I can hardly say that I've seen all of Andrzej Zulawski's films, but I think even with a sample size of one it's safe to say the man's oeuvre represents the cinematic equivalent of Expert Mode in videogames. The likes of 'L'important c'est d'aimer' and 'Possession' are rich and sumptuous, bountiful feasts of both plot that's readily discernible and enticing, and artistic flourishes that are flummoxing, let alone exceptional performances and film-making. But if his other works are Expert Mode, where does that leave us with this, the filmmaker's last picture before his death, that seems to take the most far-flung and outrageous proclivities of his storytelling style to new extremes? To be perfectly honest, 'Cosmos' is simply beyond me. There's no doubt in my mind that this wonderfully well made, bearing acting, direction, editing, cinematography, and otherwise craftsmanship that are intense as they present, and seemingly precisely calculated. Everyone involved is to be commended for what they gave of themselves for this production. As to the writing? Well, I congratulate those viewers who are able to in any fashion pick up on what Zulawski was doing here.
To be clear, I don't know how much of 'Cosmos' as we see it purely reflects Witold Gombrowicz's novel, and how much stems from Zulawski's adapted screenplay. This, and the vague detection of some form of narrative, are the only facets of the writing about which I can claim any certainty. Terry Gilliam, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, and Alejandro Jodorowsky combined could not conjure characters, dialogue, or scene writing more weird, wild, exaggerated, cartoonish, disparate, and downright inscrutable. Amidst it all I see glimmers of something grander, the faint shadow of whatever vision that was intended for this tableau. Such wisps are outnumbered and overwhelmed on all sides by the towering babel that the movie otherwise represents, a perplexing assemblage of bizarrerie that's strung together like a surrealist daisy chain. Well and truly, I just don't know what to make of any of it.
It's well done, whatever "it" is. One can appreciate art without wholly grasping it. On the other hand, it would be appreciated far more if it weren't 100%, consciously impenetrable. Emphasizing the point, I can't tell if the line "He never knew how to finish his novels, nor their meaning" is a plainspoken admission, or a joking tease. Once more, I offer my sincere, wholehearted congratulations to viewers who watch 'Cosmos' and genuinely See it, and Understand. I'm mystified, and admiration of the fundamental labor that went into it only gets one so far.
To be clear, I don't know how much of 'Cosmos' as we see it purely reflects Witold Gombrowicz's novel, and how much stems from Zulawski's adapted screenplay. This, and the vague detection of some form of narrative, are the only facets of the writing about which I can claim any certainty. Terry Gilliam, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, and Alejandro Jodorowsky combined could not conjure characters, dialogue, or scene writing more weird, wild, exaggerated, cartoonish, disparate, and downright inscrutable. Amidst it all I see glimmers of something grander, the faint shadow of whatever vision that was intended for this tableau. Such wisps are outnumbered and overwhelmed on all sides by the towering babel that the movie otherwise represents, a perplexing assemblage of bizarrerie that's strung together like a surrealist daisy chain. Well and truly, I just don't know what to make of any of it.
It's well done, whatever "it" is. One can appreciate art without wholly grasping it. On the other hand, it would be appreciated far more if it weren't 100%, consciously impenetrable. Emphasizing the point, I can't tell if the line "He never knew how to finish his novels, nor their meaning" is a plainspoken admission, or a joking tease. Once more, I offer my sincere, wholehearted congratulations to viewers who watch 'Cosmos' and genuinely See it, and Understand. I'm mystified, and admiration of the fundamental labor that went into it only gets one so far.