From The Wall Street Journal
All Is Lost'
This is one of those films you either buy into right away or dismiss as a stunt. I bought in—much to my surprise, since it promised to be a stunt—and far from feeling any remorse, I grew more invested as the going got rough.
The going gets exceedingly rough in J.C. Chandor's existential thriller, with Robert Redford as a solo sailor struggling to survive in the vastness of the Indian Ocean after his yacht collides with an errant shipping container. That's the cast, that's the plot: No back story for the unnamed yachtsman; no dialogue, apart from a brief and affecting preface plus a very few words en route; no tiger, no mystical or religious subtext. The only thing we know the sailor believes in is celestial navigation, which he uses, after the failure of his boat's electronics, in an effort to maneuver into shipping lanes where he stands a chance of being rescued.
What engaged my interest at first was the staging of the collision: no setup, no drama, just a bang in the night and a gouge in the fiberglass hull that presages disaster. But "All Is Lost" amps up as its hero's options dwindle. It's a meditation on mortality, with remarkable resemblances to "Gravity," not to mention echoes of "The Old Man and the Sea." It's admirably crafted, with a wealth of detail that illustrates the sailor's resourcefulness. (Credit for the cinematography is shared by Frank G. DeMarco, who worked above the water line, and Peter Zuccarini, who shot the underwater sequences.) "All Is Lost" is also a showcase for an understated yet mesmerizing performance. You can't help seeing Mr. Redford as the star he has been over so many decades. At the very same time, though, you see him as the sailor, suddenly vulnerable yet ferociously determined to live.
The actor has become vulnerable too. At 77, he looks more or less his age. He has the rugged face of someone who has spent too much time in the sun. His golden hair has lost its backlighted glow. Yet Mr. Redford gives his character a formidable physicality. He is said to have done almost all his own stunts, and clearly enhanced his performance in the process. As bruised and battered as the sailor becomes, he is youthened by the struggle he's unlikely to win. It's all strangely but genuinely stirring.
All Is Lost'
This is one of those films you either buy into right away or dismiss as a stunt. I bought in—much to my surprise, since it promised to be a stunt—and far from feeling any remorse, I grew more invested as the going got rough.
The going gets exceedingly rough in J.C. Chandor's existential thriller, with Robert Redford as a solo sailor struggling to survive in the vastness of the Indian Ocean after his yacht collides with an errant shipping container. That's the cast, that's the plot: No back story for the unnamed yachtsman; no dialogue, apart from a brief and affecting preface plus a very few words en route; no tiger, no mystical or religious subtext. The only thing we know the sailor believes in is celestial navigation, which he uses, after the failure of his boat's electronics, in an effort to maneuver into shipping lanes where he stands a chance of being rescued.
What engaged my interest at first was the staging of the collision: no setup, no drama, just a bang in the night and a gouge in the fiberglass hull that presages disaster. But "All Is Lost" amps up as its hero's options dwindle. It's a meditation on mortality, with remarkable resemblances to "Gravity," not to mention echoes of "The Old Man and the Sea." It's admirably crafted, with a wealth of detail that illustrates the sailor's resourcefulness. (Credit for the cinematography is shared by Frank G. DeMarco, who worked above the water line, and Peter Zuccarini, who shot the underwater sequences.) "All Is Lost" is also a showcase for an understated yet mesmerizing performance. You can't help seeing Mr. Redford as the star he has been over so many decades. At the very same time, though, you see him as the sailor, suddenly vulnerable yet ferociously determined to live.
The actor has become vulnerable too. At 77, he looks more or less his age. He has the rugged face of someone who has spent too much time in the sun. His golden hair has lost its backlighted glow. Yet Mr. Redford gives his character a formidable physicality. He is said to have done almost all his own stunts, and clearly enhanced his performance in the process. As bruised and battered as the sailor becomes, he is youthened by the struggle he's unlikely to win. It's all strangely but genuinely stirring.
