Tag Archives: the duellists

Apocalypto (2006)

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Apocalypto starts with an indigenous tribe being enslaved by Mayans. Their village is destroyed, and they’re dragged in bonds to the city, passing sights of mining, deforestation, and open sewage. They’re taken up to the highest point of the city where a member of the tribe, Jaguar Paw, gets free; then he runs down the mountain back to the jungle chased by his captors.  Speckled throughout is a wild tableau of extreme violence and emotionally visceral moments. Fans of heads getting caved in, heads getting chomped by jaguars, heads getting rolled down stairs, or heads sitting silently impaled atop spikes should know that there are few films that deliver head destruction with such gusto.

All of this is portrayed in an unsettlingly bloodthirsty manner while still feeling painful to the viewer, something of a trademark in Mel Gibson’s films. Much like in The Passion of the Christ (2004) you get the sense that Mel strongly believes in both meting out and receiving punishment. Unlike Passion which is fairly static in terms of movement (Christ walks slowly up a hill while getting torn to pieces for an hour), Apocalypto uses the framework of an action movie to make a film about societal and personal inertia that through the presence of its movements and themes, becomes an almost beautiful statement composed of transcendental brutality.

Apocalypto bakes its theme and movement into its structure, a rare thing in action movies, but another strong contemporary example is Mad Max: Fury Road (2015).  I like to think of Fury Road‘s structure as a rubber band – Furiosa pulling against societal restraints with such accelerating power that her whole world has to stretch with her. Once she realizes that she can’t break free, the tension on the rubber band is let loose and she snaps back towards the society that formed her with all the force built by her journey remaking it completely.

Though Apocalypto also embeds large portions of its meaning in it’s movement and structure, it possesses a much more cynical take on civilization and the fruits of exertion. Here the family is sacred, but beyond that, people are only capable of consuming one another. So while Jaguar Paw does move and pull the world with him, first dragged in chains up towards civilization then running free towards the jungle and the civilization’s eventual destruction, he isn’t able to change anything.  He regains his family, and gains insight into what civilization can be based on his experience traveling through the Mayan city. This gives him the wisdom to avoid what the film shows in its final moments.

I strongly disagree with Gibson’s central premise here, of an endless cycle of linear decline and destructive consumption, and subscribe more to Fury Road’s elastic view of history. I also recognize there isn’t a great deal of separation between Gibson’s personal life and his art, both chock full of abuse and anti-semitism (no opportunities for anti-semitism in this one, though it generally seems impossible for him to make a film without long stretches of insane levels of suffering and violence). Apocalypto‘s intensely surreal focus on its central premise and undeniable driving force make it a film I just can’t shake though, and to say otherwise would be dishonest. When I found out we were going to review this movie I realized that I’ve been slowly picking away at it in my head over the years since I first watched and that most of the review was more or less written.  There’s not many movies I can say that about, but for better or worse Apocalypto is one of them.

Apocalypto‘s a jungle exploitation action movie with nonstop bizarre, lurid violence made by a notorious Hollywood racist, but it’s also chock full of beautiful cinematography, and rides on one of the tightest, most kinetic narratives I’ve seen in a movie in a while… despite a bad script. The Amazon in hyper-saturated digital green looks great – the slow zooms into the understory make similar images on film in better movies look positively funereal by comparison. Yet they’re nonetheless the better movies.

Consider the script, deployed in Mayan, in service to surface-level verisimilitude that’s supposed to be “awesome” but that you’re definitely not supposed to look at too closely. I appreciate and endorse the idea that spoken language itself can and should be used to advance a film’s overall style agenda – that the affect of the sound of words can be more important overall to the world of a movie than “understanding what the characters are saying” (cf. Chewbacca). But you still need a good script if you’re trying to tell a story with language, and Apocalypto‘s is such that I had the feeling that the movie would be better with subtitles off. Compare with The Duellists, where Harvey Keitel’s bizarro Brooklyn accent positively rings out in uncaring conflict with the end of the 18th century – the disjunction fares better there because the script is actually pretty good. When I showed this text to Davey, he said his favorite line in the movie happens when a tree almost falls near a Mayan, and the Mayan yells, in Mayan Pacino-mode, “I’m walkin’ here!”

The narrative, on the other hand, is a there-and-back-again where the main guy gets dragged to the top of a ziggurat, gets saved by a deus ex machina, and then runs the whole way back. Structurally it’s super effective – the whole front half is like a spring tensing, setting up references and signposts, and then the back half is explosive movement back past a distorted version of everything that came before. I found it amazing and disorienting that this aspect of the movie was so well-constructed while the script itself was so throwaway.

In total I file this under “I don’t recommend it but I’m glad I watched it.” If you want “native man in a native-language-only mythical running movie,” Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner (2001) is a way, way better Inuit take on this model; for “power/violence/desecration in a hell reality” you might as well go all the way to Salo (1975); for Amazon mindmelts, I still like Embrace of the Serpent (2016). But if you feel this ButRic video (which remixes the movie’s best scene) as much as I do, and can stomach a gnarly curiosity, you might want to follow the feeling.

