It was bound to happen that Youth Without Youth, the first film written and directed by Francis Ford Coppola in fifteen years (the first directed in ten),would be lauded by the critics for not being a real "comeback" kind of project. It's surreal, philosophical, mystical, and even has a mood about it that calls as a throwback to old romantic melodramas of the 40s and 50s (hence the opening titles). It's not even any kind of great film. It's pretentious in a few stretches, maybe more-so, and it takes a convoluted explanation that comes second in 2007 film only to Southland Tales for being more complex and bizarre. But unlike Kelly's film, Coppola at least has a hold on what he's doing, or what he's trying to accomplish. Coppola once said that art is all about taking riks, and to make films without risk is like sex without children.

In the grand scheme of things, at least with his career, Youth Without Youth seems to be slightly minor a risk when compared to the likes of Apocalypse Now or One From the Heart. But it's a risk that Coppola takes all the same, and through the intellectual thicket (which, contrary to some critics, isn't completely dense) there is some truly potent cinematic expression. So, the plot, the plot... A linguistics professor, Dominic (Tim Roth) is an old man when he gets struck by lightning in 1938, then proceeds to age back to 40 in recovery, only to then find that he's being watched- and planned for abduction- by Nazi scientists who want to use his newfound super-powers (mostly that he can, at times, harness powerful energy, as Dominic describes as "out of a science fiction novel"). This might be enough for a movie alone, but there's more- years later, a woman from Dominic's past (from before the lightning strike) appears again, also still apparently young, and she can talk in ancient languages, so then...

Yeah, I could go on with that. Suffice to say there's also talk about how this whole time-warp connects into the realm of consciousness itself, or what makes up knowledge or the pursuit of language, and all relating to time, leading up to an ending that flips around itself, all inspired by an old Chinese tale that goes around and around. What it means I still can't quite figure, and it at least shows Coppola won't spoon-feed any kind of easy ending (even the whole "it's only a dream" concept has some holes to fill, leaving ambiguity as something a little more logical). Frankly, I've never read any of the Mircea Eliade's writings, but there's a lot to it that strikes up references to other works. I couldn't help but think the plot, and its themes, were as though Philip K. Dick was forced to make a melodrama- on his own terms- from an unpublished book. Or that there was a connection to the Fountain, or even Dr. Who or something else. The comparisons are endless.

But what remains, at the end of trying to figure out what the hell Youth Without Youth will say as its ultimate message, is an original work, sincerely with the verve of a filmmaker who just says 'f*** it' and makes the movie he wants to make on his own terms (with, subsequently, his own money). If there is any risk to the project it's that Coppola gambles on narrative cohesion with elements like two Dominics following the lightning strike (one of which, of course, prods the other to complete his life's work as a "failure"),or the power of emotion with two people in love vs. the tremendous, daunting task of unlocking secrets of language and consciousness and what time even means. Couple this with technique that veers into the abstract, with upside down camera angles and upfront anti-Nazi imagery ala Indiana Jones, and a music that strikes up the most melancholy and precise of aforementioned melodrama, and it becomes the weirdest hybrid Coppola's ever made.

And yet, and yet, if Youth Without Youth is one thing above all else, it's, well... interesting. I never felt like getting up and even leaving to go to the bathroom much less leaving the film for good. I cared about Dominic and Veronica as I did the direction Coppola took the story (even if pretensions, particularly in the second half, seemed to loop into the equation). And Roth is, not to forget to mention, terrific in the role, seeming to understand where his character may (or may not) be headed as he continues with his research and finds that he is sort of doomed in time unless he goes down a certain path. He even gets to dig into a certain subdued humor underneath the skin of the picture, where a few times there's some laughs to be had at the expense of what's going on with Dominic, as though some old philosopher discovered a comic book and incorporated it into his character. It's a very strange movie experience, and not one I can easily recommend. But I do all the same, and Coppola fans will either like it or, as case is turning out, they wont.

Francis Coppola's last mainstream Hollywood film was The Rainmaker and before that it was the critically maligned Jack. Since then the legend of cinema has walked away from being a director for hire. I guess he is still smarting from the failure of his Zoetrope Studios.

In Youth without Youth Coppola turns to European art cinema and not for the first time. His black and white Rumble Fish was heavily influenced by the German Expressionist style.

Tim Roth plays Dominic a 70 year old man in Pre World War 2 Romania, who is struck by lightning and is rejuvenated astounding his doctor (Bruno Ganz).

Dominic is 30 years younger with a regenerated body, he even grows new teeth, he undergoes various tests put to him by his doctors. However it is not only the physical body that has improved, also his mental faculties have gone through a quantum leap. This also arouses the interests of the Nazis once the war erupts.

Of course Dominic hides that he has an alter ego that converses with him and seems to have enhanced powers himself. Also whereas the older Dominic was striving to finish his life's work in the origins of linguistics, now he has the time to research and write further. He speaks many Oriental languages now he can read by just looking at a book.

As the war rages on Dominic escapes to Switzerland to continues his research. In the 1950s, a meeting with a woman called Veronica who reminds him of Laura, a lost love turns the film further on its head. Veronica transmigrates to another soul back in time such as an early disciple of Buddha in ancient India. She keeps going back further in time speaking in ancient languages enabling Dominic to get very near to the first spoken text but at the risk of losing Veronica for good.

