I’m just not sure if English teachers are excited or exasperated these days. In the course of seven months, we have seen two works of classic literature brought to life for the Internet generation. They are certainly borrowing from the same page. Like 300, Beowulf opts to interpret (or reinterpret?) this classic heroes journey into a visceral, hard-driving, emotive affair that is meant to bring you top-notch moviegoing “experience” more than it is seeking to invite reflection on the hero’s choices along the way.
Using that as our standard, it is worth saying that Beowulf works. The first film I have ever seen to demonstrate an actual future for 3-D technology in film, it succeeds at captivating your attention. While other attempts in the last year at 3-D have either seemed to be mostly unnecessary, adding little to an already solid work (The Nightmare Before Christmas) or gimmicky, throwing in a few “BOO!” effects to an otherwise mediocre story (Monster House), Beowulf finally demonstrates why so many filmmakers, among them James Cameron and George Lucas, have been touting 3-D as the future for blockbuster cinema. Here, the 3-D experience coupled with the high-level animation invites you into a world that is just enough like our world to be familiar, but different enough to keep us watching. When the gimmick effects come, and yes they do throw a few things at you in this one, they seem to just fit better to the grand-scale of the epic. Whether this is the “future of the filmmaking” is beyond me, but this film convinces me that we will be seeing more of this, and with good promise.
Oh, and there is a story here too. Kind of. Beowulf takes us to the early days of a courageous and brave young hero, who already is creating legends with his victories. He comes to the aid of a kingdom who is being attacked by a local monster, one with a story far more insidious than our hero know. The love-child of the king’s “deal with the devil,” this monster must be beaten, but even as he is, Beowulf is invited to make the same compromises that this king has made. He has pursued victories in the vain pursuit of glory and honor, and here in this battle, is finally given the offer that will secure his darkest dreams.
As one of the great stories of classic literature, this is obviously an epic story worthy of epic treatment. Here is where the film encounters its more severe limitations. The nature of the animation and the 3-D experience invite us to consider the “epic” nature of this film, but the story necessarily cuts short the hero’s character arc. Some of the most interesting parts of his story, namely seeing him slowly work through the consequences for the sins of his past, is completely absent, as the tale abruptly skips over huge portions of this hero’s life. This is understandable given the cost realities of digital animation. But in choosing to do this kind of story, the film is quickly standing on the shoulders of Lord of the Rings (or merely “the Trilogy” for fantasy buffs with to little appreciation for Star Wars), a film that understood better than about any other just what “epic” really means. While it stands on those shoulders, it fails to live up the promise of contemporary fantasy epic. We’re told to expect “epic” because of the novel technology, but the story opts instead for a sound-bit approach.
Despite this criticism, Beowulf, like 300, has an interesting place in our contemporary film diet. If you want to see the big dollars thrown at special effects that are intensely engaging and fascinating, both films succeed in the payoff. You can get a great experience, you may just have to search elsewhere to find the meaning in the journey. That the moral instincts of the film are largely sound, seeing a hero bear the consequences for bad choices, just makes us look forward to the time when costs would allow them to give more time to the story.
Take it for what it is, but be careful not to make more of it than you ought.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
American Gangster: A Review
I think American Gangster is a film that wants you to feel conflicted. On the one hand, it is a difficult film to like. In it, you watch the ascendancy of Frank Lucas, a North Carolina native turned Harlem criminal who rose from obscurity to captain New York’s heroin empire in the late days of the Vietnam war. In watching this ascendancy, we watch a man who succeeds by force of a fierce personality who can boldly gun a rival down in the middle of the street surrounded by witnesses. He had a business acumen that exhibited itself in a remarkable creativity that allowed him to deliver a purer product to the streets for half the cost, destroying the profitability of the rival (mostly Italian) gangs. This allowed him to succeed at a dark and seedy game which produced wealth as it destroyed the lives of those who consumed its products and their friends and family.
At the same time as we watch this climb to success, we have to see the lives of those who are tasked to bring him down. Law enforcement personnel that were involved in these events have threatened lawsuits over the film, and I can certainly understand why. The law enforcement of this film are universally repulsive, embracing a culture of kickbacks and corruption and showing open revulsion at anyone within their ranks that might show signs of integrity or character. The threats of lawsuits of course depend much on the veracity of these assertions, but I know I certainly wouldn’t want to be associated with the law enforcement of this film.
On the other hand, American Gangster is a difficult film to hate. Combining the strong direction of Ridley Scott and the exceptional acting of Russell Crowe and Denzel Washington, we are seeing masters of their craft take us through this journey. Lucas’ rise to success is as captivating as it is challenging. We are drawn into the world of early-70’s Harlem in a vivid way, and for what it is, it is a great ride. Beyond the excellence of the filmmaking, the story itself takes decidedly unconventional turns, turns that for my money work well to complement a difficult story. It begins with a decidedly Hollywood interpretation of the world, with Crowe playing the fiercely heroic Richie Roberts who, despite a mess of a personal life, is devoted to the cause of justice and determined to find the bad guys both within the police ranks and out on the street. This idealism leads him down a tangled journey until he stumbles on the rising star of Frank Lucas. While the film could have ended with the obligatory capture of Lucas, it doesn’t, and as it does, it invites into a much more complex picture of the characters and the story.
Among the criticism the film has received, some of the most fascinating has come from black film critics. While overall the reception has been very strong, there are a large number of black critics that have been especially dismissive of the film. Arguing that the film paints Frank Lucas and his lifestyle in too positive a light, some worry about its impact, as impressionable young men see the film and aspire to emulate Lucas’ success. They worry that Lucas will now become the hero of a new generation of criminals.
