Reviews

I was mesmerized by KOY in the early '80's. Wishing to preserve the purity of that experience, I eschewed the Qatsi of the Powaqqa - until quite recently, when I collided with NAQOY. I retreated back to the more comforting Sqatsi of KOY, but eventually I had to confront the other two films as well.

These three films are a remarkable achievement. I feel honored to have been able to experience them. My emotions ranged far and wide, from longing for the simple, beautiful life, to grudging pride for man's achievements, and finally to the fear that we have really screwed things up. In the panel discussion in Special Features, Godfrey Reggio told us that he chose the Hopi language for his 'lingua franca' because it carried no baggage. He then endowed it with such baggage. Do the Hopi thank him for bowdlerizing their language?

KOY held that technology is out of balance with nature. Alas, if only "THEY" (that's you, not me, Pilgrim) had heeded the chants, "WE" would have a serene, beautiful life. Hmmm. If man had not developed technologies, while some animals have, would that be life in balance?

POWAQQAE, bad sorcerers that they are, have seduced the backwards, some say stupid, people of the southern hemisphere with false promises of prosperity and easier lives. Jared Diamond persuasively posits that the intelligence of Third World people is not greatly different from that of us, their northern neighbors. Consider this: WE offer people laboring in the southern hemisphere the option of 1) remaining one season away from starvation; or 2) technologies that result in their lives approximating those of the numberless people featured in POQAQQATSI. WE might be pleased if THEY chose the simpler, idyllic subsistence life, but this is the worst kind of sophistry. Do WE really know what's best for others? Are WE preternaturally wiser and smarter than others in the world? Time will tell. The Muezzin's mesmerizing, haunting call to prayer at the end of the film is a chilling reminder that humanity will never lack for souls who believe they do know better.

NAQOYQATSI gets the range. Life IS war. Spend a little time away from your clubs and domiciles and observe what is going on in backyards, savannas and forests. WAR is a technology, a survival tool. Implicit in NAQOY is a defense of my notion that some living things, but not all, adapt and survive. That means developing successful behaviors and tools. Institutions, too. Don't blame me; I didn't write the script. Maybe I read it in the wrong language.

I first viewed BR years ago with a relative and some mutual friends. We writhed over the barbarity of Replicant Roy Batty and his 'fellow travelers.' What a dreadful killing machine he was! A perfect excuse for Supercop Rick Deckard's comparably barbarous actions, eh? After all, somebody had to do it. Deckard seemed to be spiritually dead, anyway. The ending filled me with sadness. I had seen life/love flow out of the dying Roy. My companions were surprised at my response.

Now, years later, the Director's Cut, which I just viewed, has left me with still more disturbing questions about who is, isn't or might be, what it is to be a sentient machine, evil and so on. I offer my thanks to the many thoughtful, insightful ideas set forth in the 772 other Viewers' Comments. Whew! I prefer to limit the scope of my Comments.

The truly tragic scene in the film is Roy Batty's death. Desperate to prolong his life, he rages "against the dying of the light." Confronting his creator, Eldon Tyrell, he learns that his life is NOT extendible. Only at the end does he accept his fate; head bowed, he finally lets go. His life ebbs away as Deckard, the implacable enemy whose life he spared, looks on.

"ALL THOSE MOMENTS WILL BE LOST IN TIME, LIKE TEARS IN RAIN."

I am reminded of the universally evocative ancient Hellenistic statue, THE DYING GAUL (230-220 B.C.), which depicts the final agonals of a wounded warrior whose army has been vanquished. Over the centuries, this statue has elicited great sadness and sympathy for the fallen warrior.

Are there any Tragic Heroes in Blade Runner? Who comes closest is Roy Batty, endowed by his creator with superhuman beauty, intelligence, strength and will (Milton, anyone?). His tragic flaws were either flukes or intentionally built into him by his creator; his short life span was a precautionary measure, we are told. Tragically, his humanity developed too late.

BLADE RUNNER is, in my opinion, also a work of art for the ages.

Milton? you say. After seeing it in the mid-70's. I concluded that Star Wars was inspired by John Milton's PARADISE LOST. The ancient questions and verities will be with us always.

The courageous and tenacious men, women and children in LONESOME DOVE were tasked with the demands of living and succeeding in the harsh, unforgiving 19th Century West. Life did not forgive error; you could not dial 9-11 when trouble came along. Nor were food stamps available. There were no safety nets.

