Cuaron has created a masterpiece: brilliant and devastating

Rating: 10/10 (24 March 2007)

Do you remember when a new Kubrick film came out, and it turned out to be "Dr. Strangelove" or "A Clockwork Orange?" When Altman was at his height in the 70's (or any one of a number of the finest directors from that time)?
This film is one for the record books with all of its creators at the top of their game (and Lubezki certainly deserved the Oscar; he could be the Almendros of his generation). It propels the viewer right into the story (leaving clueless critics lamenting the "glossing over of many of the specifics" as they remain grotesquely obtuse to the clarity of the film's situation and the value of mystery and pace in a good story), but dwells on quiet and poignant angles and moments to reach into the deepest reservoirs of storytelling about our times.
Just take one scene: the protagonist Theo (Clive Owen), fleeing the revolutionaries who had been his accomplices, works at finding a pair of shoes in the home of his friend Jasper (Michael Caine) and then happens upon a conversation between his fellow travelers and Jasper. He stays hidden on the other side of the room, and Alfonso Cuaron uses the entire space of the screen to tell Theo's story and his solitude; the lighting and mise en scène of the camera are nothing short of brilliant. The ensuing reels of film are among the most compelling and wrenching that I've ever witnessed; both my wife and I were brought to tears by the intensity of this film, and this almost never happens these days.
So we flip in the DVD: oh, yeah, another movie. Whoop-de-doo. Oh, that performance sucks, he's just so, just so, uh, ...
Can movies retain their importance, just as with any artistic medium of consequence? Can we be enveloped by their worlds, their messages, their moving tales and artistry?
I hope so.