Sunday, May 16, 2004
I don't trust that horse...
As I walk down the street, random strangers often stop and ask me "Steve, I'm considering seeing Troy, but I can't tell if it's an Oscar-calibre epic or a Waterworld-esque failed epic. What should I do?" Well, I'm pleased to report that, having seen the movie, it was neither a waste of thirteen bucks nor of three hours.
Some of this may have to do with the fact that I saw it while seated to the left of legendary film commentator Roman Kotovych, who inserted his own commentary at appropriate intervals (this entry's title is what he had to say as the Trojans were dragging the Trojan Horse into Troy).
Sitting to my left, meanwhile, was Kyle Kawanami, the Students' Union's acknowledged (by this space, anyway) expert on antiquity. Kyle, in fact, has brought with him a copy of Homer's The Iliad, presumably to dissect the movie's every flaw. That Kyle wound up liking it (and frequently elbowing me to shut Roman up) was about the evening's only disappointment.
The plot was a strong point, which tends to be the case in movies adapted from works by the Western world's greatest author. The challenge for director Wolfgang Peterson was to tell the story that Homer provided in an engaging and entertaining fashion. At this, Peterson succeeds, and it's for Best Director that the film deserves an Oscar. The fights were well-choreographed and believable, the scenes flowed smoothly, and the confrontations were epic when they should be.
Additionally, this is a big budget picture that knows what to do with a big budget. From the fleet of a thousand ships launched by Helen's beauty (though, from seeing Diane Kruger's depiction of her, you sort of wonder what all the fuss was about - maybe the thousand ships were just itching to launch anyway, and were ready to use pretty well any excuse), to the numerous scenes in which army faces off against army, to the walled city of Troy itself this is a visually spectacular film, bringing ancient Agean coastal areas as effectively as Peter Jackson brought to life Middle Earth.
Not that there wasn't money wasted, mind you, especially on Brad Pitt's salary. There's one scene in the movie in which the Greeks are storming Troy while their best man, Pitt's Achilles, stands aloof and unparticipating. "Hey," commented Roman, "it's Mustafa!" (Note to non-hacks: "Hey, it's Mustafa!" is a remark that can usually qualify as being devastatingly witty in at least one part of each movie.) Those of you who know Mustafa will know that displaying a wide range of emotions isn't his forte, and the same was true of Pitt. Oh, he had variety, alright - his repertoire included Sultry, Sultry and Amused, Sultry and Tormented, Sultry and Constipated, and what appeared to be his favourite, Sultry and Topless (I need to watch Fight Club again - I was sure that he was actually able to act in that one). Screenwriter David Benioff was also an unfortunate hire, as most of the dialogue is stilted and cliche-ridden (we got the point after the first half dozen speeches about how immortality is only achieved through great deeds, thanks).
Most of the other acting was fine, with the only standout being Peter O'Toole as Priam, King of Troy. Eric Bana as Hector and Brian Cox as Agamemnon were particularily adequate. Orlando Bloom's Paris was a weenie, but Kyle assures me that that's how he should be played. Besides, argues Roman, he was prettier than Helen. Sean Bean as Odysseus is probably also deserving of a mention, as he does a rather good job of providing what little comic relief exists in the film.
Troy will probably be nominated for a best picture Oscar, which it doesn't deserve. While it's an example of cinematic story-telling at its finest, it's not much more than that. It asks no questions of its viewers, nor does it answer any. The movie seems content, à la Tennyson's Light Brigade, to accept that it makes perfect sense for some of the world's greatest men to hack each other to pieces over little to nothing, without bothering to ask why (though this may be a good thing - reworking Troy into a modern anti-war movie would probably yield disasterous results).
If the movie is amoral, most of the characters are immoral, and Peterson resists the temptation to make one side the good guys. On balance, the Trojans generally come across as less vile than the Greeks, though one gets the sense that this is mostly because there are no Greek women close at hand to rape or Greek temples close at hand to plunder.
No review written by somebody who had sat next to Roman would be complete without relaying the following anecdote: ta female Trojan acolyte of Apollo, taken prisoner by the Greeks, puts a knife to Achilles' throat as he sleeps. Achilles dares to go through with it, and proceeds to seduce her. Roman: "All I learned from that scene is that if you put a knife to somebody's throat, you're going to wind up having sex with them."
