“Jindabyne”
Director Ray Lawrence
Sony Pictures Classics
(Out Of 5)
“Jindabyne” is not a Dr. Seuss character, a magic incantation, nor a nine-step self-help acronym. It is the name of a town in New South Wales, Australia, home to the self-titled film ““ the third masterfully executed feature by Australian director Ray Lawrence.
Based on the short story “So Much Water So Close to Home” by Raymond Carver, “Jindabyne” is a thought-provoking, immersing and emotionally atmospheric depiction of a backwoods suburbia full of residents striving to lead normal lives in the face of troubled pasts.
However, the community is confronted with its own instability when four men discover a girl’s body in the river on an annual fishing trip and, instead of reporting it immediately, tie the corpse to a tree branch and fish for three days as planned. Moral outrage reverberates through the town, the outcry directed not toward the girl’s murderer, but instead at the men who dared to enjoy themselves in the face of tragedy.
Gabriel Byrne (“The Usual Suspects,” “Stigmata”) is brilliant as Stewart Kane, the family-oriented auto mechanic who makes the decision to leave the body in the river. He plays Stewart with a stubborn integrity that humanizes the outcast men, blurring the film’s line between right and wrong.
And Laura Linney strikes a beautiful balance between stoicism and vulnerability, playing wife Claire Kane with an undeniable poise.
The eloquent performance of the film’s ensemble cast is enhanced by Lawrence’s organic technique. “Jindabyne” is shot entirely with natural lighting, part of an effort to “cut down on the paraphernalia that goes with making a film,” Lawrence said in a press release.
The cinematography is subtle, almost voyeuristic ““ the camera peers over shoulders and hides behind trees, occasionally nestling itself amid grassy fields, as if hiding from the actors. The result is a ruggedly instinctive interaction between actors that truly connects with the audience.
However, when racial and gender tensions overlay the central moral conflict, Lawrence and screenwriter Beatrix Christian bite off more than they can chew. Claire attributes her husband’s neglect to sexism, and the dead girl’s family accuses Stewart of racism ““ yet, as a film, “Jindabyne” never follows through with these claims.
Ultimately, the somber, reflective film is marred by its kitschy ending, a sequence in which a fly buzzes around the interior of a vehicle and is slapped by the driver. Although arguably symbolic, to end “Jindabyne” with a pithy slap of a hand is akin to ending a eulogy with a knock-knock joke.
But despite its somewhat feeble conclusion, “Jindabyne” is well-executed; it demands much from its viewers, but is ultimately rewarding.