Amateur filmmaking and film school projects are usually the traditional vehicles for experimental cinema. An exercise in breaking the standard Hollywood formula of storytelling, experimentalism is a good thing. It not only allows filmmakers the chance to break out of the usual mold, but also to attain, train and then express their own artistic voice.
While such films often don't make any sense except to those directly involved in their production, the good thing about them is that they're usually only seen by their creators, classmates, instructors and friends or family.
From that point on and after having found their "voice," such filmmakers either succumb to the financial incentive of making films the Hollywood way or manage to stick to their guns and stay independent, telling their stories in their own unique fashion. Others, of course, simply quit and take up other professions.
Whatever their course of subsequent action, most usually give up any ideas of further dabbling in experimental cinema. That's not apparently true, however, for writer/director Mike Figgis. Best known for his critically acclaimed film, "Leaving Las Vegas," Figgis has long wished to film an unconventional idea of his where he'd offer viewers an essentially plot-less movie filled with seemingly incongruous scenes and images.
That would then leave it up to the viewer to fit those pieces together however they liked to make their own picture, a sort of salad bar approach to movie making. Up until now, and for various, but completely understandable reasons, however, the idea remained unfilmed for nearly two decades.
Unfortunately he didn't heed those reasons, and the resulting picture, "The Loss of Sexual Innocence" is one that should have remained unmade or, at best, left in the classroom or perhaps stuck on the family video shelf.
A hodgepodge of scenes and concepts so disjointed, occasionally confusing and generally odd that not even the strongest of hallucinogens -- let alone days or weeks back in the editing booth -- could instill meaning on this mess, this film is the epitome of experimental cinema (at its worst or perhaps best depending on how you view such matters).
While I'm sure the film will have some supporters -- the kind who like things not particularly because they're good, but simply due to their unconventional and/or unusual nature -- it clearly won't entertain or make sense to the everyday moviegoer or, for that matter, film critic.
The film does feature some striking visuals courtesy of cinematographer Benoit Delhomme ("The Winslow Boy," "Artemisia"), particularly involving the Adam & Eve scenes and the lake from which they literally emerge. The often used rippled reflections on it nicely symbolize the obvious trouble and "bigger waves" looming ahead.
The film is also moderately interesting for the first thirty minutes or so as one tries to figure out exactly what's occurring. However, like a jigsaw puzzle that never ultimately fits together into an agreeable, let alone understandable picture, the end result of experiencing this film is akin to never solving the puzzle and thus being subjected to simply being forced to watch the jumbled box of said pieces.
To make matters worse, beyond not having any idea of what's happening as scenes randomly come and go, the characters are just as nebulous. Sketchily drawn at best, we never know much of anything about them -- nor get the chance to -- and consequently don't care about them or their stories. They're just another piece of the puzzle that never gets solved. As such, the performances, while consequently and somewhat appropriately mysterious -- but really only by default -- neither draw us into the story nor the characters.
Julian Sands ("Boxing Helena," "Warlock") plays the lead character in a role that seemingly would have gone to the likes of Jeremy Irons had the film been more conventional or had a bigger budget. With little dialogue and essentially no story with which to work, Sands plays the role as seriously as possible, but simply seems lost within the labyrinth of disjointed scenes.
The same holds true for Saffron Burrows ("In the Name of the Father," the upcoming "Deep Blue Sea") who plays a set of mysterious twins. Despite the dual character role and thus twice the screen time, she ends up being more of a visual element than a real and/or identifiable character.
While Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and Kelly MacDonald at least get to play some briefly interesting characters (in a somewhat steamy teen make-out scene), Stefano Dionisi's audio man character is considerably less developed, and newcomers Femi Ogumbanjo and Hanne Klintoe are visually striking, but otherwise don't do much beyond sauntering around buck naked or peeing in front of each other.
Some interest is revived late in the proceedings when a trip through the desert turns volatile and is paralleled with Adam & Eve's outing from "paradise." Although nearly any scene that's accompanied by Beethoven's powerful "Ode to Joy" will automatically seem more vibrant and intriguing, Figgis finally gives the audience something that's exciting. Unfortunately, it occurs far too late in the film to save it from its otherwise unsuccessful, experimental nature.
It's not completely impossible to understand what Figgis is ultimately trying to do with this picture, and some may applaud his bravado for marching to his own drummer and presenting it in a style that few would argue is anything short of unique. The end result, however, is a disjointed mess that constantly holds the audience at arms length and comes off as frustrating and/or boring instead of compelling or inspirational. Like a failed science experiment, this one's blown up in his face. As such, we give "The Loss of Sexual Innocence" a 2 out of 10.