Eduardo Serra, one of the more quietly influential cinematographers of the past 40 years, has died at 81. This man created visual miracles.
The Portuguese-born, French-trained DP built a career that balanced intimate European dramas with global blockbusters. If his name isn’t familiar, you’ll quickly realize he was responsible for some of the most beautiful imagery of the last 40 years.
If you know Serra’s name, it’s probably because of his Oscar-nominated work on “The Wings of the Dove” (1997) and “Girl with a Pearl Earring” (2003). Those two films alone — with their soft, painterly light and hushed textures — secured him a place in the canon. ‘Pearl Earring’ in particular is one of those rare movies that you can pause on any frame and it feels like a Vermeer painting.
Serra’s earlier collaborations with Patrice Leconte (“The Hairdresser’s Husband,” “Ridicule”) and Claude Chabrol, were more restrained and defined a certain French visual grammar of the ’80s and ’90s. Modest, but somehow glowing.
Then, in an unlikely career turn, Hollywood came calling. M. Night Shyamalan tapped him for “Unbreakable” (2000), a film that’s aged remarkably well, due in no small part to Serra’s moody and shadowy visuals. Edward Zwick brought him aboard for “Blood Diamond” (2006). And, of course, David Yates handed him the keys to the Harry Potter franchise, with Serra shooting the final two instalments (Deathly Hallows Part 1 and Part 2).
In “What Dreams May Come” (1999), there’s no denying just how stunningly Serra’s cinematography turns the afterlife into a living painting, with impressionistic strokes of light and color. Serra leans into heightened, almost surreal imagery, and made one of the most visually striking films of the ‘90s.
If there’s a frequent motif in Serra’s work, it’s the balance between painterly beauty and emotional understatement. He didn’t always call attention to himself with flashy tricks. Instead, he trusted the image to hold the mood. His best shots feel effortless, even though you know they required painstaking craft.
Serra wasn’t a household name, but his images will live on — in Vermeer-like frames, in Bruce Willis’ shadows under a Philadelphia train station. A quiet master, gone at 81.
