Showing posts with label John Boorman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Boorman. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Zardoz


Remember that old Star Trek episode where hippies took over the Enterprise? ZARDOZ is the kind of movie those hippies might have made.

It’s a psychedelic science fiction morality tale that’s both deeply grounded in the Western liberal arts tradition and deeply distrustful of it. In the film, the world has gone to hell. Zed, played by Sean Connery, is a horseman and a raider who follows the warrior god Zardoz, who appears to be a giant flying granite head. When Zardoz takes him to an enclave of civilization (as defined by the Western liberal arts tradition), he’s horrified to see beautiful people engaged in intellectual pursuits while, on the outside, barbarians fight, starve, and die in the cold. Kind of like how a Darfur refugee might feel if a giant flying granite head transported him to Saint John’s College.

The Eloi, for lack of a better term, are better than Johnnies, however. First, their women dress like those hippies from Star Trek, but without television’s costume restrictions. That’s right – nearly all the exposition and philosophy in this movie issues from the mouths of partially clad young women. There’s your entertainment value, right there. Second, they’re functionally immortal. Third, their revelry in the western intellectual heritage appears to be confined to works taught in nearly every college prep curriculum in the English-speaking world, so the reasonably educated viewer can indulge in the fantasy that he or she is an Eloi, too.

That’s plenty of fun, and there’s a certain amount of ironic entertainment to be had with the film’s hippie vibe, but there’s something else happening here, too. John Boorman, who wrote and directed this film, is trying to make an art movie with ZARDOZ. The film opens with a Shakespeare-style prologue, given by a Feste-like character who, we later discover, has a deep love for drama. With this prologue, Boorman tells us that ZARDOZ is not supposed to be just another sci-fi romp, but a meditation on the nature of belief, the duality of man, the class system, and the dangers of shutting oneself off from the world. Sure, this is all stuff that H.G. Wells, Fritz Lang, and even Gene Roddenberry hit time and time again, but one can’t deny a certain something about Boorman’s psychedelic take on the material. By the time the Fool commits his last foolish act, we find that we’ve actually bought into the trippy world of ZARDOZ, we actually care about what happens to Zed, and we’re actually thinking about the place of higher learning in a world beset by tragedy.

All this and gratuitous nudity, to boot. Color me surprised: ZARDOZ is actually a good time at the movies. Who knew?

Friday, September 15, 2006

Point Blank

POINT BLANK is such a guy movie, they soaked the film stock in testosterone before putting it in the camera. Then they punched the lens a couple of times, just to toughen it up. This is a movie about money, broads, guns, cars, respect, and power: the source material for Mel Gibson’s PAYBACK, but with twice the grit. What a picture.

On the off chance that you’ve never before encountered either PAYBACK or POINT BLANK, here’s the setup: Lee Marvin’s been double-crossed and left for dead by a, erm, business associate who uses the money from a grab-and-go to buy his way in to the local mob. Marvin wants his money back, and there’s your movie. But this isn’t just a Bronsonesque revenge thriller; that’d be pedestrian. It’s a full-on neo-noir picture featuring femmes fatale, double- and triple- crosses, and shadowy figures who’d never waste their time telling you it’s Chinatown – buy a map, you pansy.

John Boorman directed POINT BLANK as only his second feature, but you wouldn't know it. The movie feels like the work of an old pro, and Boorman's crisp, no-nonsense direction keeps things stripped down to their basics, letting the players shine and the story move. And those players do shine. Lee Marvin had always cultivated the persona of a man who eats steel and shits bullets, and he puts that persona to excellent use here. When he tells a man, “I’m going to kill you,” we believe it - and we thank God that he isn’t coming after us, too. Angie Dickinson, who plays a woman straight out of a Dashiell Hammet novel, hits all the right notes: smooth and harsh, seductive and dangerous. She's perfect: pure movie magic in, well, nothing at all. And the villains - don't get me started.

In fact, everything about this movie is great. Even the print on this particular edition is perfect. It looks and sounds crisp, and it has every earmark of a painstaking restoration. Not only is POINT BLACK fun to watch, it’s beautiful, too. Yep, in your face and unblinking, POINT BLANK is one of the best guy movies out there. Enjoy.