All in all, very un-Van Helsing-esque. Besides, Kyle liked it.
|
As I walk down the street, random strangers often stop and ask me "Steve, I'm considering seeing Troy, but I can't tell if it's an Oscar-calibre epic or a Waterworld-esque failed epic. What should I do?" Well, I'm pleased to report that, having seen the movie, it was neither a waste of thirteen bucks nor of three hours.
Some of this may have to do with the fact that I saw it while seated to the left of legendary film commentator Roman Kotovych, who inserted his own commentary at appropriate intervals (this entry's title is what he had to say as the Trojans were dragging the Trojan Horse into Troy).
Sitting to my left, meanwhile, was Kyle Kawanami, the Students' Union's acknowledged (by this space, anyway) expert on antiquity. Kyle, in fact, has brought with him a copy of Homer's The Iliad, presumably to dissect the movie's every flaw. That Kyle wound up liking it (and frequently elbowing me to shut Roman up) was about the evening's only disappointment.
The plot was a strong point, which tends to be the case in movies adapted from works by the Western world's greatest author. The challenge for director Wolfgang Peterson was to tell the story that Homer provided in an engaging and entertaining fashion. At this, Peterson succeeds, and it's for Best Director that the film deserves an Oscar. The fights were well-choreographed and believable, the scenes flowed smoothly, and the confrontations were epic when they should be.
Additionally, this is a big budget picture that knows what to do with a big budget. From the fleet of a thousand ships launched by Helen's beauty (though, from seeing Diane Kruger's depiction of her, you sort of wonder what all the fuss was about - maybe the thousand ships were just itching to launch anyway, and were ready to use pretty well any excuse), to the numerous scenes in which army faces off against army, to the walled city of Troy itself this is a visually spectacular film, bringing ancient Agean coastal areas as effectively as Peter Jackson brought to life Middle Earth.
Not that there wasn't money wasted, mind you, especially on Brad Pitt's salary. There's one scene in the movie in which the Greeks are storming Troy while their best man, Pitt's Achilles, stands aloof and unparticipating. "Hey," commented Roman, "it's Mustafa!" (Note to non-hacks: "Hey, it's Mustafa!" is a remark that can usually qualify as being devastatingly witty in at least one part of each movie.) Those of you who know Mustafa will know that displaying a wide range of emotions isn't his forte, and the same was true of Pitt. Oh, he had variety, alright - his repertoire included Sultry, Sultry and Amused, Sultry and Tormented, Sultry and Constipated, and what appeared to be his favourite, Sultry and Topless (I need to watch Fight Club again - I was sure that he was actually able to act in that one). Screenwriter David Benioff was also an unfortunate hire, as most of the dialogue is stilted and cliche-ridden (we got the point after the first half dozen speeches about how immortality is only achieved through great deeds, thanks).
Most of the other acting was fine, with the only standout being Peter O'Toole as Priam, King of Troy. Eric Bana as Hector and Brian Cox as Agamemnon were particularily adequate. Orlando Bloom's Paris was a weenie, but Kyle assures me that that's how he should be played. Besides, argues Roman, he was prettier than Helen. Sean Bean as Odysseus is probably also deserving of a mention, as he does a rather good job of providing what little comic relief exists in the film.
Troy will probably be nominated for a best picture Oscar, which it doesn't deserve. While it's an example of cinematic story-telling at its finest, it's not much more than that. It asks no questions of its viewers, nor does it answer any. The movie seems content, à la Tennyson's Light Brigade, to accept that it makes perfect sense for some of the world's greatest men to hack each other to pieces over little to nothing, without bothering to ask why (though this may be a good thing - reworking Troy into a modern anti-war movie would probably yield disasterous results).
If the movie is amoral, most of the characters are immoral, and Peterson resists the temptation to make one side the good guys. On balance, the Trojans generally come across as less vile than the Greeks, though one gets the sense that this is mostly because there are no Greek women close at hand to rape or Greek temples close at hand to plunder.
No review written by somebody who had sat next to Roman would be complete without relaying the following anecdote: ta female Trojan acolyte of Apollo, taken prisoner by the Greeks, puts a knife to Achilles' throat as he sleeps. Achilles dares to go through with it, and proceeds to seduce her. Roman: "All I learned from that scene is that if you put a knife to somebody's throat, you're going to wind up having sex with them."
All in all, very un-Van Helsing-esque. Besides, Kyle liked it.
