Death in Love Blu-ray features mediocre video and audio in this mediocre Blu-ray release
Two brothers try to climb out of the shadows of their Holocaust survivor mother's (Jacqueline Bissset) dark
past - and the love affair she conducted with a Nazi doctor while in the camps. Decades after their mother's
experience, which left her blurring the lines between pleasure and pain, the sons' lives still reverberate with
the damage. One is a sharp, charming, intensely sexual but loveless con artist working in an exploitive
modeling agency, while carrying on a carnally extreme relationship with his boss. The other is a brilliant but
reclusive pianist unable to venture from the house. But change has come upon the family. The reclusive
brother is moving out of his parents' home for the first time; the ambitious brother is about to make a deal
with an alluring new business partner who promises to jump-start a new life; and their mother finds herself
pursued by a treacherous figure from long ago. As duplicity, moral compromise and the ghosts of the past
haunt their vivid sexual and emotional relationships, the family careens towards a shattering catharsis.
What do you get when self-loathing nihilism collides with blunt images of graphic sex? You end up with Boaz Yakin's bleak introspective analysis of an extreme mid-life crisis called Death in Love. Seemingly constructed as a portrait of human nature at its worst, the film attempts to indulge viewers on a cerebral level through intense dialogue, disturbing images, and a fascination with emotionally torturing the audience. This is a far-cry from the director's previous work (Remember the Titans and Uptown Girls), but feels right at home with the depravity of the Hostel productions (Yakin served as a producer on both films), provided you remove the extreme gore. I'm always appreciative when a writer/director goes off the grid to make an independent production without concern for satisfying a target market, but there's a certain point where you descend into territory nobody wishes to venture across. If I haven't lost you by this point, grab your favorite bottle of anti-depressants, a fresh box of tissues, and read on.
You probably can't tell here, but Josh Lucas decided to pack on some pounds for this role.
Following a gruesome opening scene depicting experiments on children at a concentration camp in Nazi Germany, we're introduced to a present-day family of four. The eldest son (Josh Lucas) is a middle-aged sex addict who divides his time between shallow relationships with younger women, and a commission-based occupation as a smooth-talking agent with a fake modeling agency. His younger brother (Lukas Haas) is an emotionally stunted man-child who lives with his parents and creates amazing piano compositions. The brothers were raised by their ill-tempered mother (Jacqueline Bisset) and accommodating father (Stu Richel), who seem oddly content with their ongoing unhappiness, and oblivious to the problems of their adult children. Throughout the course of the film, we witness the gradual downward spiral of the mother and her two sons, as they selfishly bleed the life and joy out of everyone around them.
I'd gather you're wondering what the concentration camp has to do with the present-day family, so without giving too much away, I'll simply say the circumstances in the revisited Nazi plotline play a pivotal role in the tragic events that befall the doomed family. The side story isn't entirely graceful in hitting the themes it set out to convey, but the dichotomy of brutal Nazi experiments against the backdrop of an unusual romantic relationship is a unique commentary in and of itself. Furthermore, the way the historic scenes are interwoven across the landscape of the present-day tale adds weight to the actions and emotional outbursts of the primary characters, while partially explaining the lewd behavior on display.
Love in Death is a difficult film to watch, and therefore a difficult film to judge. Every piece of dialogue is laced with spite, hatred, or loathing, leaving the audience little room to sympathize with the three main characters. The eldest son begins the film with a lengthy tirade about the physical decay of our human bodies over time, and the sexual implications of those changes. The discourse is filled to the brim with clever irony, but also displays how out of touch he is with even the most basic human emotions. From the very beginning, we understand he's merely a shell of a person, sleepwalking through a life of discontent, soulless ambiguity. In many ways, the character is so busy faking the world out, he actually begins to believe everyone around him is returning the favor. I'm merely grazing the surface of the off-putting canvas that slowly unravels, so expect much worse by the time the credits roll.
If I take a slightly different approach to my analysis of the film, I'm given the opportunity to be a bit more critical. Despite the intriguing topics addressed in the dialogue from time to time, the film suffers from the emergence of nonsensical exchanges between characters who seem a bit more clever than humanly possible. Dialogue should always maintain a certain degree of legitimacy, while avoiding the trappings of overly preachy exchanges, which eventually result in the film's undoing. Certain scenes feel forced or overly profound, pulling you out of the interactions and exposing the film for what it is. In those moments I had to remind myself this is a screenplay written by the author of such esteemed classics as The Punisher (1989), From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money, and Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. I'll cut Mr. Yakin some slack for demonstrating growth in his writing abilities, but Death in Love is far from masterpiece material.
