'Lloyd Bacon' (qv) in 1930, 'John Huston' (qv) in 1956, or 'Paul Stanley' (qv) in 1978. They are some of the countless filmmakers who brought to the big screen the story of Melville's classic novel. In addition to the countless television series. And of other more free adaptations, of which it could be a good example the recent 'In the Heart of the Sea' by 'Ron Howard' (qv) (2015).
In fact, the obsession, or the mechanisms of how it develops and manifests itself – in Melville's version, the obsession of Ahab, captain of the whaler the Pequod, for revenge on Moby Dick, the white whale that on the previous whaling voyage bit off Ahab's leg at the knee – is a sufficiently passionate and challenging subject for storytellers. But starting from 'Moby Dick' does not seem to be a particularly brilliant idea. This was the dilemma of director 'Levin Garbisch' (qv). Obsessed with Melville's work, he wanted to make a movie about obsession, but he was not finding a solution to escape from 'Moby Dick'.
One day, driving around downtown LA while listening to Mastodon's album 'Leviathan' (also based on 'Moby Dick's story), searching for a place to park, Levin had a crazy idea: what if instead of searching to kill a whale, his Ahab character was just looking for a parking space? It may seem strange, but that's what it's about 'I Shall Never Return', the first feature film of Levin Garbisch. A surreal adaptation of 'Moby Dick', the story of Lake, a young man obsessed with finding the ultimate truth, who is led down a path into the horrifying depths of his own subconscious. With a surreal production budget of 15,000 USD.
The result is not entirely convincing. Still, Levin's boldness has several positive aspects. The ability to tell a story, which in theory had everything to fail; the ability to engage and challenge the viewer in front of the strangeness and apparent inversomility he is watching (until finally, he begins to feel Melville's reminiscences); the ability to translate into a cinematic experience an appeal to the transition between the conscious and the subconscious in search of a reading or of coordinates for an obscure plot, permanently on the edge of the cliff.
In the cinematographic level, the aesthetic sense of Levin Garbisch can be questionable, the camera movements or the editing can be too much conventional when the narrative material was opening the way for other approaches. But the film is based on consistent cinematography and acceptable interpretations.
Victor Eustaquio/Cult Critic/CICFF
In fact, the obsession, or the mechanisms of how it develops and manifests itself – in Melville's version, the obsession of Ahab, captain of the whaler the Pequod, for revenge on Moby Dick, the white whale that on the previous whaling voyage bit off Ahab's leg at the knee – is a sufficiently passionate and challenging subject for storytellers. But starting from 'Moby Dick' does not seem to be a particularly brilliant idea. This was the dilemma of director 'Levin Garbisch' (qv). Obsessed with Melville's work, he wanted to make a movie about obsession, but he was not finding a solution to escape from 'Moby Dick'.
One day, driving around downtown LA while listening to Mastodon's album 'Leviathan' (also based on 'Moby Dick's story), searching for a place to park, Levin had a crazy idea: what if instead of searching to kill a whale, his Ahab character was just looking for a parking space? It may seem strange, but that's what it's about 'I Shall Never Return', the first feature film of Levin Garbisch. A surreal adaptation of 'Moby Dick', the story of Lake, a young man obsessed with finding the ultimate truth, who is led down a path into the horrifying depths of his own subconscious. With a surreal production budget of 15,000 USD.
The result is not entirely convincing. Still, Levin's boldness has several positive aspects. The ability to tell a story, which in theory had everything to fail; the ability to engage and challenge the viewer in front of the strangeness and apparent inversomility he is watching (until finally, he begins to feel Melville's reminiscences); the ability to translate into a cinematic experience an appeal to the transition between the conscious and the subconscious in search of a reading or of coordinates for an obscure plot, permanently on the edge of the cliff.
In the cinematographic level, the aesthetic sense of Levin Garbisch can be questionable, the camera movements or the editing can be too much conventional when the narrative material was opening the way for other approaches. But the film is based on consistent cinematography and acceptable interpretations.
Victor Eustaquio/Cult Critic/CICFF