The Duellists (1977)

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Ridley Scott’s first film The Duellists is a deep dive into the dueling subculture prominent in the French military of the early 1800s.  It’s almost entirely about two guys: Armand (Keith Carradine) is pretty ambivalent about the whole dueling thing but continues to participate because it’s more or less the thing you did back then. Carradine brings a really nice laid back vibe to proceedings, complete with California accent and something of a light Wiley Wiggins vibe.  The other guy, Gabriel (Harvey Keitel) brings a heavy Harvey Keitel vibe and Brooklyn accent, which gives the film a real nice “East coast vs. West coast” feel. There’s lots of great early 1800s fashion, a fact underlined when the sparse narration refers to “the passing of 5 years and a change in military fashion,” after which cute braids are replaced by large hats.  Which is to say, the film is both very concerned with period trappings and not taking itself too seriously.

After the initial duel is kicked off, we follow both men through the years as Gabriel continually looks for new opportunities to get into duels with Armand.  According to military rules they can only duel when they aren’t actually actively at war, and are the same rank. This leads to a beautiful recurring gag: we see Armand at ease, learn his rank, see him have a conversation where someone mentions that Gabriel was recently promoted to the same rank, see Armand find out Gabriel’s in town, and then see him get roped into a duel.  And the duels are great, escalating in weaponry and danger, and full of good duel jokes, a style of humor I was barely aware of before this film, but of which I now crave more.

In between the many duels are portraits of the life of a French soldier in the early 1800s, snapshots which run the gamut from having a pipe with your buds, talking about how cool it is that you’re going to war (so you don’t have to fight a duel with Gabriel), to freezing to death in Russia.  There’s a kind of underlying madness to all of them, which helps make Armand’s obligation to keep dueling even though he’s just not that into it plausible. This is a world where there are rules to be followed that are designed to stave off the world’s brutality and chaos, even if those same aspects are the byproducts of the rules themselves. This is perfectly illustrated in a moment where Gabriel is told to walk west at the beginning of a duel and he quickly scans the sky just to make sure he knows exactly where due west is before heading out, neatly saying everything the film is telling you about its “rules over life” mentality in a wordless moment.

In terms of films about two dudes, one who can’t get enough of dueling the other, and another who is just not that into it anymore, The Duellists delivers big time.  It’s got a pretty strong “one or no duels is probably enough” message which we could all use, but more importantly it’s a super funny weird-ass period piece that features Harvey Keitel wearing cute braids.  Great film for those of you consumed with vengeance or deeply exasperated by the people seeking it.

Sometimes someone makes something that too closely and uncritically borrows or even openly steals from someone else’s idea. This is “bad” in two ways – it’s bad for the original, which the derivative cheapens thru lesser repetition, and it’s bad for the derivative, because strongly-foregrounded influence obscures whatever unique material might actually be hiding in there. Ridley Scott has made 25 movies, but his first one here is stone-cold Barry Lyndon (1975) worship straight off the rip. Made just two years before, that movie’s influence is absolutely present and unsynthesized here, in a manner that in painting, comics, or fiction, would read as hackish and embarrassing in the worst and most obvious way.

I happily found the results much more complicated here. Barry Lyndon is an optically mind-blowing but dramatically unconcerned piece of source material, and Ridley Scott is a decent stylist who tries to make popular movies with oomf and pizazz. So on one hand, The Duellists is super interesting and strange when viewed with its relationship to its inspiration directly in mind: The zoom-outs, the narrator, the Nora Brady appearance, the occurrence of the word “chevalier,” the lighting, cinematography, and even character voicing are all at least a full grade below, but the sum it manages is “bizarro remix,” not “wack bite;” it’s definitely “in conversation,” an uncanny illumination of what sets Barry Lyndon apart from pretty much everything. And on the other hand, The Duellists is a period story with oomf and pizazz that’s fun and funny and not like Barry Lyndon at all.

In that movie, we have an absolutely opaque Harvey Keitel (inexplicably in full Brooklyn mode, though in Napoleon’s army in the late 18th/early 19th century) picking a fight with Keith Carradine over some bullshit, and insisting on resolving it with a duel. The duel keeps getting interrupted and punted to a later date because one or the other guy keeps getting too injured to continue dueling, but without dying completely enough for the fight to be resolved. Carradine understandably gets super bummed every time Keitel pops back up to finish the engagement, and man does he keep popping back up over the course of changing circumstance and rank. The duel goes on for 16 years. No lessons are learned and nothing changes.

My favorite part was how nice the the sword-fighting felt. The sabres have a danger and weight that feels unusually rare, to the point of making me feel alert to how choreographed and risk-free sword-fighting usually looks on screen. There’s a part where a chunk of Carradine’s shoulder is hanging off, and another part where he nervously sneezes; both great. There’s also a gruesome “winter hellzone Russia death march” scene that’s got a Dreams (1990) / Marketa Lazarova (1967) vibe, with everyone staggering around wrapped in burlap and clutching themselves, which I always love to see.

I tried to get a better, non-Lyndon-oriented feel for this one on a by watching Black Rain (1989), Scott’s “Michael Douglas as a complete asshole NYC bad-boy cop in Osaka” movie (extremely bad), and The Duchess (2008), an unrelated 18th century peerage movie with an emphasis on gorgeous wigs where Kiera Knightley gets into a bad marriage with Ralph Fiennes (who I love and am probably about to watch in Wuthering Heights (1992)) (not bad but not great). But I’m already over word count here so I’ll abruptly conclude with the basic verdict that The Duellists is a relatively very good period movie (though it’s not the best one as much as it tries), as well as a relatively very good Ridley Scott movie, and that I would like to see a supercut of all period drama scenes where “a carriage rolls up to a manor house, and someone gets out of it while the servants watch expectantly.”