The Man, the Myth

LISTEN TO ME MARLON (B+) - Marlon Brando left behind a trove of cassette tapes filled with his philosophical ramblings, and Stevan Riley has turned it all into a magical biography.

In a manner similar to that of "Kurt Cobain: Montage of Heck," Riley raids the actor's personal archives and uses Brando's own voice to narrate what is essentially a psychological study of the great American actor. While it starts slowly, it finds its footing by the halfway mark and flirts with the profound by the end.

Brando was a troubled soul. He talks about his alcoholic parents. He admits to infidelities. He goes on rapturously about Tahiti and its people and the refreshing absence of sinful American culture there. He nearly boasts about taking roles in horrid movies in the '60s just to make a buck. He claims to have rewritten his Kurtz character in "Apocalypse Now." He frets about his weight gain, chiding himself about indulging to excess. With his fervid brain, he is fundamentally human.

Curiously, Riley bookends the film with news clips and audio snippets surrounding the fatal shooting by his son Christian of the boyfriend of Christian's half-sister Cheyenne back in the early 1990s. (Christian did prison time, struggled with addictions and died before he was 50; Cheyenne, who was pregnant at the time of the shooting, committed suicide at 25.) We see familiar footage of Brando breaking down on the witness stand while admitting his failings as a father. (It's been reported that he sired at least a dozen children with various women.)

The tapes can be quite enlightening. Some are marked "Meditation," wherein Brando offers incantations and calming suggestions in an attempt to ease his anxieties. He found much duality in existence, and he convinced himself that life and making a living are somewhat of a scam. The trick is to ignore all the trappings of western culture and embrace the simplicity of nature.

Riley marches chronologically, methodically building a version of the man as only a skilled biographer can. It is intimate and compelling. The montage is obviously missing some major aspects of his personality and career, but these bits and pieces eventually cohere into a satisfying whole.

BONUS TRACK
The mesmerizing song over the end credits, "Don't Get Any Closer" by Eluvium: