In a world where maps and GPS systems control our sense of direction, the independent film 'Here' takes you on an unexpected voyage through the rugged terrain of Armenia. Directed by Braden King and released in 2011, this drama follows the journey of Will Shepard, a solitary American cartographer, played by Ben Foster, who is tasked with updating outdated maps. He soon pairs with Gadarine Nazarian, portrayed by Lubna Azabal, an introspective Armenian photographer who is as enigmatic as the landscape they traverse.
What makes 'Here' stand out in the realm of indie films? It's a poetic blend of visual storytelling and intimate connections—a true departure from the Hollywood agenda that often prefers explosive action sequences over nuanced art. The film asks the quintessential question: Can we ever really know where we are if all we see is marked by the limitations of data and ink? Will and Gadarine journey not just through the geographical contours of the land, but through the emotional and existential terrains of their own hearts.
It's not just the narrative that hooks you. The film's cinematography is a character in itself, painting sweeping landscapes that would make even the most seasoned traveler consider ditching their passports (and their politics) to explore the unchartered paths of their own lives. It makes you wonder—you might have the whole world on your smartphone, but does that mean you're truly experiencing it?
And while the film skirts around the edges of romance—never fully diving into the predictable entanglements you'd expect—it also explores the complexities of human connection in a way that's rare today. Gadarine, with her tangled history, challenges Will's notions of precision and certainty. The chemistry between them is undeniable, yet refreshingly void of cliched Hollywood romance. Their relationship is emblematic of the push and pull between tradition and modernity that so many societies grapple with today, yet it never clunks you over the head with preachy messages.
In a cinematic landscape dominated by superhero franchises and the incessant churn of remakes, 'Here' harks back to a time when movies were crafted to provoke thought and reflection rather than loud indifference. It's a film that requires patience and introspection, qualities that are perhaps lost on the modern moviegoer constantly in search of instant gratification.
However, one cannot ignore the film's pace, which moves like a slow, scenic train ride rather than a high-speed chase. Is this type of pacing a nod to an era where films weren't hurried essays but rather long love letters to the art of cinema? Or is it simply a consequence of director Braden King's style, which some may call indulgent? Either way, whether you find it meditative or merely meandering can depend on how open-minded you are as a viewer.
The sound of the film is another deliberate choice, incorporating an atmospheric score by Michael Krassner that enhances the film's meditative quality. It seeps into your thoughts like a distant memory recalled on a quiet afternoon. This isn't the kind of soundtrack you download a single track from; it's an experience that intertwines with the visuals to create a whole greater than its parts.
As much as 'Here' is a film about mapping physical landscapes, it's equally about mapping new paths within oneself. It urges the audience to look beyond the pin-drops on their memory and seek truth in unmarked territories. It's a captivating reminder that sometimes the destination isn't what matters.
In a world enamored with binaries, this film asks you to wander through the gray areas. It’s a rare gem that combines philosophy and art without the overwrought dramatics that might unfold if handled by mainstream filmmakers. So, if you're in search of an indie film that will leave you pondering and provoke your worldview, 'Here' may just be your ticket to a journey worth taking.