Directed by: Darren Aronofsky
Starring: Russell Crowe, Jennifer Connelly, Logan Lerman, Emma Watson
Rated PG-13, 138 minutes
The danger of adapting a biblical episode into a film, before even considering the various devotees who plan on taking offense at whatever that adaptation entails, is that everyone has a different perception of that tale. The story of Noah’s ark is so ubiquitous that each of us has some impression of what that story looks like and means. For my part, it’s a story about cleansing the earth; for all intents and purposes, the story is over once Noah is aboard the ark. This isn’t the case for Darren Aronofsky, who sees the story as a much weightier tale of survivor’s guilt. Even if you see it the same way he does, though, his take on the tale might leave you wanting something more.
We all know the story, of course, but Aronofsky’s (“Black Swan”) version contains a great deal of detail that normally gets skimmed over when we talk about Noah. In addition to bearing the burden of saving the animal kingdom from the great flood, Noah (Russell Crowe, “Gladiator”) must protect the animals and his family from the evil descendants of Cain that still roam the earth. And while they stave off the sinners and build the ark, they must cope with being the last men on earth. Noah and Naameh’s (Jennifer Connelly, “A Beautiful Mind”) middle son, Ham (Logan Lerman, “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”), is bitter about Noah’s refusal to allow women on the ark, which would let the human race carry on after the flood. Ham’s bitterness turns into a rather predictable betrayal that threatens the entire family.
Then there is the subplot of Noah’s adopted daughter, Ila (Emma Watson, “Harry Potter”), a barren woman who wants to bear children for Noah’s oldest son. But Noah considers their task to be one of saving animals, not men; humans, he says, are sinful blemishes upon God’s earth. He’s sure that the human race isn’t meant to carry on after the flood, so he considers Ila’s barrenness lucky. But a miracle later on tests Noah’s beliefs and his devotion to his divine task.
While the plot centers around Noah’s interpretation of his task, the real centerpieces of the movie are interludes and stories that take us out of the present moment and into the legendary past. Perhaps most notable is Aronofsky’s exhilarating take on the story of creation, which isn’t revolutionary thematically but is incredible to watch. In it and in other sections of the film, he uses a strange aesthetic that’s somewhere between stop-motion animation and elementary school dioramas. In these moments, the story of Noah takes a backseat to a declaration of the beauty of the earth, as expressed through visuals and sounds that pull us in immaculately.
It’s disappointing, then, that Aronofsky falls back on the human element so much. He stretches an already sparse story into nearly two and a half hours, making us follow a family melodrama that is less interesting than the world it’s in. Especially given how obvious some of the subplot conclusions are, waiting for them to play out can be tedious. They can also get bogged down by performances that are blandly emphatic, performances that trade in vocal inflections for pseudo-British “ancient world” accents. It’s not painful to watch, but you probably don’t need to pay attention.
More than anything, “Noah” feels like a missed opportunity. With arresting visuals and writing that avoids many standard clichés that make many epic movies mockeries of themselves, Aronofsky’s film could have been timeless. Instead, it feels generic. The story of Noah could be used to spread a moral about virtually anything, but Aronofsky has decided to use it as a character study that, when all is said and done, ends up remarkably similar to Christian Bale’s Bruce Wayne. The difference is that the Batman movies have intricate plotting and intriguing payoffs. “Noah” is lacking in both. I can accept that Aronofsky wanted to explore a character that historically has been left unexamined. It just seems that his storytelling talents and inclinations lie elsewhere.
Originally published in The Harvard Press on 4/4/14.