Liberty was something you had to be ready to fight for. And the West was a good place in which to escape and hide, even to run away from yourself. Example: the murderous gang of outlaws, driven to excess by their psychotic leader, Dan Suggs.

I prefer to see my favorite characters in the context of history:

1. Po Campo: A true Mystic - a cauldron seething beneath a placid, fatalistic exterior. Choosing to walk instead of riding on the back of an animal, he is imbued with philosopher Miguel De Unamuno's TRAGIC SENSE OF LIFE. After deciding that Po Campo could cook and hiring him, Gus soon realized what sort of man he was, a fellow philosopher. But he was a bit too abstract for old' down to earth Woodrow.

2. Woodrow: This is the sort of man who creates something out of nothing and builds empires, no matter what the personal sacrifice. Emotions are a waste of time. I noted with interest the deference he accorded Gus, seemingly indifferent to his frequent indolence. But he knew that when things got tough, Gus would deliver. Woodrow did his thinking quietly, but once he made up his mind, that was the direction he took, no matter what. And, you didn't want to get Woodrow riled, did you?

3. Blue Duck: The embodiment of malevolence, savagery and cunning, he'd be a career criminal in any epoch. Note that the one person he truly feared was Gus. Frederic Forrest was perfectly cast.

4. Joshua Deets: He was a slave of History, as Ceszlaw Milosz put it. I believe that he was the equal of Gus and Woodrow. He courageously took what came his way and ran with it. He knew the great trust and value that Gus and Woodrow placed in him. He, in turn, gave them his undivided loyalty.

Gus and Woodrow, so different in personality and temperament, were so strongly bonded that Clara (Angelica Houston) astutely realized that she would lose the battle for Gus's heart to Woodrow. There would never be enough left over for her, so she did not marry him.

I wonder about the defining moments of the Dynamic Duo when they served with great distinction as Texas Rangers. As lawmen, they got their orders and were expected to carry them out. They didn't have a lot of options, like building a transcontinental railroad or other such projects. No wonder they eventually got too old and founded the Hat Creek Cattle Company. And no wonder that such a life became too confining for a man like Woodrow Call. Unlike Gus, he didn't have outlets, like drinking, gambling and whoring.

The book and film, LONESOME DOVE, are remarkable achievements.

BRILLIANT:

The power of THE MISFITS is astounding. The protective armor of the characters is flayed, exposing their pain.

Dancing to Peter North's riveting theme, the opening graphics show parts of a picture puzzle merging, not fitting and then separating, spinning off aimlessly.

The film is so good as to be almost beyond belief, beginning with the Arthur Miller screenplay. John Huston managed the Herculean task of getting the best from the cast and finishing the film. Ubiquitous in the background, we have the feral beauty of the Nevada desert.

The Mustang roundup: The wild horses are a metaphor for the three men who capture them; they do to the horses what life does to them. Sensing this, busted-up bronc rider Perse Howland (Montgomery Clift) expresses his guilt to Roslyn, "It don't seem so bad when there are more of them."

A number of western dramas showcase the functional and emotional obsolescence of men as times and circumstances change faster than they can adapt. In MISFITS, all the men are broken and obsolesced. Roslyn Taber (Marilyn Monroe), still young and pretty, has a better than average chance of success. Being Everyman's wet dream doesn't hurt, either, if she'll take better care of herself in the future.

DAMAGED GOODS:

Marilyn Monroe is better than expected, thanks to the tenacity of director John Huston. Roslyn Taber has a somewhat checkered past that she is reticent to discuss. Gay Langland (Clark Gable) loves her for what she is. However, she did not reciprocate when she saw how he rounded up the mustangs to be sold for dog food. She so fiercely defended the horses that the men gave up and let them go. To be sure, they never would have allowed a man to get away with that. In fact, Perse thought there would be one helluva fight.

The Cowboys: The aging divorcée Isabelle Steers (Thelma Ritter) says the only real men left are cowboys. As the song goes, "They never stay home and they're always alone, even with someone they love." In THE MISFITS we have men who chafe at the strictures of society. 'Working for wages' is seen as loss of freedom. But they are tough and brave. When fate closes in on them, they take their lumps - as real men should. True, they prey on Reno's emotionally needy, confused divorcées, but they are not amoral, like Lester Diamond (James Woods), the manipulative, remorseless scofflaw in CASINO.

