The film may leave splinters, but damn if they aren’t gorgeous ones.
The new indie drama Woodshock will most definitely not be for everyone, or most anyone for that matter; and that’s perfectly okay. Even the most ardent fans of the film’s leading lady will find it hard to embrace this effort from her, despite it containing a slight, loving homage to one of her most memorable films. The movie has plenty of tropes that would otherwise make for a solid indie fare, including a ready and willing lead, a premise ripe for drama and the kind of faraway setting for everything to take place(in this case, the wilds of Northern California). While the end result of Woodshock is still lacking to say the least, the filmmakers do succeed when it comes to constructing their own reality and making it feel as if it’s all at once both alien and relatable to the audience, while touching on the most human of subject matters.
More moody character piece than anything else, Woodshock centers on Theresa (Kirsten Dunst), a young woman reeling from the death of her mother, which has greatly impacted life with her supportive boyfriend Nick (Joe Cole) and has sent her into a drug-fueled trip into the darkest and most ponderous of mental states.
Directed by first-timers Kate and Laura Mulleavy, Woodshock’s visual style has to be one of the most intricately-detailed of all indies this year. Each frame and composition within every single scene has been so painstakingly and lovingly set up, that not taking the time to appreciate whatever image is on the screen, instills a sort of guilt on the part of the viewer. The Mulleavy’s come from a costume designer background, resulting in a visual eye that makes even the dingy and desolate within the world of Woodshock look artful and mystical. This is especially true in all scenes taking place in the Northern California forest; incredibly glorious surroundings which are only heightened at the sight of the levitating Theresa within it. With an emphasis on the film’s physical mood and atmosphere, Woodshock ends up being a bit too free flowing with regards to character motivations and especially in their exposition, which it eventually sacrifices in favor of its dreamlike universe.
At the heart of Woodshock however is a portrait of a person dealing with grief. When the film isn’t busy trying to explore this through moody, effective lighting and far out camera angles, Woodshock does a halfway decent job of functioning as a quiet character study drawing on influences from films of the 70s. Theresa doesn’t say much throughout the course of Woodshock, and we continuously know so little about her relationship with the outside world thanks to the most minimal of interactions with various people in her life. But it doesn’t matter since this is a film about the exploration of guilt, mourning and their combined effects on the human psyche. If the subject matter alone would be too much for some, the experimental approach and execution its helmers give their film might prove damned near impossible to sit through. At the same time, this may perhaps be Woodshock’s mission; to serve as a technically impressive illustration about the maddening quietness when left with one’s own thoughts after being forced to face something profound.
Making Woodshock work as well as it does is the film’s leading actress. Dunst is so emotionally present and alive in every single scene. The film is essentially a one-woman show, and the actress keeps her audience captivated through it all. Not a lot of actors would have the courage to take such a role on, what with its sparse dialogue and damaged trappings, yet this one does. The way Dunst lets her face do most of the acting is a far from easy feat to accomplish, yet she manages it perfectly, adding another high mark on her continuously wondrous career.
Woodshock will not bring Dunst the kind of acclaim some may no doubt feel she is after. Yet there is a feeling that she knows this and simply doesn’t care. Theresa isn’t mere Oscar bait for the actress, but rather another complex soul for her to go and explore. While accolades will be non-existent, the film certainly serves Dunst well in another way; namely the addition of another advancement on the ladder from child star to one of the great American actresses of her generation. It’s the same mix of adventure and willingness which has allowed Dunst to immerse herself in comedies such as Bachelorette and How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, and heavy dramas including Melancholia and All Good Things (still one of her best.) In Woodshock, as in all those aforementioned instances, Dunst isn’t acting so much as she’s letting the character and the material take her over. Watching the magic that happens as a result, remains both a wonder and a joy.
