inhabits.
But as with all Cronenberg, nothing is as it seems, and Steve Knight’s exceptionally literate and complex screenplay has some unexpected left turns to follow as Anna and Nikolai pull the curtain out from around the world they live in and the minds they leave hidden to the world around them (while Howard Shore continues to delve deep into the heart of darkness musically with his sinuous score). And in Watts and Mortensen, Cronenberg couldn’t have chosen a better cast. Watts is a marvel as always, uncovering past hurts in this decent person that inspires great personal risk for a greater good. And Mortensen is mesmerizing, digging deep into Nikolai’s personal demons and skewered sense of morality (an early scene where Kirill forces Nikolai to take a young woman to prove his manhood is impossible to shake) as circumstance and common sense become as important of survival weapons as brute strength, although the latter comes in handy when he’s setup at a bath house and attacked by two thugs. OK, the subject matter’s a little harder than Hitch ever explored, but Cronenberg’s passion for his themes comes from the same obsessive impulse as the Master’s. I still have many more of his films to see, but as of now, none of his films have been as elegant and haunting as this one. Like “Spider,” it stays with you till the end. You’ll do the same watching the film.
