PLEA
FOR KUNDUN
This is my plea to Academy members. Don't let the critics fool you. If
you want to vote for the one truly epic love story of 1997, vote for Kundun,
the story of a man who loves in the hardest way possible -- unconditionally.
It's a big bite, but Kundun delivers. It wears its true heart on
its sleeve, leaving it vulnerable to attack, but somehow safe by way of
that very vulnerability. In a year of great filmic cynicism, no movie
speaks to what's right about the human heart nearly as well.
The film is opening wide
this week, but many of you may not have even heard about it. And it
isn't winning any of these awards you keep reading about. Why? Some
insiders say Disney doesn't want to push the film too hard, fearful
of reprisals from China. Perhaps. I blame the critical community, too
wrapped up in the flow of big movie after big movie to take the time
to let this artwork flow over them instead of analyzing story points.
Kundun has no movie stars. It doesn't have the overt majesty
of an acting legend like Peter O'Toole. It isn't snappy.
This is a movie of grace
and calm. At one pivotal moment, the Dalai Lama says, "They took away
our silence." If you can find peace in silence, you'll feel in that
moment the pain that was so powerful in the eyes of Djimon Hunsou
in the otherwise forgettable Amistad, the anguish of the people
going down with the Titanic, and the hopelessness in Matt
Damon's heart in Good Will Hunting. All in one. See this
film. See it in a theater, where you can become a part of the experience.
Leave your watch and your cynicism at home. And open your heart.
E-mail me.
And check out a brand new The
Whole Picture.