The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button

A rare cinematic art that never romanticizes his protagonist and instead he does, Brad does, with his performance.

David Fincher is a controversial director in my house. Sophisticatedly picant in his language, his direction matches Steven Soderberg’s capability of three dimensional perspective. And if looked upon, their careers have been similar. They both are known for the direction and not the writing. But David is ahead in popularity. He has captured some catchy stories including mystery novels and even biographies about arguably the most famous face of 21st century. And this is where I trail off. I haven’t always been so giddy up about the material he gets on his table. His direction exceeds the script he gets.

And among few times when he has been blessed with an awe inspiring content, this would be the Holy Grail. This old style filmmaking that Fincher turns towards is a delightful gift to his fans. There is an unprecedented calmness in this film that makes the audience present in that frame. For three hours you are told to sit beside a death bed in a hospital room and you have never been honored like such in a Fincher set. A major character is of course Eric Roth’s signature element, innocence in the film.

A film that provides every possible database to be found in this long weekend that we call “life”, it never puts any vice in these characters. Even the bad ones. The ones holding their promises to the other side of the door. And as far as the protagonist, Brad Pitt, Benjamin Button, is concerned, he is written like a wise old soul. The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button, to me, was exactly that, as in what made them decide to write him as a mature personality affecting these many lives around him, the writers explains it by claiming him the most experienced or oddly experienced.

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