December
12, 2003
Cold Mountain
is like a new book of poetry. Some pages you cherish, some you never
bother reading a second time and some just don’t make any sense.
When Anthony
Minghella told me that Malick’s The Thin Red Line and Olmi’s
The Tree Of Wooden Clogs were his key inspirations going into
the tone of his film, I could see what he was trying to do with the
movie. I had to go out and find a 25-year-old videotape of The Tree
of Wooden Clogs to be sure. But there are images from the 1978 film
that are clearly reflected in Cold Mountain, as are some of the
conceptual conceits of The Thin Red Line…a film I adore, by the
way.
But in adapting
the Charles Frazier book Minghella strayed, in my eyes, from
what made both of those films so great. Both films were absolutely focused
on their unique visions. Cold Mountain wants to have it both
ways. It wants to be a tough, ruthless tale of desperation in wartime,
but it also wants to be an epic love story and it wants to be a beautiful
“Hollywood” movie with movie star turns and perfect lighting and images.
( I guess that’s three ways.) It strikes me that Minghella, as a director,
was sticking himself in the same place as the characters in his film,
perfect on the surface and raging underneath. Unfortunately, very rarely
can a director - no matter how talented - get away without picking a
clear, singular perspective.
So what we get in
Cold Mountain is Nicole Kidman, Renee Zellweger and Phillip
Seymour Hoffman playing to the back row, Jude Law going completely
internal, Brendan Glesson being the only character with perfect
pitch, the great Ray Winstone being well drawn but undefined
as a character, Kathy Baker left unchallenged and Eileen Atkins
stealing her scene as a character right out of the best moments
of Olmi and Malick, simply being instead of indicating.
The journey that
Jude Law’s character takes does not feel epic, only dangerous.
I don’t know the book, but it’s as though every supporting character
that Minghella put in the movie didn’t have enough screen time so he
extended their scenes beyond our caring. Only the opening battle sequence
is just long enough. That sequence is as beautiful and powerful as anything
ever put on film, including the opening of Saving Private Ryan.
It doesn’t grab the audience in the same way as Ryan, but its comment
on the ugliness of war is every bit as strong. But the war is over for
us as viewers about 20 minutes in. After that, it’s all about roaming
vigilantes who never even ask whether someone is a deserter or what
their status is. They shoot first, ask questions never.
After he leaves
the war, Law’s scenes are the road trip home. I could forgive a lot
of the problems with the journey if Minghella stuck to the magic moments
he gets. For instance, Natalie Portman has an incredibly powerful
moment with Law as a woman who hasn’t been touched by a man in so long
that a simple touch of the hand makes her break down. It is a great
moment about the absence of loved ones during any war or time of stress.
But then there was a whole sequence built onto her story after that
which repeated the least interesting and most obvious theme in the film,
man’s inhumanity to man.
This keeps coming
up over and over - and the truth is, it’s meaningless. This is not a
movie about bad guys. The harshness of the time is real enough, but
that is not what this movie is about. It is a movie about the journeys
of our individual lives and the ultimate power of love.
This is the movie
theme of 2003. The journey - usually involving death - that takes one
to a place of peace. Lord of the Rings, House of Sand & Fog,
In America, Mystic River, 21 Grams, Big Fish, The Last Samurai, Man
on The Train, Swimming Pool, Matrix Reloaded/Revolutions… even Calendar
Girls and Finding Nemo! They are all on this track. I suppose
most movies are journeys, but the journeys are more literal this year
and death is oddly a requirement of enlightenment.
I guess that takes
me to my core problem with Cold Mountain. In the end, the only
character who really gets an arc is Kidman’s Ada. And that small journey
is not worthy of so grand an enterprise.
The heart of Cold
Mountain is Ada growing into a “real woman” in the face of the war
and her personal losses. Inman’s journey really doesn’t change who he
is, regardless of the speech late in the movie that suggests otherwise.
His actions, which we see as an audience, are very much the same. On
the other hand, Ada really has changed. But how does the change in her
change – or not change - her love for Law’s Inman? Who is Ada as the
story evolves? We never really find out.
