It’s easy to see how Button lost the fight against Slumdog in the end of year reviews and awards ceremonies – alongside Danny Boyle’s bravura flash and feelgood punch, this stately, contemplative storytelling reminds viewers of the past rather than the speed of change in the developing world and what that means for the future and has a slow burn effect that takes longer to sink in.And that’s what impressed me – this is David Fincher all grown up, as strongly hinted at in his previous effort Zodiac. The flash, the look-what-I-can-do with-the-camera trick shots are entirely absent in Button, Hitchcock references are kept to the bare minimum.
As you well know by now, this is the story of a man born old who dies young – experience is wasted on the young, youth is wasted on the experienced, etc. While it is framed as a conventional tragic romance, the subtext chills this writer to the bone, fearful to a ridiculous degree as I am of physical and mental infirmity: Button of course rather than experience both together at the end of his life experiences them separately at the start and at the end of his life respectively.
Born ironically on the wave of euphoria at the end of the Great War, from the beginning we know we are watching Button’s slow, agonising march to death. The story – and Fincher’s stately pacing – draws out the pain and joy of Button’s life and experiences like a long blade on a sharpening stone. The emotional pull is strong, but reigned in – this is Fincher after all – the emotional jolts are not served up as jabs or punches but aching, slow, burning cuts that require longer recovery.
Brad Pitt, effects n all, is effortlessly subtle, achieving a level previously unhinted at, while Cate Blanchett, cruelly overlooked in the gongs, is of course pure class (and, my lord, those legs!) as the love, quite literally of Button’s life.
Supporting turns are top-notch performances from the likes of Tilda Swinton, who seemingly can’t put a foot wrong these days, and Julia Ormond, who continues her stunning comeback.
Oh, there are criticisms – it is slow throughout, no doubt. And both the symbolism of the humming bird and the hokey effect that produces it are not what one would expect from Fincher. But neither is the assured, confident, adult touch behind the camera, his desire to show off absent as he simply serves the story.
Some have the made the assumption that this is another Forrest Gump – and that’s understandable given that it’s written by the same author and features a similar high concept. With Gump, Button shares an innocent simplicity, an unwavering faith that people will reveal the best in themselves (there’s no cynicism here) – but here the hero is no simpleton, he fully grasps the tragedy of life around him, he has desires, and he realises there are burdens that he cannot carry due to the nature of his condition, forcing upon him unexpected extra emotional crosses to bear.
This is a work of some emotional weight (there’s a genuine rawness to the scenes between Ormond and the ageing Blanchett) and therefore it will live longer in the memory than Slumdog. The greatest compliment that I can pay this movie – and Fincher – is that it feels like a Frank Darabont movie.
Score: 8.5/10
