Only God Forgives

Initial reaction for the new collaboration between Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn and American actor Ryan Gosling was pretty split. Many were strongly put off by excessive violence and the generous helpings of blood and internal body parts, others found their seedy interpretation of the Thai underworld to be the staggering feat of photography that it is. Only God Forgives is controversial, not least because the previous Refn-Gosling combination was the celebrated modern classic Drive. The latter was more of a mainstream crossover for Winding Refn who is usually to be found overseeing opaque art house pictures. Though there was always a focus on luscious aesthetic, it was a feature running parallel to a distinctive and unambiguous plotline. Only God Forgives is different, chocker block with grey narrative areas – there are more dream sequences and metaphorical scenes. Perhaps this was a deliberate artistic direction change for the Dane, a chance to draw in new audiences and critics with Drive before blowing them away with the challenging surreality and dark alleyways of malice and wanton violence on show here.

The story focusses on a pair of expat American brothers Billy (Tom Burke) and Julian (Gosling) who involve themselves in the Bangkok criminal underworld, whilst running a local Muay Thai boxing ring. Billy gets killed (that's not a spoiler - it happens near the start) bringing their viciously matriarchal mother Crystal (Kristin Scott Thomas) from America. Julian and Crystal become embroiled with the local policeman Lieutenant Chang (Vithaya Pansringarm) and his penchant for sword swinging in a never ending lust for revenge.

Scott Thomas is brilliant as the menacing and tyrannical Crystal; she glitters in her scheming, revenge obsessed way, coaxing and manipulating all around her. The relationships she has fostered with her sons are laced with Freudian nightmare: allusions of incest between Crystal and Billy are frequent. Julian appears to be outside of that, and the matriarchal fall guy for all that goes awry. He is a complex character, torn between courting his mother’s approval and the haphazard botched set of ethics he condemns Billy’s perverse antics with. His composed exterior bristles with relaxed rationality, yet there is a rage that boils red raw underneath – he is said to have murdered his father. This duality just about escapes from another withdrawn Gosling performance in which he again utter very few words. There’s no doubt that he has perfected that look of his – the esoteric half-smile and enigmatic far-away look in his eyes on a foundation of threatened hyper-violence.

Julian seems to have some kind of in-built equilibrium, a quid pro quo sense that some things must be taken in return for his criminality – hence the penitent ending. These punishments are meted out by Chang, the most fascinating character in this picture. He acts as a self-appointed moral executor in a city bereft of law or justice. Although his carnal judgements are based on his own idealistic morality, there is too little time given to his character as a person – only a perfunctory glimpse of a happy home, replete with wife and daughter. His character is carefully guarded, and seemingly beyond reproach; it’s a shame because a deeper examination of his psyche might have a laid a sterner foundation for the limb-hacking carnage he inflicts on those he deems wrong-doers. Okay so he’s probably supposed to be a kind of anarchic angel but it’s not a feature expanded upon enough, and so it just looks like gratuitous violence.

Though there are some character flaws, this is maliciously seductive: it’s a beautiful looking film, based on dynamic photography and pulsing electronic music (brilliantly soundtracked by Cliff Martinez of Drive fame). It renders the film an utterly captivating watch. Only God Forgives is a neon bleached blitz, sometimes highly stylised sometimes gritty and difficult – but always with that Refn aesthetic in mind (though he is significantly influenced by the 60s and 70s Chilean cult filmmaker Alexandro Jodorowsky – to whom OGF is dedicated to – who also dabbled in the phantasmagoric and surreal). Its look really isn’t that different from Drive: both take place in dark urban environments, lit only by the vice and torment of its inhabitants. But this is grislier fare with more obscure motives and not for the faint of heart, yet it remains wholly compelling. If anything though, it’s a darker continuation of Drive rather than a distinct move away from.