If you didn’t want to see Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche reunite after The English Patient, your need to have your blood checked for AI wires. HOWEVER, the only conclusion I can make about The Return’s flat tire feeling is that they put the film out as is, as a tribute to one of the writers, Oscar nominated (Blow Up, 1967) Edward Bond, who passed away in March. Homer was the originator of course, but the aforementioned Bond was aided by modern day writer John Collee.
What the film lacked: a rich cinematography would have added a layer of stimulation, or a sense of the fantastical or mythological, which could be an anti AI/anti CGI take that humans can carry a story. If the latter was the case, I’d jump on that bandwagon. Compared to over spectacled Gladiator 2, I’d take this film any day of the week. Like Penelope, I know that one special human can make or break your world view. I digress.
In the bow and arrow sequence which was riveting up until the firing, the actors looked like something from a high school theater troupe in their dying.
What the film possessed: a human love story (Fiennes and Binoche), a father-son struggle (Fiennes and an excellent Christopher Plummer) as well as boys being boys (with only two standouts amongst 10 or so, those being): Marwan Kenzari as Antonius and Claudio Santamaria as Eumeo. And possibly the first film in history with full frontal male nudity and zero female.
The Return takes quiet patience, but watching Binoche and Fiennes is always a masterclass in acting. For those two and for the love of humanity, The Return is worth the admission fee.
