a_jordan_77 Reviews

The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976)

I reckon this is a damn good film.

[10/10 · 13 September 2007]

The thing that I love about all of the Westerns that Clint Eastwood directed is their moral complexity. He isn't content to tell a story where the heroes and villains are dressed all-in-black or all-in-white, so to speak. His characters are presented with difficult choices. Should Josey choose the path of justice and revenge, or the path of peace, reintegration, and submission? Within the moral framework of the movie these paths are mutually exclusive, and neither is completely satisfactory. It is painfully clear that from the moment Josey picks up a gun to avenge his slain family, he will never be able to return to a life of peace, although he will want to. But what other choice does he really have? What makes this movie amazing is that the main character is clearly cognizant of this moral struggle. In the briefest flickers of expression on Clint Eastwood's face, and in the well chosen word, we see that although this man is supernaturally good at killing people, he doesn't LIKE it. He would rather have been left alone on his farm with his wife and child, than to have been dragged into "the damn war". He also goes out of his way, at times, to avoid conflict. (i.e. giving the bounty hunter a chance to "walk away," bargaining with Ten Bears rather than making war.) He remembers peace, and he wants it (as symbolized by his attraction to Sandra Locke's character). But it will always be out of his reach.

I think that Clint Eastwood is single-handedly responsible for elevating the Western to an art form higher than Greek drama. My argument is that in Greek drama, the characters are, trapped by circumstance, doomed to act in a certain way. Yet it is only at the end of the play that they realize their actions have led to their demise. In this movie, Josey Wales seems painfully aware _at every second_ that his actions will have consequences both for himself and those around him. Yet his actions are dictated by strict rules of circumstance and honor, and in any given situation his choices are pretty limited. And he knows it! How's that for tragedy? Eyes wide-open, he plays his cards the best way he knows how, and _still_ he ends the movie gutshot and estranged from the things he loves.

My favorite scene from this movie, by the way, is when he finally tracks down Captain "Redlegs" Terrell, and kills him with his own sword. In the hands of a lesser actor-director, this could have been a neat scene where scores are settled, loose ends are tidied-up, and moral satifaction is achieved. But it isn't. In the seconds after he kills his nemesis, Clint Eastwood's face momentarily conveys a sense of disgust, disappointment, and even horror at what he has just done. Revenge has been exacted, but it brings no satisfaction, and doesn't bring back the dead.

I think part of Eastwood's brilliance as a director and actor is how with just a few lines of dialogue and a glimmer of facial expression, he can communicate volumes of moral complexity. It is a minimalism that places an unusual amount of trust in the audience. Not many directors believe that audiences can follow their characters into dark and morally ambiguous places. Eastwood not only believes that they can, but that he can take them there without a lot of sissy hand-holding and unnecessary exposition.

M (1931)

Lust and bloodlust

[20 April 2007]

I would like to comment on several posting that I have read regarding the vigilante justice that the criminal underworld tries to exact on Peter Lorre's character at the end of this film. Some people have suggested that somehow the "mob" that tries to judge the serial killer is more evil than the serial killer himself. That somehow Peter Lorre's "compulsion" or "mental illness" mitigates his crime. That the "mob's" thirst for Old Testament, eye-for-an-eye justice is somehow illegitimate.

To this I say bull****. There are degrees of evil. And the last time I checked, a man who rapes and kills little girls pretty much wins the grand prize for evil. No matter what voices may or may not be telling him to do it. No matter how bad he feels afterward. What Peter Lorre's character has done to his victims is horrific, and any sympathy we have for his tortured soul should be weighed against the torture he has inflicted on his victims.

Sure, he's human. But he's a human who has raped and killed small children. Hey, maybe you feel that the death penalty is wrong. Maybe you don't feel that vigilante justice is a good idea. But the criminals do make an excellent argument: this psychopath needs to be removed from society PERMANENTLY, and the only way to absolutely, positively, guarantee this outcome is by killing him. Punishing death with more death? Yeah, it might be evil. But it's an evil that is at least comprehensible, on emotional and rational terms.

To vilify what happens in the warehouse scene as "mob justice" ignores the fact that maybe, in this case, the mob wants to do the right thing. Or at least the human thing.

Apocalypse Now (1979)

sympathy for the remake

[10/10 · 21 October 2006]

Like many people, I have mixed emotions about AN Redux. I was a devotee of the original, and I had difficulty imaging how it could be improved upon. Watching "Redux," I felt like the quality of the dialogue in the added scenes lagged behind that of the rest of the movie. Plus, rather than being inexorably pulled toward Kurtz's lair, you felt pulled off course by some of the scenes. All that being said, the added scenes do give extra insight into Willard's character. For that, I think they are worthwhile.

In the original, you see the Captain as a shell of a man, haunted by the ghosts of things he has seen and done. As he travels down the river to meet Kurtz, you know that he recognizes the similarities between himself and his intended target, but you don't as completely realize what the differences are between the two men. This is important, because the differences are what give you hope that Willard may be able to escape the insanity that has overcome Kurtz.

In "Redux," Willard displays that, though emotionally damaged, he is still capable of compassion toward other human beings (namely the PBR Streetgang crew). In the infamous Playboy bunny scene, where Willard trades 2 barrels of precious diesel fuel for 2 hours with the Playboy bunnies for his crewmates, his actions are not expedient, but they are kind. "Charlie doesn't get much R&R," Willard says earlier in the film. Yet, when he has a chance to grant his men what is basically a dying-man's wish, he does it unhesitatingly. One knows that Kurtz would not have not have done the same thing, having abandoned compassion long ago.

Similarly, the French plantation scene depicts Willard as someone who, although racked by guilt, is not so far gone that he would refuse grace, in the form of a lovely, sympathetic French woman. Although I think the dialogue in this scene is awkward and clunky, I get the point. Sex becomes a metaphor for forgiveness, grace, etc. The person who is capable of accepting grace may be able to escape with their sanity. Again, Kurtz is beyond this, but Willard might not be.

The added scene with Willard's encounter with Kurtz in the shipping container prison, surrounded by Montagnard children is also, I think, helpful in clarifying the ending of the movie. After his final, symbolic act of killing Kurtz, Willard has the chance to call in the Arclight strike, and destroy completely all traces of the compound. You sense that this is what Kurtz would have done, innocents, children, and all. Willard's turning-off of the radio back on the patrol boat is a clear rejection of Kurtz's philosophy of horror. With the addition of the scene with the children, you have a better sense of exactly what he is rejecting.

In the end, I thought for all the remake's flaws, Willard's character came out of "Redux" as more well-rounded character, with a sense of compassion and honor. Even the act of killing Kurtz comes across more clearly as an act of mercy (among its other meanings). After watching "Redux," the original film seems richer, and the ending a little less dark. For the doubters out there, my suggestion is to give "Redux" a chance (flaws and all), because it gives you an opportunity to watch the original with new eyes. Just remember the good parts, forget the bad.