For the films that I end up calling a favorite it sometimes takes a couple of reruns for me to fully absorb the the story, appreciate it and recommend it to everyone I know. Stoker was different, a first really. After the final scene began to black out I sat still as the evocatively chilling score by Philip Glass and Clint Mansell played in the background. It is as if I needed that blank space of time to carefully digest what I had just saw. To my slight surprise, I loved it. In other words, this coming- of-age film by Chan-wook Park is hauntingly beautiful and visually enticing.
The cinematography by director of photography, Chung-hoon Chung seamlessly introduced scene transitions from one to the next; causing viewers like me to forget I was even holding my breath. The concise use in the limited dialogue only goes to emanate the emotional and sensual performance found in the dexterity of actors Matthew Goode and Mia Wasikowska.
In efforts of not pulling a Ted Mosby, I leave you with the opening lines from this very film which begs to question the notion of nature versus nurture :
My ears hear what others cannot hear; small faraway things people cannot normally see are visible to me. These senses are the fruits of a lifetime of longing, longing to be rescued, to be completed. Just as the skirt needs the wind to billow, I’m not formed by the things that are of myself alone. I wear my father’s belt tied around my mother’s blouse, and shoes which are from my uncle. This is me. Just as a flower does not choose its color, we are not responsible for what we have come to be. Only once you realize this do you become free, and to become adult is to become free.