Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
This review is a part of the Palme d’Or Project: a review of every single Palme d’Or winner at Cannes Film Festival. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives won the fifty fifth Palme d’Or at the 2010 festival.
The film was selected by the following jury.
Jury President: Tim Burton.
Jury: Alberto Barbera, Kate Beckinsale, Emmanuel Carrère, Benicio del Toro, Alexandre Desplat, Victor Erice, Shekhar Kapur, Giovanna Mezzogiorno.
Typically you will find angry, vocal, or heavy films will win the Palme d'Or, but we haven't really covered too many works that have just been sublime. There is a lot that is depressing within Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, but Apichatpong Weerasethakul also finds so much beauty within death. Based heavily on the beliefs of Buddhist Phra Sripariyattiweti, Uncle Boonmee takes the sick eponymous character and makes us live vicariously through the different iterations of his existence, human or not. Time exists partially as we know it, but also in a very disjointed sort of way. These are familiar sensibilities told in a way many of us are not accustom to. It's easy to see why Uncle Boonmee stood out to the Cannes jury, but it's even simpler to take note of how stunning Uncle Boonmee is, especially given its grim circumstances.
The titular Boonmee is dying of kidney failure, and has connected with the spirit world for guidance. The film starts off with a dinner he holds with loved ones, including the ghost of his dead wife, and his long lost son, who has assimilated with some sort of monkey spirit beings; this son is seen as a shadowy figure with piercing red eyes before we are better acquainted with him (and you can assume that any pair of crimson peepers throughout Uncle Boonmee are of the same species). This dinner is to reflect, and the film dedicates its remainder towards doing just that, with Uncle Boonmee – spoiler alert – recalling his past lives. This is where audiences are sure to be tested, with Weerasethakul not holding back the uncompromising images he wishes to use. As out-there as some of these visions may be (including the infamous catfish sequence), there is something magnificent found everywhere
Uncle Boonmee is a particularly transcendent experience that will move even the biggest non-believers.
Uncle Boonmee is always patient and never visceral when it deals with the concept of death. Weerasethakul is framing someone who is finding the final ways to wrap up this present life, not searching for meaning and feeling lost. This is just one entry in someone's permanent history. The film is more of an exercise to see how the reintroduction of the same characters as different beings can work out, and how we can still feel the weight of loss in a film this meditative and hopeful when it comes to death. It's still tough to lose a loved one, no matter what your beliefs are. Weerasethakul still finds a balance between the pain and the celebration of life here without ever over-indulging in either side: you won't feel pure agony, but you're still mourning to some degree.
This cohesion comes from Weerasethakul's signature style: glacial filmmaking to the point of pure cinematic hypnosis. As if he learned from Michaelangelo Antonioni and went even further, Weerasethakul enjoys using the longest static shots to get us immersed in the filmic paintings he carefully sets up. You will be so drawn in that you will even start following dust particles as they float through the open air of these mesmerizing still images. Furthermore, not many filmmakers fully utilize the grain of film like Weerasethakul does nowadays: his shots feel like you can grasp them with your bare hands and feel what he presents (even those solid beams of light that pierce through the windows). This has always been how Weerasethakul makes his films, but here it is especially effective, given the transportation between different lives and realities.
Exploring the different realities and timelines of Uncle Boonmee is a humbling experience of stillness that is an absolute treat to behold.
The sound work is just as glorious, with every single little sound placing us deeper into these worlds. In a sense, it almost feels like we begin to feel like Uncle Boonmee himself, as we stare at our former selves and embrace who we are in that moment (whether we are cinephiles glued to our screens, or spirits silently watching from afar). The limitless storytelling in Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives is such a treat to visit again and again, and Apichatpong Weerasethakul's fluid, soft ways of filmmaking are effortlessly spellbinding. There aren't many gimmicks here that force you to believe in something extraordinary, and yet even naysayers will feel some sort of ascendancy whilst watching Uncle Boonmee. Accept that you'll be watching something unusual, because that is the biggest hurdle. Don't push against Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, and allow yourself to sink into the film. It'll be quite the experience should you allow yourself to be swept away by one of arthouse's more blissful pieces.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.