ON DVD

Resurrection theme in Romero, Coppola DVDs

Masters attempt comebacks with two not-quite-successful films.

By John DeFore
SPECIAL TO AMERICAN-STATESMAN
Friday, May 16, 2008

This month sees the DVD release of ambitious comeback efforts by two hugely influential directors who emerged in the late 1960s. Neither movie is quite successful, but their very existence is of interest for those of us who hate to see brilliant careers cut short, as is the fact that both films, theatrically released here at the same time a few months back, feature resurrection not only as subtext but as a plot device.

Granted, one of these auteurs has rarely tackled any other subject: George A. Romero, whose "Night of the Living Dead" spawned the modern zombie film, now gives us "Diary of the Dead." (Coinciding with next week's "Diary" release, "Night" will get its umpteenth DVD reissue as well.) Though it isn't his first recent outing — Romero reanimated his zombie series in 2005's "Land of the Dead" — it brings an unprecedented level of self-consciousness to the Romero brand, wearing its meta-commentary ambitions on its tattered, blood-spattered sleeve.

"Diary" uses the same conceit as "Cloverfield," putting video cameras in the hands of protagonists to tell a standard-issue genre story through their eyes. Sadly, "Diary" shares some of "Cloverfield"'s faults: Neither movie has a single likeable character, and both, in order to capture the action, require viewers to believe those characters would keep the cameras rolling when any real person would drop them and run like mad.

But Romero, at least, hopes to tease out actual cultural critique from that conceit. Though he beats the point over the head without offering a fresh perspective, he wants the audience to ponder the nature of our increasingly mediated world, in which nothing really exists unless it has been photographed, and in which a proliferation of available perspectives (everyone here is sharing videos online) may simply offer more opportunities for disinformation.

Francis Ford Coppola, unlike Romero, actually seemed to have retired from filmmaking before the release of "Youth Without Youth." His only other outings in the 15 years prior had been a Robin Williams schlocker ("Jack"), and a John Grisham work-for-hire ("The Rainmaker").

The self-financed "Youth" was, as Coppola openly acknowledged, an attempt to return to personal, creatively engaged moviemaking, and its ambitions were reflected in its premise: An aged professor, played by Tim Roth, is struck by lightning; he nearly dies, only to see his body mysteriously regenerate, making him look like a man in his 30s.

Where the movie goes from there, though, is hard for even a generous viewer to say. Adapted from a Romanian novel, "Youth" meanders through confusing romantic subplots, over-technical philosophical concerns and self-examination that borders on the laughably pretentious. Fans of the director will surely sympathize with his desire to make a movie that's actually about something, but may find themselves wanting to remind him of the obvious: At his peak, he didn't need hyper-intellectualized literary sources to make resonant art — he crafted personal, thought-provoking work out of plots (spy yarns, gangster melodrama, war epics) that others would have approached as pure genre material.

(Incidentally, a new memoir by Coppola's wife, Eleanor, "Notes on a Life," is largely drawn from those years the director spent away from the camera. The book isn't as revealing as readers may hope, though, offering more insight into family dynamics and everyday household details than career choices.)

If neither movie really satisfies on its intended level, both do have virtues. Even as it baffles, "Youth" boasts a visual lushness that Coppola's recent Hollywood gigs lacked; "Diary," though no scare-fest, offers occasional glimmers of macabre or self-referential humor and a handful of computer-age updates on old-school gore.

More importantly, both movies provide cause for optimism regarding their makers' careers. It isn't every day you see a nearly 70-year-old artist push himself out of his comfort zone and search for new meaning. Here's hoping both whippersnappers keep hunting for years to come.