The afterlife is a tricky subject to tackle in cinema. Whether it’s a bleak, bizarre journey like Jarmusch’s Dead Man or a long-winded, Oz-like adventure as in What Dreams May Come, each film is merely an interpretation of what the writer and director believes may be one truth. When it comes to the Hereafter few of us know what’s to come, and the few that claim to know what’s to come are probably full of something.

Thus, it was refreshing to see that Clint Eastwood, using a script penned by contemporary über-scribe Peter Morgan, has no interest in deciphering “the light.” Instead, Eastwood, a master in every sense of the word, has decided to tackle the subject in terms of its effect on the living; we should thank him for it.

Hereafter is a slow burn and rightfully so; the road to absorbing the reality of the spirit world is an arduous one paved with self-doubt, self-pity, and self-sacrifice. Eastwood, in the twilight of a brilliant career, is certainly in no rush to shout vague truths at us from a pedestal. He simply wants us to kneel with him and meditate for a few hours. Well, Clint, it would be an honor.

The drama presents us with three threads for which to unravel, each a different journey along the edges of death. George Lonegan, played with subtle complexity by Matt Damon (who continues to amass a great body of work), is trying to move on with his life. A former working psychic, George acquired the ability to hear the deceased in his youth after a brain and spinal surgery. Since retired from the business, George is now an American factory worker, eschewing the big bucks of paranormal message relaying in order to avoid the life of “a freak.” Marie Lelay, a Paris-based journalist played by the beautiful Cecile De France, is enjoying a vacation when a disaster (more on that sequence in a moment) threatens to derail her entire existence and her perception of being. Marcus, the younger brother in a set of twins, is a London schoolboy who along with his brother Jason, takes care of their drug-addled mother; that is until an accident forces him to confront death and all the questions that surround it.

The basis of this story is the unique journey these three characters take, each experiencing the concept of the afterlife in varying degrees. George has had a long-standing relationship with death; his visions once considered hallucinations until he was able-minded enough to understand the apparitions were more than perceptual anomalies. He has transcended the stage of understanding; his struggle is one of acceptance. Marie, like George, has tapped into the afterlife and is desperately trying to uncover its truths; unlike George, though, her fingers have

barely scratched upon the fringes of our shadowy destinies. Marcus, played with doleful silence by Frankie McLaren, is the farthest from the truth; he scours YouTube simply trying to find a legitimate definition of the hereafter.

These through lines of narrative represent Eastwood’s brushes with the otherworld; one in which he has touched, felt, and had his fill of death (certainly a filmmaker of Eastwood’s caliber is not trying to simply make an allegory on the “stages of grief” at this point in his career…is he?).

At this point, I could mention how Eastwood, with the help of long time cinematographer Tom Stern, has once again created a gorgeous looking film. I could mention how meanings were conveyed through color; some sequences with the heavily grieving Marcus are bleached and drained, while others bleed purple, gray, and black like a gothic funeral parlor. I could say a bit about the use of lighting to convey internal conflict. George’s home is largely unlit, the bulk of his place covered in shadows even when company is present, an obvious play on his desire to hide his ability. And, I could expound upon the opening sequence. You know what? I think I will.

Japan is suffering from a tsunami, one similar to the monster that crushed Indonesia’s coastline, which subsequently inspired the disaster in this film. Recently, Japan has pulled the film from its theaters and Eastwood is donating a portion of the DVD’s profits to the effort in the Far East. As tragic as these circumstances are, and they are horrific, one cannot detract from the brilliance that is the opening sequence of Hereafter. It is genuine movie magic, and in this day and age where digitized items appear to be as real or more real than reality itself, that is saying something (in Blu-ray, this sequence is even more magnificent).

Speaking of Blu-ray, the extras for the film are very much focused on that opening scene itself. We get to see all the work put into that amazing opening, the green screen, the water tanks, the on-location shots, all very interesting. You have two ways to watch the “behind-the scenes” material (which also includes the cast and crew’s musings on the topic of death), either by itself or inter-spliced with the film.

The other special feature is a ninety-minute documentary chronicling Clint Eastwood’s legendary career featuring the golden, buttery voice of Morgan Freeman. While there’s not too much bonus material to sink your teeth into on the Blu-ray, the DVD version, on the other hand, has no extras.

I agree that this film is not for everyone; detractors might point to the film’s propensity to elicit tears too willy-nilly or its sad-faced, long gestating meditation on death. Wallowing in

the puddles of mortality isn’t for every sailor, but most should take this piece as it is, a moment in time to contemplate life’s aftershocks with a maestro of thoughtful art.