The Lindsay Brothers

Month: November 2010

  • The Mission

    Extraordinary
    Adventure
    91

    If you were to just read the title The Mission you might assume that it’s about Jean-Claude Van Damme being forced to enter an illegal underground martial arts tournament and eventually triumphing to earn his glory. But you would be wrong. That film was titled The Quest, which is close. And in fact approximately 5 years earlier when it first came out it was called Bloodsport. Instead though, The Mission is actually just a story about a Mission. Like, mission as in a place.

    Forty Points if you can tell me if this is from Bloodsport or The Quest.

    The epic grandeur of the movie The Mission is due a lot to the ridiculous beauty of South America, but its watchability derives a lot of its power from the performances of Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons. They are both master actors and it shows here. Too often master actors are bored and so they get what they like to think of as … “creative.” If you need an example of this, look no further than Johnny Depp’s post Jack Sparrow performances whereby he tried to play Willy Wonka as Michael Jackson.

    Or the time he played the Mad Hatter as Belatrix Lestrange.

    Its almost as if, for those whose talent comes naturally to them, they insist on their talent being something more than talent. In an effort to emphasize the level of hard work and determination they put into their jobs, Great Actors sometimes get a bit … how shall I say … weird. Both DeNiro and Irons have been known to do this. Because the script by Robert Bolt gives them both something to play, however, they don’t have time to create funny gerbil voices and the like. Both of them are “Method” actors but at least here it doesn’t hinder them this may also be due to the fact that it’s hard to make Jesuit priests glib and hip.

    Whatever you do, don't smile.

    Robert De Niro plays a character who (almost justifiably) kills his own brother and is so torn up about it (even though his brother kinda had it coming), that he becomes a Jesuit monk. This would seem like punishment enough, but as even further punishment he has to hang around with Jeremy Irons for the rest of the movie. Also because the titular Mission is located atop the stunning Iguaza falls, De Niro (again as penance for killing his brother–who deserved it) must climb to the top carrying a heavy bundle of supplies. Much like Santa must do every Christmas.

    One of the monks, played by the ever-awesome Liam Neeson, has pity on him and cuts it away from him as he struggles to climb the treacherous mountain pass. To his great astonishment De Niro just ties the bundle back on his back and continues to climb the mountain until he reaches the top where he is forced to enlist in an illegal martial arts tournament for the souls of the native children (not really).

    He eventually develops a great rapport with the children in the mission and all seems peaceful until a messenger from the Vatican arrives and plans on closing their mission because of a treaty with Portugal. De Niro does not like this and because he has a shadowy pre-Jesuit past of running guns, he plans to stage a fight for the mission. This is probably the extent of the action that can be found in the film.

    It was shot on location with stunning visuals supplied by the cinematographer Chris Menges who won an Oscar for his work. The music by Ennio Morricone is also one of the more well known pieces of film music out there if you get a chance give a listen to the track called “Gabriel’s Oboe” do so.

    Oh yeah, it also won the Palme D'or.

    Strong visuals, an excellent musical score, and the ever-awesome Liam Neeson are all well and good, but they can sometimes pale in comparison to two men atop a mountain waterfall in the middle of the South American jungle attempting to defend a mission that has saved both of their lives.

    Next up … ninety.

  • Don Quixote

    Extraordinary
    Adventure
    92

    As Don Quixote teaches us, there is nothing wrong with the world that can’t be cured by reading books and then pretending that you are the characters in them.  Have we not all be doing this since childhood?  Most of us grew out of it, but old D.Q. is like the 17th century Spanish version of the Star Wars Kid:  still out there spinning his fake lightsaber for all the world to see.

    Darth Windmill is his father.

    Don Quixote has what is politely referred to as an “overactive imagination,” and he is what is scientifically referred to as “nutty as a Scientologist.”  His library is well stocked with stories of knighthood and chivalry, and these books convince him to become a knight-errant.  Hey, I have lots of Hardy Boys books, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to become a teen detective.  For one thing, I don’t own a jalopy.

    The novel by Miguel de Cervantes is at once both high adventure and ludicrous comedy, aptly aided by sly pretentions that it is historically accurate, or at least based on historical accuracies.  Cervantes even goes so far as to acknowledge that the book is much more simple than traditional stories of high adventure, in that it contains no ballads or Latin phrases.  These, he explains, can always be added later—instantly endearing himself to those of us who find such pretenses absurd.

    It may not look it, but the horse is as old as he is.

    No matter Quixote’s lofty goals for himself, the predicaments that he finds himself in are hysterical.  Witness his dinner with the prostitutes, who he thinks are princesses.  They remove his armor, but his helmet is stuck, so he eats with it on, presumably with the flimsy makeshift visor open.

    A sturdier piece of equipment I could not devise.