The quest for the Holy Grail: The Rodeo cowboy, Perse, named after Perecival, one of the knights of the round table, is seeking the unattainable through sacrificing his body to the Rodeo. It is clear that he won't last much longer. Staying drunk is his way of dealing with the hurt and pain in his life.

The pilot: Guido is the most interesting character in the film. He has lost the most because he had the most to lose. W.W. II took him away from medical studies and put him in the cockpit of a heavy bomber. His wife died because a flat tire prevented him from getting her to medical help in time, an excuse that Roslyn astutely recognizes as a weak cop-out that gave him permission to stop trying. He even offers to sell out his friends and spare the horses if Roslyn will leave Gay for him. Guido is the lost soul..

Gay Langland realizes that their old way of life is gone. "You can't lasso a dream," he says. To his credit, he accepts the inevitability of change instead of feeling sorry for himself. This shows hope and fortitude. Isabelle is right: he is a real man.

Thus the tale begins.

I first viewed LOLITA in Berkeley, a college town, way back in 1963. Humbert and Charlotte seemed REALLY old. Sue Lyon was perfect as a nubile teen discovering and beginning to wield the sexual power of a woman. Us guys wouldn't stand a chance.

Poor Charlotte, widowed mother of Delores Haze (Lolita), is not treated very sympathetically in either novel or film. Humbert Humbert viciously slashes her with his gibes about her intelligence and education, talking over her head. Fate (thanks, Vladimir) has most unkindly widowed her, leaving her to live a financially secure but otherwise empty life and an urn full of her dead husband's ashes. She was still young enough to want more: Romance, love and excitement.

As Charlotte Haze, Shelly Winters is brilliant. The same for Kubrick's direction. She garnered my sympathy for the lonely, middle-aged widow as she sat softly crying, alone in her living room after Humbert callously abandons her to go chaperon (read: lust after) Lolita at a High School Prom. I stopped sneering and felt really sorry for her. At the film's end, I felt some compassion for the unlucky-at-love Humbert Humbert, even if he got what he deserved for being such a swine and a damn fool to boot.

Both film and book are brilliantly creative and entertaining. Among the standout performances is that of Peter Sellers as Claire Quilty, the bizarre, perverse avenging angel, bent upon raining on the hapless Humbert Humbert's parade. I sincerely hope that there aren't too many Claire Quiltys in the world and that I never become a target.

Standout comic scenes:

1. Humbert's execution of Claire Quilty at the beginning of the picture. When the first bullet hits him, Quilty realizes that this is no joke. Up to that point, it was really funny.

2. Charlotte's maudlin confession of her romance with Humbert to the urn containing her late husband's ashes. On a sad note, she excoriates him for dying and abandoning her.

3. The bedroom scene in the motel, in which the porter tries to quietly deploy the uncooperative roll-away bed for Humbert, so as to avoid waking the sleeping Lolita.

4. In the book: Charlotte's written love note is proffered to Humbert. Discovering it, he chortles with delight and good fortune. In the book, Charlotte imagined that her note was probably thrown in the "vortex of the toilet." That made Humbert laugh even more. To be sure, Nabokov had a mean streak, if not outright misogyny.

Over the years I have enjoyed Nabokov's work. Except for ADA, which I found frothy and completely inscrutable.

There are several films from the '40's to the '60's that I prefer to experience, rather than jump into Pauline Kael's skin. Let her successors dissect and occasionally say something of pith.

George Herbert said, "Time is the rider that breaks youth."

All the principal characters in this sad tale are broken. In their dissipation and aimless, joyless pursuits, they didn't stand for much of anything. It has been said that the cast was just too old for these roles. But they looked perfect for their roles, a group of people who were caught in a tepid tide pool, waiting to be washed out to sea. They were all tarnished goods.

I was especially impressed by Errol Flynn's performance. Of all of them, he was the most pitiful. Remember the song, "Tired of living and scared of dying?" That's him-a far cry from Captain Peter Blood.

Next is Robert Cohn (Mel Ferrer). He was a rich aimless child, eager to fasten himself to others, like a limpet. College had done nothing for him, except to make him an even greater useless snob. Then Lady Brett transformed him into a swine before casting him aside, because 'she couldn't stand his damned suffering.' After a crushing defeat at the hands of Brett and her bullfighter, he wisely headed home to Frances, if she would still have him.

