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All is Lost Movie Review

Posted by David D'Angelo | 2/07/2014 03:56:00 PM | , | 0 comments »
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I was invited to the advance screening of "All is Lost" starring Robert Redford at the new Director's Cinema at the SM Fashion Mall but since I was unable to come I asked my friend to watch the movie and do his movie review.

Here is All Is Lost Movie Review from Dee Jocson..

Director: JC Chandor
Cast: Robert Redford

At 77 — an age when most film stars get coddled in comedies or step away from the camera altogether Robert Redford is the opposite of doddery or sentimental. His instincts are as wily as ever, his stamina remarkable. He speaks barely a handful of lines in All Is Lost, but the Film still manages to feel like an internal monologue, a conversation between one man and himself. What’s on the agenda is entirely practical: how am I going to keep this boat afloat? And who will ever find me?

Redford’s predicament is as old as man and the sea. Some 1,700 miles from the Sumatra Straits, he wakes up alone on his 39-foot yacht to find that the hull has been perforated by a stray shipping container. His communication equipment is wrecked in the flood, and he has to bodge a repair out of what’s at hand, while the elements are not so much smiling down upon him as kicking him in the face.
The scenario’s so surgically pared down as to make this season’s other ordeal pictures look profligate and a little chintzy. Does Redford have a teary backstory about a dead infant, à la Sandra Bullock in Gravity?

Does he heck. The director, JC Chandor, knows the temptation to wax maudlin, but he’s written a main character who refuses to do any such thing, opening an instrument someone gifted to him, he pauses for a second or two before choosing not to read the card inside.



His yacht is called the Virginia Jean. Redford is never named, or at least not until the credits, where a touch of Hemingway-esque pretension intrudes: we find him addressed as “Our Man”. It’s hardly necessary to underline, in this almost Biblical way, how his struggle could Stand For Us All. The film’s strong suit is specifics, and Redford’s acting is nothing if not sure and detailed in its calibrations, he’s no one’s idea of a blank slate. When he attempts to sip his spoiled water reserves out of a carton, and grimaces at the tang, you can almost taste the exact flavour of Indian Ocean briny.


Chandor made the bank-collapse thriller Margin Call, an exercise as blabbermouthed as this one’s tight-lipped. Speaking is kept to an absolute minimum, give or take some brief narration at the start, and the explosive outpouring of a single F-word, as despairing an utterance as anything Lear cooked up on the heath. The emotional release of that moment is unavoidably funny, but also cements Redford’s bond with the audience, one he’s spent not just the last few reels building, but, in effect, the last five decades.


There’s also a comical coincidence, at least if you’ve seen Tom Hanks battling the Somali pirates in Captain Phillips. With everything already going drastically wrong, one of those Maersk container ships, I instantly imagined it to be the same one, appears in the middle distance. Naturally, Redford’s attempts to flag it down go unheeded. He assumes the fates are against him, but if he thought his week at sea could hardly get any worse, that’s one ride that might be better off dodged.

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