With 1999's Ratcatcher, Scot Lynne Ramsay emerged as a promising talent; a director quite prepared to rate style over substance, with a poetic touch she brilliantly evoked the touching tale of frustrated youth. With Morvern Callar, she now beautifully adapts Alan Warner's cult novel into an almost minimalist mood-piece with some skill.
The eponymous anti-hero (Samantha Morton of Minority Report) comes home one Christmas Eve to find her boyfriend has committed suicide, leaving his latest novel, along with numbers of suitable publishers, and a mix-tape of his favourite tracks as a parting gift to her. Rather than panic and/or mourn his tragic death, she instead leaves his body where it is for a number of days as she changes the name on the novel's manuscript to hers and sends it away to be published. Telling no one of his fate she then proceeds to carve up the body and bury it in the nearby hills. Caught in a dead-end job and with little to stimulate her, the death acts as a catalyst for her own personal journey of self-discovery. Along with best friend Lanna (excellently and amusingly played by Kathleen McDermott) she sets off to Ibiza for adventure, with the promise of a lucrative book deal ahead. The trip becomes a testing time for their friendship as Morvern flits between places, taking off unannounced on flights of fancy without much thought for Lanna or her own well-being.
This is quite an extraordinary film, due in no small part to the central character. Unfathomable, almost semi-autistic, she appears to inhabit a world of her own throughout, a visceral world unconcerned with social mores, expectations, and conventions. To have such a lead character, not particularly likeable, and emotionally corrupt, is a strange experience. There is a mystery to her which Ramsay seems never to get close enough to and instead we are left as bemused as those around her as to her thoughts and intentions (why is she reacting like this? What is her history? Is she perhaps slightly psychotic or merely reeling from the unexpected death of her lover?). Ambiguity of such proportions means we are left none the wiser come the end of the film, which is a little frustrating. In addition there are some issues which are never resolved, not least of all surrounding the boyfriends death. Throughout however, Ramsey's direction is thrilling enough to pull the whole thing through still glowing. She films in such an unhurried way that we are often left with bizarrely long lingering shots which creates a strong sense of realness. The action is for major parts of the film silent, very little dialogue appears, and the silent periods are often punctuated with music, taken from the compilation left to her at the start.
The soundtrack is remarkable, featuring some of Warp Records' finest: Boards of Canada, Aphex Twin, Broadcast, with some Lee Hazlewood and Velvet Underground thrown in for good measure. This electronic backdrop is perfectly suited to the film, warm yet inhuman. The final scene set in a club, the music intense and the saturated flashing red and white lights pushing you back into your seat is really great. For its little action perhaps the film does overrun a little, yet it remains a worthwhile dreamy little puzzle of a movie. |
