If you've ever wondered what happens when filmmakers get bored of storytelling, look no further than the 2009 film 'Here.' Directed by Braden King, the movie follows American cartographer Will Shepard, played by Ben Foster, on his geographically and romantically uncertain journey through Armenia. It's a film that aims to be deep and profound but ends up diving headfirst into pretentious territory.
The film released in 2009 is a visual experiment dressed up as a movie, with landscapes that are more engaging than the actual plot. Now, who wouldn't be excited about a road movie in a country most Americans couldn’t find on a map? But let’s not fool ourselves, this film isn't about to generate tourism revenue for Armenia.
For a nearly two-hour runtime, the film tries to string together beautiful vistas, leaving the audience either in awe of Eastern Europe's surprising landscapes or just straight-up confused. There's the apparent love story between Foster's character, Will, and Gadarine Nazarian, played by Lubna Azabal, an Armenian art photographer. But does it draw you in? Not really.
A reasonable question here is, “Was the dialogue even written for real people?” At times, it sounds like characters are trying to out-nerd each other with arthouse jargon. The conversations are peppered with philosophical musings that, for most of us, sound like they were copy-pasted from an existential crisis blog. Instead of conversations that show people falling in love, we get puzzles masquerading as dialogue. It makes you wonder if this is what the art elite really sound like in their ivory towers.
'Here' attempts to make up for a thin plot by being visually hypnotic, and good for it. Each frame is a mini-masterpiece, a postcard begging you to appreciate the shades of sunset or the deep blues of a river. The cinematography might be the film's only saving grace; it’s a shame these pretty pictures are punctuated by such a plodding storyline.
Critics of mass entertainment might argue that audiences lack the patience for works like 'Here,' suggesting that we’ve all been brainwashed by superhero movies and fast-paced thrillers. But perhaps it’s not our patience that's lacking; maybe it's the movie's inability to engage a wider audience that’s the real issue. Despite the scenic views, the pacing is glacial. When it’s not filled with miles of empty plains, the film seems to be meandering without a road map.
Another challenge for 'Here' is that it flirts with political themes without the courage to commit to any stance. It’s ironic in a time when being 'politically aware' is both a marketing tool and a minefield, a film like 'Here' chooses instead to skirt the edges, leaving everything open-ended. It's neither here for a profound political rant nor for a subtle, quiet commentary on global borders and identity.
The film screened at Sundance and international festivals where it no doubt gathered a group of nodding, glasses-wearing intellectuals... and then it sort of disappeared. Ask yourself, how many people at those festivals remembered 'Here' as they lined up for the next quirky independent project? Outside of festival circuits, you'll be hard-pressed to find anyone who has even heard of it, let alone seen it.
From a conservative point of view, films should communicate stories that captivate, entertain, or at least make a definitive statement. Unfortunately, 'Here' is like an artsy map drawn by a cartographer who avoided clear lines and boundaries, leaving viewers lost in arthouse obscurity. All aesthetics and no action, 'Here' falls short of delivering anything meaningful. So, while some might call it a misunderstood piece, most of us would just call it a missed opportunity--backed up by mountains and maps, but ultimately, not a lot of direction. It’s peculiar how a movie about finding the way can't seem to find its own.