Grand Tour Is a Deliberately Ramshackle Yet Captivating Work of Art

As a seasoned movie buff with a penchant for international cinema, I must confess that Miguel Gomes’ “Grand Tour” has left an indelible mark on my cinematic journey. This film is akin to savoring a rich and layered epic poem, where each scene unfolds like a unique verse, resonating with the rhythm of life itself.


In the spirit of an epic ballad narrated by various characters, Miguel Gomes’s film, Grand Tour, offers a unique and graceful perspective, blending the scripted with the documentary. It follows the fantastical tale of two lovers traveling independently across East and Southeast Asia in the early 20th century. The narrative transitions smoothly from Burmese to Thai, Vietnamese, and beyond, mirroring the characters’ cultural journeys. Gomes weaves together staged sequences with authentic footage, some of it reflecting contemporary times while other segments seem eternal. This cinematic masterpiece has earned the director, known for his art-house appeal and innovative yet unyielding style, a well-deserved Best Director award at Cannes. Grand Tour is currently screening at the New York Film Festival. The movie, described by Gomes as reflecting “the spectacle of the world,” serves as an intriguing paradox: Despite its occasionally absurd and self-consciously artificial narrative about two souls traversing a continent, it encourages viewers to examine our own reality more thoughtfully.

Initially in the movie, Edward Abbot (played by Gonçalo Waddington), a dashing British officer based in Rangoon, finds himself avoiding his unseen fiancée Molly (Crista Alfaiate). He wanders aimlessly from one city to another – Singapore, Bangkok, Saigon, Manila, Osaka, and beyond. Edward feels troubled yet uncertain about why he’s running away from Molly. As he waits with a bouquet of flowers for her ship in Mandalay, he envisions himself drifting peacefully along a muddy river. This is a subtle yearning for freedom. And before he realizes it, he gives his flowers to other women on the dock and secretly boards a ship to Singapore, embarking on an adventure that’s more about luck and missteps than any deliberate plan or objective.

In the second part, we follow Molly, who contrasts greatly with the aimless and unfortunate Edward. Where he exudes melancholy and disconnection, she embodies determination. As she retraces his steps, a distinct sense of engagement with her environment becomes apparent. Unlike her supposed love interest, who was shrouded in sadness and isolation, Molly seems to form a bond with the places and items around her. Despite her focused demeanor, she displays an unexpected eagerness for exploration. It’s as if we’re witnessing two distinct approaches to life. However, as with many of us, their lives ultimately unfold in similar ways.

The movie loosely adheres to its characters’ journeys; Gomes intersperses street scenes, marionette performances, shadow puppets, karaoke songs, and carnivals with shots of Edward or Molly, creating an eclectic mix rather than a strict chronology. The director does not force the connection between his images and sounds, allowing the seams to show intentionally, yet also possibly due to practical circumstances. As Gomes shared with Film Comment, he filmed some of these documentary scenes before having a script; others were captured remotely by a local crew under his guidance from Lisbon via live feed, followed by shooting the main narrative scenes in a studio with actors. The result is a visually striking sequence, shot in black-and-white on a soundstage and featuring awkward extras, which may transition into color images of modern Shanghai or Myanmar. This juxtaposition does not create discordance but rather fosters deeper engagement, as Gomes finds poetic parallels to the stories being told. A rickety fishing boat traveling from Bangkok to Saigon at dusk ignites the imagination with its potential connections to Edward’s narrative. Could that mysterious figure on the prow be someone from Edward’s story? Could this towering structure be a temple or an impressive tree? Could the grizzled old man playing mahjong in a nondescript hall be a curious gambler on the last boat up the Mekong, defying Edward’s existential crisis? The film invites us to rediscover the childlike wonder of a world teeming with possibilities, where each sight exists on a spectrum of meaning.

In this film, the mix of visual and auditory differences is both intriguing and skillfully done. A British consul in China, nearing the end of his days, comments, “The end of the empire is imminent. We’ll depart without a clue.” This sentiment is echoed later by a pastor who decides to abandon his mission and return home to England, filled with newspapers and blueberry preserves: “My life may seem pointless as a pursuit,” he confesses to Molly, “but it’s no more pointless than what I’ve done here.” The structures of empire hold little significance in this setting. As these foreigners journey deeper into these lands, they become increasingly obscured, much like wilting plants becoming one with the earth. The voices on the soundtrack telling Edward and Molly’s stories in their native tongues give the impression that they have already transcended into myths, spectral figures in a place that remains alien to them, even as its everyday normality is vividly portrayed through the realistic textures of the scenes shown. Essentially, Grand Tour challenges the idea that one must “understand” anything at all.

The film’s most striking feature lies in its ability to imbue the ordinary with a sense of awe, avoiding the exoticizing perspective that could have been present in an early-20th-century production. It serves as a reminder that life itself can be magical and puzzling, and this is evident from the very first frames, which showcase simple yet astonishing shots of three men manually rotating a motorless Ferris wheel in modern Myanmar. The men’s actions could be compared to acrobatics or dance as they manipulate and leap on the wheel at seemingly impossible angles, giving it a powerful push just as it touches the ground. In essence, the film is like these men and their device: a deliberately rough-hewn creation that gains charm through its lack of traditional means of operation and significance. By exposing its own artifice, it highlights the enigma of the world as one of life’s most lasting and divine mysteries.

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2024-10-09 20:54