Now we come to Jake and Lady Brett Ashley. These two truly loved one another, but in a very unhealthy way. She lost a husband to the Great War and never recovered. He gave "more then his life" to the war. His impotence was probably not the real reason Brett would not marry him, nor he, her. Damaged goods.

This film is excellent. Important, as is the book, emotional Tours De Force. Hemmingway is incredible.

Congratulations are in order. Each of the films has lots to offer (Manhunter the least), but Silence of --- offers the most. I've never seen a better performance from Jodie Foster. Anthony Hopkins will forever be remembered as Dr. Lector. Who else could play the role? Johnny Depp, as fine an actor as he is?

On to the most despicable characters; they are so easy to hate, more so than Lector's murderous cadre of acolytes, who, after all, have an excuse. In order of increasing odiousness: 1. Catherine, the rich, loudmouthed senator's daughter. Whatta bitch! She would have done better as a capacious frock. 2. Freddy Lounds, the flaming asshole tabloid publisher. Whatta spectacular way to go! 3. Dr. Chilton, the smarmy director of the mental hospital, who never tired of tormenting his prisoner, Hannibal Lector. Did he go well with fava beans? We can only hope so, for Lector's sake.

Finally, is that Barney who gets off the plane in the ISLANDS, MON, with Dr. Chilton? There was a remark made about security for the Big Shots. If so, that was just desserts.

One of the most sensuous scenes in any film I have seen is when the blind woman, Reba, is taken by Dolarhyde to 'experience' the beautiful tiger, under sedation. The way she listened, took in the scent and touched the animal, finally burying her cheek in its fur. Now, THAT was a scene! It beats the pants off Salome's dance, eh?

Now, lissen you guys, I LOVED THIS FILM, though not quite as much as FAREWELL TO THE KING, another beloved John Milius epic. It was fun, a lot more than if it were based on a Tennessee Williams drama. It's a great yarn, with a whiff of political correctness. I love this film for its beautiful photography, its humor and its attenuated criticism of the Bad Guys (Berbers) and the REAL Bad Guys, the spear- carriers for the acquisitive 'civilized' world, with their repeating rifles, artillery and large gunboats out there in the harbor.

The standout scene is the Berber encampment with blue-gray smoke from the cooking fires rising into the chill desert air. It is visually eloquent, highly evocative.

Set in 1904 Morocco, WIND features a helpless American woman (Candace Bergen) who is taken hostage by a dashing, albeit immodest, Berber bandit (Sean Connery-the very model ofa Scottish Muslim nomad). The exciting story is based on a few historical facts. The photography is Milius beautiful, punctuated by Jerry Goldsmith's outstanding score.

Mrs Pedicaris and the Raisuli conduct protracted foreplay and bounce around in the desert between oases. Even though the Raisuli proudly traces his lineage back to the apes, he is a perfect gentleman - he even lets her keep her head after she beats him at chess! A Marine detachment storms the Bashaw's palace, putting out the fires of competing hegemonies with gasoline. Don't mess with the Corps, Abdul.

There are many entertaining stereotypes:

Despicable Sultan - resembles a dissipated ferret. Definitely not a Liberal.

Cruel German Officer - a large, bellicose Dachshund sporting a monocle. He gallantly chooses to fight the Raisuli with swords instead of gunning him down in the manner of Indiana Jones. Noblesse oblige, by way of Von Clausewitz?

Dashing Marine Officer - kicks the crap out of the Bashaw of Tangier's army and storms his palace while chewing tobacco. His speech is mildly aphasic. The Bashaw begged him not to breathe on him.

The Berbers - a horde of groveling sycophants led by a charming megalomaniac. None of them take baths, except perhaps in camel urine.

President Teddy Roosevelt is undeservedly portrayed as vacuous and preoccupied with guns, toys and stuffed grizzly bears.

Beautiful American widow - gives the men a lesson in courage, as do her two children. She evidently has a huge supply of clean, starched clothes and rarely has a hair out of place.

The Raisuli sends Teddy Roosevelt a message, thanking him for the gift of a Remington repeating rifle, declaring,

"MEESTER ROOSEVELT, YOU ARE THE LION AND AIEE AM THE BREAKING WIND."

How true.

Please do not take my acerbic remarks to mean that I did not like the film. I had almost as much fun writing this as watching da Pitcher.

