Film Review: A Dry White Season (dir by Euzhan Palcy)


In 1990, Marlon Brando received his final Academy Award nomination when he was nominated for his supporting performance in 1989’s A Dry White Season.

Brando played Ian McKenzie, a human rights lawyer who lives and work in South Africa at the height of the Apartheid regime.  When we first see McKenzie, he’s sitting in his office and complaining about how all the flowers surrounding him have given him a permanent allergy.  When Ben Du Toit (Donald Sutherland) explains that he’s trying to learn the truth about why his gardener and his gardener’s son both died in the custody of South Africa’s “special branch,” McKenzie replies that bringing the case would be a waste of time.  McKenzie makes several dismissive comments about the case and tells Du Toit that pursing the matter would lead to Du Toit becoming a pariah himself.  Only when Du Toit says that he’ll just find another lawyer to pursue the manner does McKenzie agree to take the case.  His comments may have seemed callous but they were McKenzie’s way of testing Du Toit’s commitment to actually getting to the truth.

Up until the death of his gardener, Ben Du Toit was someone who blindly believed in the system.  A former rugby star and a teacher, Ben grew up in South Africa and is proud to call himself a “true African.”  (In one of the film’s best scenes, Ben’s driver, Stanley — played by Zakes Mokae, — informs Ben that being an African in South Africa means not being allowed to vote and having to carry identification papers everywhere with him.)  When the gardener’s son is first arrested, Ben repeatedly says, “He must have done something.”  When Ben’s gardener is arrested, Ben believes that it’s all just a terrible mistake and that he’ll be released soon.  Even after the gardener is killed, Ben initially believes the official story that the death was a suicide.  It’s only after Stanley takes Ben to the funeral home and shows him the gardener’s tortured body that Ben finally comes to realize that he was tortured to death by Captain Stolz (Jurgen Prochow).

Still, Ben is naive enough to assume that McKenzie will be able to get some sort of justice.  In court, McKenzie easily exposes the flaws in Stolz’s story.  When Stolz claims that the dead man’s injuries were the result of the man throwing himself against the bars of his cell, McKenzie mentions that the man’s back was injured and then asks if he was throwing himself backwards.  Stolz smirks and says that the man was “an animal.”  McKenzie may be a brilliant lawyer but it’s a foregone conclusion that he’s going to lose the case.  Stolz is exonerated and the expression on McKenzie’s face is one that indicate that he is not surprised at all.

It’s a small role.  Brando gets less than ten minutes of screentime but he makes perfect use of them and shows that, even in the latter half of his career, Brando could still give a good performance when he cared about the material.  Both Brando and Susan Sarandon took small roles in this anti-Apartheid drama because they believed in the message.  Sarandon’s casting is a bit distracting.  She never becomes the journalist she’s playing, instead she just seems like a movie star lending her name to a cause that she believes in.  But Brando becomes Ian McKenzie and he expertly reveals the absurd lengths to which the Apartheid government will go to excuse its actions.

The majority of the film deals with Ben Du Toit and his slow-awakening about the truth of the country that he calls home.  Upon realizing the truth about the country’s government and its actions, Du Toit declares that he can no longer go back to being who he once was and it costs him his family, his home, and ultimately his life.  Donald Sutherland does a wonderful job, portraying Du Toit’s growing understanding of what’s actually happening in South Africa.  Wisely, the film doesn’t portray Du Toit as being a saint.  It fully understands that Du Toit only started to care about Apartheid when it effected somebody that he knew and fortunately, Stanley is always there to call Du Toit out whenever he starts to forget about his own role in supporting the system that he now opposes.  It’s a powerful and heartfelt film, one that is well-known for Brando’s performance but works just as well when Brando is off-screen as well.

Cleaning Out The DVR: The Comedians (dir by Peter Glenville)


Not to be mistaken for the Taylor Hackford-directed, Robert De Niro-starring disaster from a few years back, The Comedians is a film from 1967 that follows several different people as they attempt to survive day-to-day life in Haiti, back when Haiti was ruled by the dictator, Papa Doc Duvalier.

Richard Burton stars Mr. Brown (Richard Burton), a deeply cynical and world-weary Englishman who owns what passes for a luxury hotel in Haiti.  Though Mr. Brown hopes to be able to sell the hotel and get out of Haiti, he is also having an affair with Martha (Elizabeth Taylor), the German wife of Pineda (Peter Ustinov), the ambassador from Uruguay.  Mr. Brown tries to avoid politics, which it turns out is not easy to do when you’re living under a murderous regime.

Complicating Mr. Brown’s life is Major Jones (Alec Guinness), a retired British army officer who has come to Haiti to do business but who is promptly imprisoned when it’s discovered that he was invited to come to the island by a minister who was subsequently declared to be an enemy of the state.  The fascist Captain Concasseur (Raymond St. Jacques) arrests Major Jones and Mr. Brown takes it upon himself to try to get Jones released.  Unfortunately, Major Jones doesn’t quite understand how serious his situation is and he’s convinced the Haitians that he’s not only a brilliant military leader but that he can also arrange for them to receive a cache of weapons, which he claims he has hidden in a Miami warehouse.

Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Smith (Paul Ford and Lillian Gish) have also arrived on the island, hoping to set up a vegetarian center in Haiti.  (Mr. Smith even once ran for President of the U.S. as the candidate of the Vegetarian Party.)  In many ways, Mr. and Mrs. Smith serve as a stand-in for clueless American activists, obsessing over minor issues while ignoring the larger problems that are right in front of their faces.

From the start, The Comedians establishes Haiti as being a dangerous place, a country where the people live in fear of the brutal police and where the poor struggle to survive day-to-day while their rulers live a life of luxury.  It’s a place where political dissidents regularly disappear, though the police aren’t above murdering people in public as well.  It’s a country where the State rules supreme, controlling the citizens through both fear and a fierce cult of personality.  Rebels like Dr. Magiot (James Earl Jones) only want the country to be free but they know that, as long superpowers like America are supporting the regime, there’s little that the rebels can realistically hope to accomplish.

A major theme running through The Comedians is that the real suffering of the Haitian people is often overshadowed by the strategic concerns of the United States.  Unfortunately, pretty much the same thing happens within the film itself.  While there’s several black actors in supporting roles, the story focuses on the white characters and, as a result, it sometimes feels like the film’s message is less about the people being oppressed and more about how unfortunate it is that people like Brown, Jones, and the Smiths are being inconvenienced by it all.  Like many similarly well-intentioned political films from the late 60s, The Comedians get so bogged down in all of the personal dramas that it loses sight of what’s actually the important part of the story.  The film is often seems more interested in Brown and Martha’s affair than in the conditions that would lead to people like Dr. Magiot risking their lives to bring about change.

For the most part, it’s a well-acted film.  Richard Burton’s natural self-loathing is put to good use and Alec Guinness has a few poignant scenes as a pathological liar who doesn’t realize how much trouble he’s actually in until it’s too late.  (Guinness also has a scene where he wears blackface and pretends to be Burton’s maid.  He does this in order to escape from the secret police and the film doesn’t treat it as being a joke but it’s still rather cringey to watch.)  Elizabeth Taylor is miscast as Martha and her German accent comes and goes but Paul Ford and Lillian Gish do a good job playing clueless Americans.  Perhaps the film’s strongest performance comes from Zakes Mokae, who doesn’t say much as a member of the secret police but who exudes menace every time that he’s on screen.  Still, as well acted at it may be, the film is slowly paced and always seem hesitant about taking any position beyond a general sense that dictatorships are bad.

That said, there’s nothing wrong with reminding people that dictatorships are bad.  That’s especially an important message today.  The past few years have left me convinced that a lot of people secretly yearn for a dictatorship and would be willing to trade their freedoms for a false sense of security.  Though the film may struggle dramatically, it’s still works as a warning about what true authoritarianism actually is.

 

Film Review: The Island (dir by Michael Ritchie)


Last night, after I watched Cutthroat Island, I continued to prepare for Talk Like A Pirate Day by watching The Island, a pirate movie from 1980.

Michael Caine has appeared in some truly bizarre films over the course of his long career but The Island may be the strangest.  (According to the imdb, it’s also one of the few films that he refuses to discuss in interviews, which is kind of amazing when you consider some of the films that Caine will discuss.)  In The Island, Caine is plays Blair Maynard, a cynical New York journalist who happens to have a cockney accent.  Looking to do a story about the Bermuda Triangle, Maynard heads down to Florida.  He takes along his 12 year-old son, Justin (Jeffrey Frank), because what father wouldn’t unnecessarily put his only child’s life in danger?  Of course, Justin isn’t happy when he finds out that his father lied about visiting Disney World but all is forgiven after Maynard buys him a gun.  Justin does love to shoot guns, which will become a plot point soon enough.

Anyway, Maynard and Justin soon discover that the reason people are disappearing in the Bermuda Triangle is because they’re being kidnapped by … wait for it … PIRATES!

David Warner and the Pirates

That’s right, real-life pirates!  Apparently, centuries ago, a group of French pirates set up a colony on an uncharted island in the Caribbean.  Now, under the leadership of the savage Nau (played by the very British and not very savage David Warner), these pirates spend their time attacking boats, murdering people, and speaking in an odd combination of English, French, and Portuguese.  However, centuries of in-breeding have weakened the bloodline.  So, while Nau brainwashes Justin and turns him into a little buccaneer, Maynard is given to Beth (Angela Punch McGregor) and told to “thrust thrust.”

Yes, that’s right.  This is a film in which a middle-aged Michael Caine — complete with his trademark glasses and his “what the bloody Hell?” attitude — is turned into a sex slave.  (Again, this is one of the few films that Caine apparently refuses to discuss.)  The scene in which Beth strips the chained Maynard naked and then starts to rub Vaseline on him would be strange regardless of who played the main role but when it’s Michael Caine, it goes beyond the merely strange to becoming almost a work of outsider art.

Anyway, the movie only gets stranger from there as Justin grows to love the pirate life style and, eventually, both he and his father even get to take part in a raid on a schooner.  It’s during this raid that, from out of nowhere, a guy in extremely tight shorts pops up and starts doing all sorts of elaborate kung fu moves.  (He also makes all of the expected kung fu sounds while David Warner has a good laugh.)  It’s also during this raid that the pirates come across several packets of white powder.

