“There’s an awkwardness there – it’s pure, you can’t fake it,” says photographer Dennis Stock of the young star on the rise, James Dean.
It’s a peculiar line to leave in a film that attempts to do precisely that, seeking to capture the reality of the notoriously inscrutable public figure, outside of the aura he carries on screen. It can’t be said that Life is wholly successful on that front, but its strength lies in the aura it generates all of its own.
Stock (Robert Pattinson), a photographer for Life Magazine, is assigned to lens a young actor, Dean (Dane DeHaan), making waves on the eve of his debut feature, East Of Eden. The two form an uneasy friendship as they get each other’s measure, both struggling to come to terms with where their lives have led them.
The instincts of screenwriter Luke Davies have led him to a fine angle on the story, exploring the balance of power between photographer and subject. While the film is very low-key, Charlotte Bruus Christensen lenses it with grace and subtlety, and the performances as guided by director Anton Corbijn are tender.
DeHaan’s performance as the legendary Dean is an unusual one – perhaps accurate, perhaps not, as his soft, lilting voice does lend a surreality to the film that feels out of place. Nevertheless, he blends into the Bohemian setting, looking quite the part, if a little too baby-faced.
It’s matched by Pattinson, who (ever shaking off the taint of the Twilight saga) proves once again his versatility and restraint in crafting the dislikable Stock. Both operate in a realm of uncomfortable masculinity that is rarely seen and very engaging, but let down by an uninspiring script.
The plot construction feels inconclusive, lacking in a lasting purpose; it’s been described as ‘arthouse’ despite having no sense of aspiration to it. But there is something to this film – a sensation that it leaves in the viewer, a melancholy that can’t be attributed simply to Dean’s fate. There’s something to the cold colour palette; the sense that everyone in this world is tired and strained; the constant sense of yearning for something lost or never found.
This may be core to why such an esoteric title is applicable, because this hard-to-describe sensation is so much more affecting than the film’s key message. ‘Live your life like there’s no time left’ is not exactly groundbreaking.
Though it is a film of simple means, and weakened by too much affect, Life has an intangible value, just the same as its subject.
3/5 stars
Life opens in cinemas on Thursday September 10.
