Juniper product reviews

The New Zealand film industry is churning out some movies that really tug on the heartstrings; really emotional pieces. Juniper itself is quite a timely film given the recent success of the Euthanasia Referendum in the most recent election and puts forward a kiwi perspective on topics already covered by such films as Blackbird and Supernova. A film that we as a country can fully relate to, that puts coming to terms with death and one's own mortality into terms and framing that we can easily understand.

The characters are rather basic but surprisingly well-written by director-writer Matthew Saville, essentially using stereotypes of the absentee father, the alcoholic grand/mother, and the rebellious youth, to arrange and orchestrate some solid character development through their interactions. Our two main leads Ruth and Sam (played by Charlotte Rampling and George Ferrier) conflict with each other at many points, in this well-coordinated narrative play; this is not an amateur "one person develops at a time" story (which is as believable as a street fight where the villains attack one at a time in single file), instead we have two dynamic development arcs, that move concurrently in two different directions, clashing as their personality traits switch between complementing and punishing each other.

On the surface, this looks like a wholesome film that has two headstrong people learning to get along, but in reality, the content is much deeper. Juniper is an exploration of abandonment, isolation, loss, depression, guilt, mourning, loss, suicide, and Saville isn't pulling his punches; death is both a source of peace and unrest.

A beautifully mirrored pair of interlinked stories that forces you to look beyond face value. Not every person will tell you how they feel. Bias is everywhere, Motivations conflict. And one must be open and receptive to have any chance of maintaining control of life. Saville captures the kiwi spirit brilliantly through Ferrier; the crests and troughs that come with our isolated yet passionate compositions, and our veiled inability to open up and express ourselves without excessive alcohol consumption.

The cinematography is well-executed and suits the atmosphere of the film, using only natural light to add authenticity to the already grounded nature of Juniper. There are many scenes we can't even make out the faces and you can barely see the movements, but all adds to the intrigue and genuine sense of the film. With a lot of slow scenes and awkward (or hostile) interactions, the pacing of the film can be quite lethargic and slow. It allows for a lot of quiet times of contemplation, times to think and come to terms with the events occurring.

The palpable and undeniable honesty of Juniper is what makes it hit hard. Whether it's a mother or a grandparent, we have all lost someone at some point, and the interactions and set designs build such an authentic environment, that the audience will not be able to avoid thinking of their own family members being in this situation. This may trigger. Much like in last year's Bellbird, the sense of loss is inescapable. Beautiful, but suppressed.