Clint Eastwood
Hereafter

It is the story of A, B, and C.

They live with their problems, three very different existences that nonetheless enjoy stability. A balance supposed to be the offspring of experience and that, no matter how feeble and precarious it might appear, somehow holds up. These are lives that continue straight as lines drawn with a ruler in an architecture studio. But waiting for three parallel lines to miraculously come together isn't very cinematic, so the screenplay introduces unexpected events for our letters. The path becomes nebulous, uncertain: full of curves. Even though A, B, and C are physically distant from each other, they share that destabilizing element that progressively brings them together and eventually makes them meet at a single point. A necessary, solving encounter to find again what they had lost and desperately need. The enormous rulers can descend from the sky and draw three straight lines once more. Presumably until the end of their days, perhaps beyond. End credits.

The subject of the film, as can be inferred from the title, is the post mortem. That enormous question mark that perplexes, has already consumed, or will intrigue each of us in the future. At least for a while.

The first film of his that I saw in the cinema was "Mystic River," and if I were an orderly romantic, instead of a chaotic bastard, I believe I would preserve that ticket. Since then, it has become a pleasant habit to go see each new work of his while seated in a comfortable chair in the dark. And so far, it has always been worth it. This "Hereafter" too stands out for the elegant touch, a bittersweet flavor, of a film of rare drama capable of mixing tedium, loneliness, and fear with sweetness and hope. As much as one can intuit the structure after just a few steps, the way the plot develops is enjoyable.

And if it is true that the core of the film may seem banal, death as the least common denominator of the protagonists leading to their rebirth, it is equally undeniable that Eastwood touches with icy ruthlessness a series of seemingly secondary subjects. The real effects of the economic crisis, the silent and desolating loneliness of young singles, social workers and guardianship of minors, drugs and alcoholism, competition in the job market, the god money, extramarital sentimental relationships, etc. These sore points are touched upon in sequence; if they were strings of an electric guitar, the resulting sound would be a slight, delicate arpeggio, certainly not an heavy metal riff. And that gray caress of notes will accompany you for quite some time, because they are considerations and situations we can well reflect upon.

For all this, the ending, digested a few days later, seems to me double-sided: only apparently completely hopeful and in reality also open to other harsh considerations left hidden, almost like a ghost track at the end of an album. In the sense that if, at the very end, we were simply to close our eyes, it wouldn't be such a bad thing, given the dramatic nature of today's living.

One appreciates the slow rhythm of the scenes, in symbiosis with the precious soundtrack, and the poignant sweetness of different passages that might make a hefty package of tissues advisable, ready at hand for those prone to being moved. Few dialogues, many full and strong silences, and noteworthy performances starting from the young Frankie McLaren to the French beauty Cécile de France and ending with the increasingly robust Matt Damon. The editing of the scenes is, as has now become a pleasing habit, satisfying, and the delicacy and strength of certain scenes is unbreakable. In short, the usual genius of Clint behind the camera for a film to enjoy comfortably, preferably at the cinema.