Their concerns are not without base. The Frank Lucas of American Gangster is a remarkably charming person. The casting alone can tell you that, as you’d struggle to find more than a handful of names with more charisma in Hollywood that Denzel. In Lucas’ story, you see a rags to riches that is built on hard work and innovation, and at times the consequences of this climb, or the horrific social cost that it is built on, seems to get only subtle allusions. In that, one might conclude that Scott is simply being irresponsible with his material, playing to our base emotions in providing us with a sadistic success story.
On the other hand, I am persuaded that Scott’s portrait is much more complex, and may simply reflect the reality of the story. After seeing the movie, I read several interviews with Frank Lucas and with people who knew him. It was an eerie portrait, as I encountered time and again the testimonies of people who had direct knowledge of his crime, even some who prosecuted him (including Richie Roberts himself) and men that sat on the bench for his cases who proclaim their affection for him. If Denzel offers the portrait of an evil man who is hauntingly charming, it seems that he is only reflecting the person he is trying to depict.
That Scott allows this portrait to emerge about Lucas strikes me as an important choice that elevates the film and its commentary. It would be easy for us to dismiss a Frank Lucas, whose rise to power is so despicable and whose “industry” is so clearly evil. But his rise, a climb to power that saw him rubbing elbows with leaders in entertainment and politics, was not done despite his personality, but often because of it. Indeed, the real portrait of evil itself is not unattractive, but in truth it is the attractions of evil that make it so alluring. If we are to be real about the truth of sin and evil in our lives, we would understand that temptation exists precisely because it is tempting.
American Gangster challenges us to consider the nature of evil in our own lives and the reality of temptation. We might look at Lucas’ rise to power and find his temptations easy to resist, but as we are drawn into his life, we are forced to recognize that we have our own temptations that seduce and call to us as well. We are not immune.
At the same time as we watch this climb to success, we have to see the lives of those who are tasked to bring him down. Law enforcement personnel that were involved in these events have threatened lawsuits over the film, and I can certainly understand why. The law enforcement of this film are universally repulsive, embracing a culture of kickbacks and corruption and showing open revulsion at anyone within their ranks that might show signs of integrity or character. The threats of lawsuits of course depend much on the veracity of these assertions, but I know I certainly wouldn’t want to be associated with the law enforcement of this film.
On the other hand, American Gangster is a difficult film to hate. Combining the strong direction of Ridley Scott and the exceptional acting of Russell Crowe and Denzel Washington, we are seeing masters of their craft take us through this journey. Lucas’ rise to success is as captivating as it is challenging. We are drawn into the world of early-70’s Harlem in a vivid way, and for what it is, it is a great ride. Beyond the excellence of the filmmaking, the story itself takes decidedly unconventional turns, turns that for my money work well to complement a difficult story. It begins with a decidedly Hollywood interpretation of the world, with Crowe playing the fiercely heroic Richie Roberts who, despite a mess of a personal life, is devoted to the cause of justice and determined to find the bad guys both within the police ranks and out on the street. This idealism leads him down a tangled journey until he stumbles on the rising star of Frank Lucas. While the film could have ended with the obligatory capture of Lucas, it doesn’t, and as it does, it invites into a much more complex picture of the characters and the story.
Among the criticism the film has received, some of the most fascinating has come from black film critics. While overall the reception has been very strong, there are a large number of black critics that have been especially dismissive of the film. Arguing that the film paints Frank Lucas and his lifestyle in too positive a light, some worry about its impact, as impressionable young men see the film and aspire to emulate Lucas’ success. They worry that Lucas will now become the hero of a new generation of criminals.
Their concerns are not without base. The Frank Lucas of American Gangster is a remarkably charming person. The casting alone can tell you that, as you’d struggle to find more than a handful of names with more charisma in Hollywood that Denzel. In Lucas’ story, you see a rags to riches that is built on hard work and innovation, and at times the consequences of this climb, or the horrific social cost that it is built on, seems to get only subtle allusions. In that, one might conclude that Scott is simply being irresponsible with his material, playing to our base emotions in providing us with a sadistic success story.
On the other hand, I am persuaded that Scott’s portrait is much more complex, and may simply reflect the reality of the story. After seeing the movie, I read several interviews with Frank Lucas and with people who knew him. It was an eerie portrait, as I encountered time and again the testimonies of people who had direct knowledge of his crime, even some who prosecuted him (including Richie Roberts himself) and men that sat on the bench for his cases who proclaim their affection for him. If Denzel offers the portrait of an evil man who is hauntingly charming, it seems that he is only reflecting the person he is trying to depict.
That Scott allows this portrait to emerge about Lucas strikes me as an important choice that elevates the film and its commentary. It would be easy for us to dismiss a Frank Lucas, whose rise to power is so despicable and whose “industry” is so clearly evil. But his rise, a climb to power that saw him rubbing elbows with leaders in entertainment and politics, was not done despite his personality, but often because of it. Indeed, the real portrait of evil itself is not unattractive, but in truth it is the attractions of evil that make it so alluring. If we are to be real about the truth of sin and evil in our lives, we would understand that temptation exists precisely because it is tempting.
American Gangster challenges us to consider the nature of evil in our own lives and the reality of temptation. We might look at Lucas’ rise to power and find his temptations easy to resist, but as we are drawn into his life, we are forced to recognize that we have our own temptations that seduce and call to us as well. We are not immune.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)