“It’s a drug called cocaine,” Maynard says.

“What does it cure?” Beth asks.

“Insecurity,” Maynard answers.

It all leads to not only an impromptu wedding ceremony but also to the sight of Michael Caine screaming his head off while firing a machine gun.  I think we’re supposed to feel that the ordeal has driven Maynard somewhat mad but it’s hard to tell.  Caine has always been open about the fact that, for many years, he basically just accepted any role that was offered to him and The Island would appear to be a perfect example.  Maynard may have been trying to rescue his son but Caine’s main concern was obviously getting his paycheck and moving on to the next role.

Michael Caine in The Island

The Island is one of those movies that’s so odd that it really doesn’t matter whether it’s any good or not.  Between the strange plot and Michael Caine’s almost comically detached performance, this one of those films that, once you start watching, you really can’t look away from it.  In the end, The Island is so weird and misjudged that it becomes brilliant despite itself.

Horror Review: The Serpent and The Rainbow (dir. by Wes Craven)


The word zombies conjures up the flesh-eating variety popularized by George Romero’s horror films and the legion of films from others soon after. Prior to 1968’s Night of the Living Dead the word zombies was synonymous more with the gothic-like horror films which took the Haitian voodoo folklore about the recently dead being brought back to life by voodoo priests to act as mindless slaves. It’s this version of the word zombie which Wes Craven decided to explore with his 1988 film adaptation of the Wade Davis non-fiction book The Serpent and The Rainbow. Wes Craven’s film fictionalizes the ideas and treatises put forward in Davis’ book and creates a film which tries to put to light the true horror which lay behind the voodoo folklore regarding zombies.

The film introduces us to the ethnobotanist character of Dennis Alan (played by Bill Pullman) who’s approached by a major pharma-corporation about researching the scientific origins and cause of the voodoo “zombie”. He heads off to Haiti at a time when it’s going through a political upheaval that would lead to the subsequent revolution that topples the dictatorship of that country’s leader, Francois “Baby Doc” Duvalier. During his time in Haiti he investigates story of a patient named Christophe who was reported dead 8 years past but seen recently walking about in a dazed manner. It’s while trying to get a handle on how Christophe was declared dead by authorities but then “resurrected” years later which brings Alan in contact with the local witch doctors who question Alan’s motives but also ridicule him for his narrow viewpoint regarding things which science cannot answer. But through persistence he finally gets one local to assist him in procuring the so-called “zombie powder” used to bring the dead back to life.

The Serpent and The Rainbow shows the real horror about zombification when Alan’s investigations and persistence to acquire the “zombie powder” brings the attention of the country’s secret police (the Tonton Macoutes) and one of it’s leaders and reported voodoo priest in Captain Dargent Peytraud (played by Zakes Mokae in a chilling performance) who warns him repeatedly not to continue. Repeated verbal warning and threats soon become more direct and physical as Alan finds out first-hand why no one in the country dares to speak of “zombies” to an outsider and why Captain Peytraud and his Tonton Macoutes were feared as if they were agents of the evil spirits of their voodoo faith.

Craven does a very good job in taking Wade Davis’ non-fiction book and creating a thrilling and suspenseful piece of horror which suggests that the lead character of Dennis Alan has stepped into a world that was steeped not just in the realm of science but also in the supernatural. The film includes some great scenes which shows Alan experiencing some very horrific nightmares which seems indistinguishable from his waking moments and vice versa. Unlike Craven’s previous work in horror which were imbued with some dark humor but always brutal in it’s depiction of everyday horror, this film rarely goes the gory route though the scenes of torture should make even the most hardened and jaded horror aficionado to squirm in their seat.

The true horror revealed by Craven’s film is the very human figure of Captain Peytraud and his Tonton Macoutes who use the local populace’s fear of “zombification” and how Peytraud has taken advantage of these people’s voodoo beliefs to control the public and keep themselves in power. It’s horror that many recognize and understand yet heightened even more with the addition of a local religious practice that’s relatively unknown and misunderstood by outsiders (especially by those in the West). The film never truly answers the question raised in the beginning of the film of whether the practice of “zombification” is wholly scientific and pharmacological in origins and cause or does religion and the supernatural has a hand in making the process occur. Even after the climactic encounter between Alan and Captain Peytraud in the end of the film only brings more questions which Craven seems to relish in not letting his film answer on either side of the discussion.

The Serpent and The Rainbow is one of those films during the 1980’s which never really got a fair shake from critics and the audience but has since gained quite a following in the years since it’s release. It’s actually one of Craven’s more subtle works during that period of time where violence in the film was the exception instead of the rule as in his past films. It’s a film which continues to gain fans as more and more younger film fans discover the film. Sometimes the word zombies doesn’t conjure up the typical flesh-eating variety but instead one even more horrific since it’s one based on real-life. Sometimes reality can be scarier than what we can conjure up in our minds. The Serpent and The Rainbow is one film which does a great job in supporting that.