Guy Maddin’s latest film is another avant garde piece, a pseudo-silent film that employs striking imagery, dubbed sound effects, intertitles and spoken narration in the creation of a unique and fascinating experience. Brand Upon the Brain! is a strange film that seems to exist in no particular era or idiom. It is both timeless and out of time, a film and a story that seemingly could have occurred anytime and anyplace, yet in no particular time or place that ever existed.
Maddin uses some of the effects of the silent era, but filters them through memory, through the ravages of time. While films of the silent era were generally of excellent photographic quality, easily on a par with much of today’s imagery, they have been most often seen by succeeding generations only in degraded, shabby prints, with soft images, blurry text, and unseemly jumps where frames have been misplaced or simply disintegrated. Maddin takes this approach to his film, deliberately infusing his images with a shadowy, high-contrast glow and jump cuts that suggest the movie was found in a long-forgotten vault rather than produced in modern times. The effect is that Brand Upon the Brain! harkens back not so much to the golden-era silents of the 1920s but to the German Expressionist films of the late 1910s, such as Nosferatu and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.
Even the intertitles and chapter headings flash quickly in blurry letters, and repeat themselves as though the negative fell in pieces to the cutting room floor and was hastily stitched back together by an errant hand.
The story starts simply and progresses to absurdity, embracing the melodramatic aesthetic of the German Expressionist classics, yet with a decidedly 21st century attitude. The protagonist, Guy Maddin (played in his youth by Sullivan Brown and in adulthood by Erik Steffen Maahs), returns to his childhood home, an orphanage run by his parents on a remote, fog-shrouded island. He is there to grant his mother’s last wish, that he return to the island and give the lighthouse and orphanage a couple of fresh coats of paint. The walls are dirty and scarred with the troubled memories of his youth, and no amount of paint can cover the pain of those remembrances as they come flooding back in a mad rush. And thus begins a strange tale told in flashback of Maddin and his sister (San Francisco native Maya Lawson) and their mad, mad parents.
The film is not a true silent. There are plenty of sound effects, which grant the proceedings an eerie and evocative atmosphere. The sounds are stylized however, not realistic; they are isolated sounds that suggest the dream-like reveries of memory, in which only the most necessary sounds are supplied while ambient noise recedes and disappears. An excellent score by Jason Staczek brings a strong atmosphere to the film as well, lending it a classical air.
But most effective of all the elements Maddin throws into this eclectic mix may very be the spoken narration provided by Isabella Rossellini, in which the actress sometimes repeats the intertitles but more often complements the onscreen words with fuller description, emphasis and affect. This technique comes from another quadrant of silent film history, from a Japanese tradition in which an actor, known as a benshi, would accompany the film with live narration and dialogue, acting out the roles of each character on the screen and relating the action to the audience.
Taken together, these disparate ingredients form a highly original whole, one that deserves a far greater audience than it is likely to reach.
Brand Upon the Brain! Directed by Guy Maddin. Photographed by Benjamin Kasulke. Edited by John Gurdebeke. Starring Erik Steffen Maahs, Sullivan Brown, Maya Lawson, Gretchen Krich, Katherine E. Scharhon, Andrew Loviska. 96 minutes. Not rated.
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