Ravens is written and directed by Mark Gill. The movie is so confident and stylish that it is amazing to learn it is only the director’s second feature-length title. Gill is a natural filmmaker, and if his future projects are even as half as good as this darkly fantastical biography, then he will only ever make motion pictures that astound. But before diving into why this is so good, let’s establish context via a plot synopsis.
Masahisa Fukase (Tadanobu Asano) is a photographer, having learned the craft from his distant and hard father. His father, Sukezõ Fukase (Kanji Furutachi), is so stern that he rejects his son’s acceptance into a prestigious art university. But that night, a humanoid raven (Jose Luis Ferrer) appears to the lad and pushes him to seek the bliss of true art. This sets Masahisa off on a whirlwind and acclaimed career, with his beautiful wife, Yoko (Kumi Takiuchi), serving as his muse.
Unfortunately, innate talent and drive are not always enough to get ahead. The marketing team for a vacuum doesn’t appreciate Masahisa straying from the prescribed script. At an exhibition in New York City, the press and artists are more interested in the subject, Yoko, than the artist, Masahisa. Throughout all this, the English-speaking raven continues to appear, pushing the photographer to even greater heights of originality and beauty, but at what cost?
“… a humanoid raven appears to the lad and pushes him to seek the bliss of true art.”
Ravens is a masterpiece from start to finish, never once lagging or becoming dull for even a second. The movie starts with a quote about ravens from Masahisa himself. Then Ferrer, in full suit and makeup, is in a darkened corner looking at a photo of the artist. This then transforms to Masahisa sitting in the same position and part of the screen as audiences are introduced to the protagonist. It’s visual, intriguing, and beautiful. Gill only makes things better from here. A party sequence wherein the raven is discussing the true bliss of artistry is kinetic, frenzied, and pure spectacle while delivering some crucial plot and character beats.
Asano is perfectly cast as the “tortured artist.” He’s likable yet short-tempered, and the passion that drives him is never in question. Takiuchi is elegant and sweet, bringing patience and empathy to her character. Ferrer is as astonishing as the raven. He puts his whole body into the performance, continually being menacing yet beguiling. Furutachi plays the expected stern father role with conviction.
Paul Lay and Théophile Moussouni’s score adds significantly to the resounding emotions at the forefront of Ravens. When Masahisa gets drunk, the music is looser, and when he’s taking photographs, it is far more epic sounding. However, none of the brilliance on display would have been possible without Fernando Ruiz’s cinematography. The lighting, camera movements, and matching shot compositions create a story that is told and felt through its visuals. The editing, courtesy of Chika Konishi and Frank Moderna, is equally sublime. The story jumps through time seamlessly, never leaving anyone watching confused about how or where in time the narrative is at.
Ravens is perfect. Its characters are well-rounded and interesting. The makeup and costuming for everyone, especially Ferrer as the raven, is nothing short of spectacular. The story is gripping and just as beautiful and haunting as the photographs taken by its subject. Gill is an exceptional filmmaker, and this, his second full-length flick, sets a new gold standard for bio-pics going forward.
For more information on Ravens, visit the K5 International Instagram page.
"…perfect."
