One of two blood brothers, a “wealthy”, once-famous, Hollywood actor, who relies on make-up even in real life, returns home after decades for the funeral of the other, who, though a financial flop, is the model of a perfect person because “he had a knack for being content with whatever he had”, in Flashbacks of a Fool.
The story is a cross between Cinema Paradiso (rich, aging bachelor in city wakes up with naked woman; long distance call from mother who informs that someone special has expired; and man goes back to old town/countryside, after eons) and the Summer of ’42 (serene locale; virgin teen with older woman; and the grim reminder of WWII).
The film opens with a demonic blunder. A child with a cherubic smile slits his palm with a knife, while another looks on, sweetly. Performing this ritual, his expressions do not change. Even as the blood gushes out there is not even the slightest trace of pain on his smiling face. Now, any psychiatrist will tell you that this is a dangerous omen.
It creates the impression that the characters in adulthood would be ruthless or grey. This sets an incorrect tone to the film, for, quite to the contrary, the duo grows up to be decent folk with their share of human mistakes. It is understandable that what was meant to be established right at the start was simply the closeness between the pair. But what was the purpose of having a dramatic visual? Was it simply to shock?
The place in which Scot (Daniel Craig) lives in is in striking contrast to the one he is about to revisit. One is filthy-rich; smells of cocaine, booze, and women; and is fake. The other is a romantic poem, a simple, childhood cottage by the seashore. He jumps into the ocean to cleanse his soul before he revisits his past. The sounds of the waves, later, often splash onto and merge with the trippy background score.
The one who has expired unexpectedly, of course, is his childhood blood brother. Perhaps, he should have visited him at least once. Perhaps he waited too long.
As the “successful in life” Scot makes his way back, flashbacks of the natural treasures that he ran away from—the place, his best friend, and a pretty girl—play in his mind. Baillie Walsh’s coming-of-age drama isn’t as romantic as a lot of people would like it to be. Times change. People change. Tastes change. What is unreal is desirable. And what is real is not always that sweet.
