Nicolas Winding Refn
Solo Dio Perdona

Nicolas Winding Refn, an independent Danish director who remained a reference point for a few enthusiasts until the release of "Drive" in 2011 with Ryan Gosling as the lead, a hypnotic, fitting, compelling, and unmissable movie, a magnificent film that definitively launched the director's name, who at 43 already has a great deal of excellent films to his credit.

After the enormous success of "Drive" and after many cinephiles sided with Refn, everyone was expecting some sort of sequel to "Drive," or at least an ironic representation of reality as had been done in Bronson. Refn tells everyone to go to hell and does something completely different: "Only God Forgives", destroyed by critics, this piece of art marks a point of arrival for Refn and in my opinion his definitive masterpiece, a way of making films that is determined, confident, that goes all the way with its ideas, that never makes mistakes and gets straight to the point. Something perfect, a way of making films never seen before. A way of making films we are no longer used to, we who are the people of "Cinema to have a couple of laughs with friends and off we go."

A masterpiece, and don't get me wrong, by saying that Refn told everyone to go to hell I wasn't referring to a change in style, on the contrary, in this film there's all of Refn: there is the extreme finesse with the camera alternating static moments with great camera moves, there is violence used as a means to create true works of art made into a cinematic sequence, there are various touches of irony, there is a sharp critique of today's society and an innate wish to drive the average viewer crazy by throwing them off track. There are the neon lights, the primary colors splashed over the whole picture and the sharp, detached shots that at the same time draw you into the film like under hypnosis: this film is Refn at his best.

Silence, lots of silence, the first dialogue shouldn't come before ten minutes into the film, two words and off it goes again, with looks, tracking shots, morbid interiors, and jaunts through the illuminated exteriors of Bangkok; the photography in this film is exceptional, one of the best I've ever seen in a film, the streets of this dream-like, almost magical city, we could say, are captured perfectly and give us a vivid sense of reality and terror that grips every street corner, as well as a sense of fatality that permeates the whole film: a fatality that goes hand in hand with the multitude of possible interpretations and various meanings that this practically silent spectacle presents. In this film, the violence is explosive: scenes where men beat the hell out of each other with katanas, pins, or bare hands, the bare hands that in this film Refn shoots with great morbidity, he himself declared in an interview "The idea for the film came to me imagining a man clenching his fists. Inside these fists is contained man's destructive violence, if a man's hands were cut off he would be a harmless animal, his primordial instincts would no longer have any outlet." It is done, this film is a fresco of violence, of repressed anger, of the protagonist's need for love, a Ryan Gosling who says yes and no two words in the film and manages to say everything only with his eyes, observing reality almost from behind a glass, prey to nightmares that seem to come from a David Lynch film and flaunting a love for a girl he doesn't even dare touch, except in moments of rage.

And then there's the love for the mother, a stepmother, a witch, a cynical person who doesn't care about the conditions of others, a machine that only thinks about money: the embodiment of the West, an arrival that upsets the religious spirituality of Bangkok, a place where violence is never an end in itself, where it is used by people only as a response to equally serious violence; and the insults hurled by the cruel Scott Thomas at complete strangers are the embodiment of our ignorance, of our being so "evolved". And finally, there's him, the God of the film mentioned in the title: what would be the villain of the film... if it were a common film coming out of an assembly line; he's the Thai above all, he's the spiritual presence of the film who watches everyone from above: like an avenger, he responds to violence with equal fervor and harshness, but he does it following honor and hierarchy, he's the head of everything, he's the essence of the film, the fate that rules over all of us, this sense of impossibility of change that pervades every scene, this shipwreck that seems inevitable, this succession of looks, of unspoken feelings, and outbursts of violence, of scenes destined to become cult, shootouts, clashes, and many, many moments to enjoy what cinema should be: the art of capturing life and sending a message to the viewer. Refn succeeded, and wanting probably to send only one message he managed to get a multitude across, in a film meticulous in every aspect and unmistakable with any film done so far. A masterpiece; Sunday viewers abstain, the reaction would be that of the audience in the room where I was: "What a crap this film is, I told you, we should have seen The Hangover Part III!" - "No, what are you saying, Fast & Furious 6!" - "Hey, when does Iron Man 4 come out?"

But rather... Refn, we trust in you and your future projects. You are great. Thank you for your great cinema, on behalf of all of us who are passionate about real films made with the brain and not with the hand on the calculator and the finger ready to censor. Cinema without half-measures, pure cinema, a film that goes all the way, a film that keeps you glued to your seat, pure art, a masterpiece with a capital M!