Presented in 1080p utilizing the AVC codec (at an average bitrate of 19Mbps), Death in Love offers a visual experience that's just as self-loathing as the storyline. Grain-haters should avoid this like the plague, since nearly every scene is drenched in a thick layer of noisy randomness. I'm typically not turned off by the presence of film grain (DNR is not our friend), but this is one of the few circumstances where I found it overly distracting. Adding to the deficiencies, fine-object detail rarely stands out as an accomplished aspect of the transfer, leaving many textures and lines appearing hazy or obscured. Colors don't fare much better, creating a palette that remains washed out in most daylight scenes, yellowed in several indoor scenes, or garishly red in a handful of nightclub sequences. Most of these likely represent artistic choices on the part of the director, but they simply don't translate into a memorable visual experience. Problems I wouldn't attribute to the source material are several instances of light edge enhancement, unresolved blacks during indoor shots, and the presence of subtle color-bleeding in one nightclub scene. Taken as a whole, the transfer is a pronounced step down from the average Blu-ray offering, but suitable given the subject matter of the film.
The lossless audio track is a lackadaisical effort that merely demonstrates fleeting moments of proficiency, but seems content to simply exist through the majority of the feature. The main element in the mix is dialogue, which remains firmly planted in the center channel on far too many occasions. Even when the exchanges between characters call for a degree of spatial separation to the right or left, the opportunity is passed over, and we're left with dialogue that sounds a touch on the muffled side. Matters improve somewhat during a handful of scenes, such as the angry tirade of the unstable mother (who manages to break every dish in the kitchen), or the piano composition of the younger brother, but if you look at the film as a whole, it's a fairly significant let-down to experience a neutered lossless track. Similar to the visuals, there's not much value-added material in the technical quality of the audio experience, but given the nature of the film, it doesn't detract from it either.
Interviews (480p, Dolby Digital 2.0, 11:33 min): Assembling a collection of interviews with the primary actors as well as director Boaz Yakin, we're given various takes on the themes of the film and the nuances of each character. I can appreciate the multiple perspectives on the complexities of the film, but I clearly don't have the same level of appreciation for the end product.
2nd Unit (480p, Dolby Digital 2.0, 2:37 min): Alma Har'el briefly touches on the initial concentration camp scene where she was given free reign (as the second unit director).
Sex in Death in Love (1080i, Dolby Digital 2.0, 7:38 min): Multiple players in the film discuss the extensive use of sex and masturbation throughout the film, and their reservations in tackling the difficult subject of torture or death in parallel with intimate moments.
Rehearsal (1080i, Dolby Digital 2.0, 8:48 min): Behind the scenes footage is intercut with split-screen sequences showing on-set rehearsal footage under the final scene from the film. Yakin offers narration about the interplay of his directing style and the needs of his actors.
Sundance Premiere (480p, Dolby Digital 2.0, 1:18 min): This extra offers a brief glimpse of the film's major players as they attend the Sundance Premiere.
Sundance Q&A (480p, Dolby Digital 2.0, 5:59 min): Director Boaz Yakin, Josh Lucas, and Jacqueline Bisset answer questions following the premiere of the film. There aren't many revelations that can't be found in the audio commentary, but some may find this worthwhile.
Rounding out the extras, we have a feature-length audio commentary with director Boaz Yakin and actor Josh Lucas. If you manage to overcome the off-putting nature of the themes addressed within the film, this is an enlightening discussion between Lucas and Yakin, who offer more depth than the film manages to convey on its own.
Offering a recommendation on Death in Love is similar to suggesting it can be fun to jump buck naked into an icy river in the middle of winter. There will always be a select few that find the experience satisfying on some level, but they'll likely remain the minority. I'm not opposed to dark, tragic tales, but this is easily one of the most depressing films I've seen to date, and not something I'd ever consider in the future. If you ever wondered what audience alienation is referring to, look no further than Death in Love.
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