Some of the INDOCHINE comments already posted are so powerful that I was hesitant to offer my own. I am not an authority on the art of cinema, preferring to experience films and then see what I think/feel about them. INDOCHINE is a profoundly beautiful and moving film. I watch it now and then to recalibrate my moral compass.

Background: I believe that colonialism's fate was sealed with the invention of movable type. Granted, it seemed unstoppable for a few centuries, but all forms of Manifest Destiny, et. al, like all dogs, eventually have their day. So will those that are currently wallowing in "puerile, self-congratulatory nationalism," to borrow a phrase from Carl Sagan.

Philosophically speaking, colonialism, like slavery, is indefensible. What's to like, unless you're the one doing it? True, there are films that celebrate the triumph of colonial powers over lesser beings. Here are three: THE FOUR FEATHERS, THE SAND PEBBLES, sort of, and GUNGA DIN, also sort of. GUNGA DIN, however, imputes more intelligence to the erudite Thugee leader, GURU, than the three loutish British noncoms who fight him to preserve the RAJ. The noble, water-carrying Gunga Din, a sort of human reincarnation of Rin-Tin-Tin, saves the day and gives his life for his beloved leaders. More than often, such films serve patriotic purposes. Whatever works, eh?

INDOCHINE is a fine example of cinematic art with a strong message about social justice and the rights, under Natural Law, of all peoples. It is strikingly beautiful. But under all this beauty lay injustice, cruel exploitation and addiction to drugs and sexual appetites. One sees the rot and decay of the French and Mandarin ruling classes. Compared to them, the Communists didn't look half bad. For more on that subject, look up THE NEW CLASS, by Milovan Djilas, in Wikopedia if you don't want to read it.

Just as France held fast to her colonies in Indochina like a parasite, colonist/rubber plantation owner Emile fastened on to his daughter, Elaine. In turn, she clung to her beautiful adopted daughter, Camille.

The most striking metaphor was the Tango scene, in which mother and daughter danced a grotesque parody of romance. The young naval officer, Jean Baptiste, saw this very clearly. Confronting Elaine with this awful truth got him banished, his naval career in tatters (actually, it's not quite that simple).

It also put in motion a tragic set of events that convulsed the lives of all concerned. The love between Camille and Jean Baptiste survived, living on through their infant son, Etienne, who was adopted and raised by Elaine.

Every time I watch this remarkable film I feel emotionally drained. Time to watch something light and funny, eh?

I just viewed the DVD edition of TESS; I loved the Commentaries. TESS is a stunningly beautiful work of art. Thank God for the talent, vision and perseverance of Roman Polanski, his cast, crew and backers.

Given Polanski's celebrated appetite for young girls, I was not surprised that he portrayed the swinish Alex Stokes/D'Urberville in an almost sympathetic light. 17 Year-old Natassia Kinski is imbued with a luminous, almost unearthly beauty, even in the darkest of scenes. No wonder Polanski couldn't keep his hands off her. This film offers us a glance back in time to a long-gone pastoral life and the parochial intolerance of its people and their leaders. All faced the changes wrought by the juggernaut Industrial Revolution.

Long ago, while still in college, I was influenced against Hardy by W. Somerset Maugham's petulant, whining novel, CAKES AND ALE, with its veiled references to Hardy as a pedestrian writer with little artistic merit. Was I surprised when, in 1962, I got around to reading TESS! I was struck by its narrative and descriptive power and its still relevant social commentary. TESS filled me with outrage over the injustice meted out to a spirited, yet simple farm girl, whose main fault was being too beautiful. Following that enlightenment, I read just about everything Hardy has written.

I enjoyed the drama much more than the pedantry. It can be argued that only the certifiable would favor starting a nuclear war. Stanley Kubrick made that clear in STRANGELOVE. At the end, Pollock finally lit his soggy cigar: Is this a veiled reference to Curtis LeMay, another short, cigarred warrior, considered psychotic by many?

I must comment on Lurie's statement in the Director's Commentary that nuking Japan, according to historians, was unnecessary, and that the casualty projection (@ one million) rate in an invasion was a cynical overstatement. That may be politically correct and VERY Hollywood, but it fails to consider the condition of our own armed forces and the nation. We, too, were exhausted. It has been said that Admiral Halsey, following the Okinawa invasion, did not think that he could fight any longer and wanted to resign. And he was a pretty tough cookie.

I suggest the Mr. Lurie might have been less white whine and brie preachy.