The fact is, the
surface overwhelms the subtext. Renee Zellweger seems like she
is going to burst out in “I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No” or break
out some fresh cornpone for Jethro, Jed and Ellie May at any second.
She ends up with some well played dramatic moments, but it is too late.
Nicole Kidman as a 30-year-old virgin in 1864 requires some explanation
other than “every man wants her.” Recovery from things like these is
possible, but pretty tough.
It feels as though
the film veers between too much and not enough.
Too much is the
Giovanni Ribisi sequence, which mixes the idea of an unexpected
betrayal and Homer’s sirens. The ideas really don’t belong together…
which is not to say that Minghella doesn’t make a well-thought-out,
handsome effort. But the idea of “no good deed goes unpunished” and
the meaning of seduction do not flow naturally into one another.
Not enough, for
example, is the lack of exploration in the meaning of deserting the
Confederate army.
There are many beautiful
moments in Cold Mountain. Some are among the most beautiful ever
put on film. But the depth of this romantic journey seems to be reaching
for greater themes that it never quite reaches. And in failing to reach
the greater themes, it manages to miss the intimate ones as well.
Minghella is one
of the best directors in the world today. But he comes up short this
time out. It happens to the best of them.
READER
OF THE DAY:
THE CATALOG MAN
writes: “I consider myself an avid filmgoer, but color me disinterested
at all of the talk of hirings and firings. Yes, Michael Eisner should
probably not be the honcho at Disney for a number of reasons (one of
them is that he reminds me of my old dentist...never a good thing),
but is this the best time to be pointing the finger? Disney is having
a great year, ABC's failures notwithstanding. Can you say "the
top 2 movies at the box office?" With Finding Nemo and Pirates
of the Caribbean also being Oscar contenders, and the DVD's of those
two doing phenomenally, it's almost as if Roy Disney thought the train
hadn't left the station.
Also, having finally
seen The Missing, it's clear that Ron Howard has changed dramatically
in his style and he hasn't changed at all. The movie is great, but it's
extremely formulaic. Everything in it can be predicted to an exact science;
it just helps that you have Tommy Lee Jones and Cate Blanchett on the
screen (and the cinematography is also a boost).
Finally, the answer
is: No, it's not wrong to have watched a screener of POTC. I just re-watched
it on DVD, and found more to treasure about Johnny Depp's performance
and the film in general (is it too much to hope that Depp and Jack Black
could get nominations for Oscars?). It may not be a masterpiece, but
it's great entertainment, and sometimes you need that.”
FIBS writes:
“See, I'm not the only one that feels this way about Uma! I saw Kill
Bill again the other night at a screening followed by a talk with Uma.
One thing that I picked up on the movie, is Tarantino's use of sound.
Check out the Viveca A. Fox sequence when they're walking on broken
glass and then on cereal. As for Uma herself, in person the woman is
beyond beautiful. There is something about her that is luminescent.
It is silly that
because of these dopey awards, I should feel obligated to bring up Charlize
Theron's performance. It is insidious that these awards should turn
them into horse races. However, it is understandable in the case of
a Monster. The best actress Oscar could make that movie a $200 million
worldwide grosser when all is said and done. That's what someone from
Lion's Gate told me how much Monster's Ball has grossed from all markets
and venues. (Just think if they'd had a video game!)”
GREEN IN AMERICA
writes:
“I'm beginning to hate the little red dots. The print tracking dots.
They're generally fairly invisible, but hit a sequence with a lot of
"white space", say the storm in Master and Commander, and
there's no missing them. Then it becomes a kind of Chinese water torture
waiting for the next one to pop-up. I go from being wrapped up in the
story to looking for the damn dots.
Don't they see that
they're essentially pre-scratching a $10,000 print? Is the value they
get in prosecutions and deterrence really so great as to be worth that?
I think they're badly underestimating how discerning and demanding moviegoers'
eyes have become.
I went and saw the
extended edition of Fellowship of the Ring last night and the red dots
were all over it. Come on. This thing has been out on DVD for over a
year. Who is going to risk taking a video camera into a theater to capture
that? I have to wonder how thoroughly they're thinking this thing out.”
E
ME: What will you be seeing this weekend?