Phil Burbank is a methodical and ruthless genius. His tongue cuts deep into anyone unlucky enough to cross his path. His words are chosen carefully yet effortlessly, built to dismantle and subdue those who would have the smallest chance of standing in his way. He is as smart as he is disgusting. And, he is Benedict Cumberbatch's best performance of his career.
Taking the lead role of the charismatic rancher confirms the actor's sarcastic wit is not specific only to his recurring Dr. Strange in the MCU, but rather is part of his own talent. This sarcasm might as well become his shtick, having the potential to grow unless he does a Nicholas Cage and binge-picks everything thrown at him.
But let's not get derailed.
"The Power of the Dog" could only be directed by a woman. Its perfect pace could only be designed by a feminine touch. Jane Campion unravels two hours of sustained tension which go on subdued for as long as possible. This is a patient movie, one which treats its characters with respect and gives a lot of time to their thoughts to manifest not necessarily into words, but more into actions.
This drama contains many revelations among its ensemble cast which complement each other in flawless fashion. Take the two brothers, Phil and George Burbank (Jesse Plemons), the former a well-educated but now high-society despising rugged cowhand of the land, and the latter a more feminist white collar gentleman marrying a weeping widow which Phil hates and brings her to the brink of self-destruction and step-fathering her emasculated, shy son which is perfect cannon fodder for Phil--you slowly get the picture which is just brimming with conflict and spectacular drama.
This is where the movie shines, though. It has the rare ability of resisting operatic drama, keeping its emotions and animosities subdued, yet still keeping them blunt. It's a testament to the focused skill of its director/writer who repays attentive viewing constantly, especially at the end.
Speaking of attentive viewing, it's nowhere near the level of Nolan's intimidating contraptions or David Lynch's trolling in the likes of "Mulholland Dr." This simply demands that the viewer stays put as it eventually wraps itself around to its opening line almost too good to be true: "When my father passed, I wanted nothing more than my mother's happiness. For what kind of man would I be if I did not help my mother? If I did not save her?"
The ambiguous line is made completely clear by the end. I never thought something as abstract as balance could be so satisfying.
Taking the lead role of the charismatic rancher confirms the actor's sarcastic wit is not specific only to his recurring Dr. Strange in the MCU, but rather is part of his own talent. This sarcasm might as well become his shtick, having the potential to grow unless he does a Nicholas Cage and binge-picks everything thrown at him.
But let's not get derailed.
"The Power of the Dog" could only be directed by a woman. Its perfect pace could only be designed by a feminine touch. Jane Campion unravels two hours of sustained tension which go on subdued for as long as possible. This is a patient movie, one which treats its characters with respect and gives a lot of time to their thoughts to manifest not necessarily into words, but more into actions.
This drama contains many revelations among its ensemble cast which complement each other in flawless fashion. Take the two brothers, Phil and George Burbank (Jesse Plemons), the former a well-educated but now high-society despising rugged cowhand of the land, and the latter a more feminist white collar gentleman marrying a weeping widow which Phil hates and brings her to the brink of self-destruction and step-fathering her emasculated, shy son which is perfect cannon fodder for Phil--you slowly get the picture which is just brimming with conflict and spectacular drama.
This is where the movie shines, though. It has the rare ability of resisting operatic drama, keeping its emotions and animosities subdued, yet still keeping them blunt. It's a testament to the focused skill of its director/writer who repays attentive viewing constantly, especially at the end.
Speaking of attentive viewing, it's nowhere near the level of Nolan's intimidating contraptions or David Lynch's trolling in the likes of "Mulholland Dr." This simply demands that the viewer stays put as it eventually wraps itself around to its opening line almost too good to be true: "When my father passed, I wanted nothing more than my mother's happiness. For what kind of man would I be if I did not help my mother? If I did not save her?"
The ambiguous line is made completely clear by the end. I never thought something as abstract as balance could be so satisfying.