    People are constantly trying to swindle him, only to find out he has no money.  When his family frets about what to do with some 50-year-old uncle gallivanting across the countryside and crashing his old plow horse into windmills, their solution is to burn the library so that he’ll give up this nonsense.

    Only one problem with that:  The library is extensive and stocked with rare and priceless tales.  In the end, they merely decide to burn only the poetry books, because the only thing worse than an uncle who thinks he’s a knight is an uncle who thinks he is a poet.

    If your hair sticks out like Doc Brown, you are probably crazy.

    Now about those windmills…  It is perhaps the most famous scene from the book, and represents everything that is magical about Don Quixote, because he mistakes them for giants.  They are the perfect foe for a crazy person because presumably they can’t fight back.  That doesn’t stop D.Q. from making a fool of himself by getting his lance caught in the windmill’s sails and getting thrown off his horse.  But everyone covers nicely by telling him that an evil enchanter turned the giant into a windmill at the last second.

    In fact, this seems to be their excuse for everything.  An enchanter sealed off his library, an enchanter magicked the inn, an enchanter took his lunch money.  People, take this to heart:  If your family ever invokes the idea of an “evil enchanter” in order to protect your dignity, then it is a good sign that they probably think you are bonkers.

    Oh, sure, it's obviously this guy's fault.

    The story has its down moments, so it is not a straight up comedy.  There is definitely something pathetic about a grown man crushing on the neighborhood stable girl (who he names Dulcinea, as if she were royalty), and embarrassing everyone he knows.  Don Quixote gets beat up a lot, ruthlessly mocked, and the only reason he isn’t taken for everything he’s worth is because he isn’t worth much, in spite of the rare books.

    Even his loyal squire Sancho Panza, to whom D.Q. has promised the rulership of an imaginary island (apparently this neighborhood has a wealth of idiots), is forced to admit that his master is a bit of a dunce.  You can only defend your friends so much, before their tackling of random pilgrims or insulting of goatherds begins to make you look bad too.

    Mental issues of the hero aside, none of this changes the fact that Don Quixote of La Mancha sees the world not as it is, but as we would like it to be:  A place of fantastic adventures and lady fairs and galloping steeds.  And sometimes it’s worth it to just venture out into that fantasy world for a moment, even if our armor is made of cardboard and the stable girl is sort of ugly.

    Next up, #91!

  • The Man Who Would Be King

    Extraordinary
    Adventure
    93

    Traditionally it is rather difficult to find a good pair of buddies for a buddy movie. This is because almost any actor worth their buddy salt wants to be the hero. Eventually Matt Damon and Ben Affleck must go their separate ways. Sooner or later Butch and Sundance have that longing to star in their very own westerns. This was John Huston’s problem when he decided to make a movie based on the Rudyard Kipling short story The Man Who Would be King.

    Sadly the perfect buddy duo had already been cast

    Most of you may know John Huston as the director of such classic films as (hang on while I go look up his filmography) The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The Maltese Falcon and The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. Most of his major work was done in the 40s and 50s but he actually had quite the career.  Sometimes he even pretended to be other people for money. He seems like a swell chap.

    John Huston was originally cast as Kevin McAllister in Home Alone, but they felt that his performance was too saccharin.

    And fairly good at finding material, I might add. Somehow he got a hold of the Rudyard Kipling story and insisted on making a movie from it. This was back in the Fifties and he wanted to cast Humphrey Bogart and Clark Gable. However it was the Fifties, and Humphrey Bogart would die soon. If John Huston had known that, he probably would not have cast him. Then the rumor was that he tried to cast Butch and Sundance, aka Paul Newman and Robert Redford.  This did not work out because both Paul and Robert were deemed too Cockney. Thus he was left with James Bond and Alfie.

    How do you like my tiara?

    The plot is adventure to the extreme. It features battles and comedy in far off places such as Kafiristan, a remote part of Afghanistan. The people of Kafiristan are pagans not yet converted to Islam and they somehow know the secrets of freemasonry.  And so when Daniel Dravot (Sean Connery) appears wearing a masonic symbol, they take him for a god.  (That and the fact that he appears to be pierced by an arrow, yet is unharmed).  Sometime later this would also happen to C-3PO, who is also played by a Brit. Wouldn’t you know it though? The SAT vocab words rear their ugly head and our heros are brought low by something called (spoiler alert) “hubris” which is defined as over-weaning pride.

    Despite his over-weaning pride, C-3PO was able to use his divine influence and get them out of this.

    Besides the mistaken-for-a-god part, The Man Who Would be King features many touchstones of extraordinary adventure fiction: Far away places, British People, Decapitation, pith helmets, British People, Rope Bridges, far away places, Alexander the Great, British people and Shakira Caine (Michael Caine’s wife, both then and now).

    Next up … Ninety-two

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