The film is a mixture of vision and story. It could easily be something that could had been made by that other American filmmakers Terrence Malick or David Lynch. The film sets its stall out with the European Art-house cinema style, it is not a literal movie as the film feels dreamlike. You do wonder if this is all a dream of Dominic after being struck by lightning.

The film is little known but I was surprised by how accessible it was and how much I enjoyed the film. Coppola has never been afraid to experiment and at times he has misfired badly. Even here some of the scenes set in India does not convince as they are too modern with modern cars driving past. There is even a shot of The Taj Mahal Palace Hotel in Mumbai that crops up in scenes set in Uttar Pradesh.

However this is an intriguing, experimental even a slightly unnerving film. Roth should be given plaudits for drawing the viewer in and keeping them invested in his character.

Youth without Youth shows the world that Coppola is still a master filmmaker.

This film, shot mostly in Rumania and directed by Francis Ford Coppola, has some of the most splendid location photography I've ever seen. Indoors is all burnished gold and dark shadows, like "The Godfather," and snowy piny landscapes have never been more snowy or more piny. The cinematographer, Mihai Malaimare Jr., ought to get a medal.

But when a character, the actual historical figure of Professor Giuseppe Tucci, played by Marcel Iures, remarks casually and in all seriousness, that "the mind presents the appearance of duality" -- and says it in Sanskrit -- we at last understand that we may be in for a long slog through some metaphysics. The images are unimpeachable but the thrust of the story is as murky as hell.

Tim Roth is an ancient Rumanian professor of Oriental Studies and is struck by lightning on the street in 1938. He's taken to the hospital where is condition is pronounced "grave", as they say. But after a protracted recovery he finds that his body has renewed itself and now, instead of looking like the man of 70 that he in fact is, he looks and feels like 35. It's a miracle out of scripture, but not necessarily the kind of scripture we're most familiar with.

With the aid of a psychiatrist, played by Bruno Ganz, Roth finds that he now knows even more than he did before his accident. Moreover, he can read and memorize books just by passing his hand over them. On top of that, he can predict the outcome of random events, which enables him to support himself at the roulette tables. And on top of THAT, he displays an ability to compel others to act without saying a word to them.

Ganz, the psychiatrist, has stupidly published Roth's case study in the medical journals. Remember, this is the beginning of World War II and Rumania is in league with the Nazis -- well, sort of -- and a Nazi scientist wants to experiment on Roth in the belief that a million volt electrocution will result in a superior race. The Nazi has tried it on animals but has just been electrocuting a dead horse.

About this time, the viewer may feel he's got a handle on this fantasy. It's going to be the story of a guy with miraculous powers who is pursued by those who want to use him for selfish ends.

But no. The Nazis come and go without real consequence. The USSR occupies and governs Rumania. Roth has made his way to Switzerland but is still shadowed by journalists and mysterious figures who have divined his real identity, despite the cleverness of his false identity.

Then a bright-eyed and cheerful young woman, Alexandra Maria Lara, who may (or may not) have been struck by lightning enters the picture. She can now speak Sanskrit and claims to have lived a former life in Nepal. The film disregards Roth for a while and explores the character of this babe. As time goes by she begins to spout increasingly ancient languages -- Egyptian, Assyrian, and seems to be working her way back to "the proto language", which some linguists have actually proposed once existed. It would mean that language was invented only once in the history of humankind, at a single place and a single time.

But enough of the plot, if that's what it is, otherwise we're talking about A Skeleton Key to Youth Without Youth, and I don't do that kind of stuff on spec.

"Wipe your glosses with what you know," punned another famously difficult novelist, and Mircea Eliade knows his glosses. Cripes, he spoke like five languages and had a reading knowledge of three or four others. He was not just a linguist but a philosopher, a theologian, an historian, a novelist, and all-around egghead who taught, among other institutions, at the University of Chicago. I'd have killed for his curriculum vitae.

The rest of us mortals will have to settle for what we see on the screen and between Eliade's musings and Coppola's ambitions it's hard to know what exactly we're witnessing. The director and writer keeps the story simple enough. There are no pyrotechnic directorial displays and the images are lineal. But what we see follows a kind of dream logic in which events don't necessarily turn on one another in a rational fashion. (If Roth can make a Nazi shoot himself in the head, why can't he make his pursuers and tormentors go away?) Maybe the novel was better. (I doubt it.) Some books, however great, can't be turned into convincing films. I mean, what is "Ulysses" all about? An aimless, scholarly kid gets drunk and finds himself being cared for by a cuckolded older Jewish guy. What is "Lolita" about? A dirty old man runs off with a precocious adolescent girl.

I'll take a plunge and try to sum up the movie's message. Knowledge and art aren't everything. There are things that transcend logic and aesthetics. In fact, the pursuit of real ends is a zero sum game. Not only "a little learning is a dangerous thing," but the more you learn the more danger you're in. You may wind up knowing more, but at the expense of your innocence. A deep thinker's "Portrait of Dorian Gray."

I'll have another Heinekins, please. Thank you.