Film Reviews

Youth Without Youth

• Rating:
• Director: Francis Ford Coppola
• Starring: Alexandra Maria Lara
• Details: USA / Germany / Italy / France / Romania / 124mins (15A)

The credits for Youth Without Youth tell us that it is written, directed and produced by Francis Ford Coppola, but by the looks of it Shrodinger's Cat was coaxed out of that box to attempt a redraft. Adapted from Mircea Eliade's novella, the story follows 70-year-old linguistics scholar Dominic Matei (Roth) who worries he won't finish his life's work - the origin of languages and the human consciousness - before he dies. When he is struck by lightning, Dominc regresses in age and seems to be able to master languages he never knew. He assumes a new identity and leaves WWII-torn Romania for Switzerland, where he meets the beautiful Veronica (Lara), a dead ringer for his true love who died years ago. However, Veronica is also struck by lightning and assumes the identity of 7th century Raffini. Speaking in ancient languages, her age accelerates at an enormous rate. What is going on? What's going on indeed? I probably lost you at 'Shrodinger's Cat' but I lost myself at 'The credits for...' such is the incomprehensible nature of the film - and I didn't even mention Nazi spies, nefarious doctors, Dominic's alter ego, Chinese philosophers and a love story (well, I did now). It's an ambitious undertaking - especially considering that Coppola hasn't made a film since 1997's The Rainmaker and the budget here was miniscule - and it's admirable that someone even attempted to bring this story of transmigration and the relationship between dreams and reality to the screen. With such an 'out there' yarn, the film begged for a steady hand to guide the viewer through the melee, but Coppola's direction likes to be as unusual as the plot itself: cutting from colour to B&W, from cold colours to warm, from Dutch angles to upside-down shots and split screens, Youth Without Youth sets out to rock the viewer's understanding of story and filmmaking to the core. Done and done.

Review by Gavin Burke