Film
Troy can be divided into two halves, and the first is pretty poor. The direction is formulaic and at times cringe-worthy, while the characters are two-dimensional.
If only Brad Pitt as Achilles had spent as much time rehearsing as he had down the gym: his part seems to consist solely of staring longingly out over the ocean and occasionally uttering a few clichéd lines. Eric Bana as Hector makes the most of what he's been given but deserves better constructed roles.
Everything looks wonderful, but it would have been cheaper to buy a postcard: it is as if some producers stumbled across some nice looking scenery and, in the absence of anything else to do, thought, "Why not make a Hollywood action epic"'
Then, suddenly, as I start to wonder if I can sit through another hour of this, there's a moment that rings true, as Orlando Bloom's Paris turns tail and flees from Achilles. From here on in, Troy gets better.
Once the battle scenes start and the colours become more muted, the film improves distinctly - though we have to sit through over an hour of tedium to get there. However, while the direction is less crass, there is still a lack of invention; but at least the mise-en-scène starts to feel like more than a nicely designed set, and as Achilles drags Hector's body behind his chariot, director Petersen achieves what is probably the best and most affecting scene in the film.
But so much of it is so Americanised: victory, love, honour, heroes... the same hackneyed grand themes that Hollywood likes to propagate. None of the potential issues are explored except Achilles' obsession with fame, which is impressed into us so dogmatically during the first half of the film that his actions become totally predictable, even to those who aren't familiar with the original text.
The older actors, especially Sean Bean and Peter O'Toole, fare noticeably better with a screenplay that doesn't allow for much character depth beyond mere action film convention; Petersen would have done better to have stuck closer to the original legend and used the wealth of material on offer. There's simply no excuse for Troy to be this average.
The film should have been called Achilles; not only does it centre on him, but it also suffers from his hubris. What it lacks, unlike Peter Jackson's epic Rings trilogy, or Ridley Scott's genre reviving Gladiator, is a production team with a deep knowledge and passion for the story, rather than just for the fame gained from telling it. Troy is ultimately all the more disappointing for the waste of potential on offer
For everyone but Mel Gibson, the problem with basing films on true events is that one is somewhat limited plot-wise. This point is obligingly made by Carandiru, which never quite fills out the straight jacket of facts into a full-bodied drama.
The film is based on accounts of the Casa de Detenço prison riot of 1992 and the events leading up to it. Most of the film is occupied with informing the viewer of the stories, grievances, mundanities and eccentricities of life in Pavilion 9. The sorry tells of how the inmates ended up there and is reminiscent of the inexorable draw of violence depicted in City of God. But, though these stories are potent in their realism, Carandiru's lack of cohesion means it pales into an imitation of its Brazilian predecessor.
Individuals' histories are forced into the film in the fashion of those Friends episodes with flashbacks to amusing scenes where the characters had more hair.
As the build up to the climactic slaughter is punctured by frivolity and historical interludes, no sense of the building pressure is conveyed. Conditions in the prison were dire - 7,500 people in a building designed for half that number along with rats, knives and AIDS. In the end this contributed to the riots, but Babenco is too sentimental, softening these conditions into bittersweet asides. Instead of accentuating the contrast with the final bloodbath, this only serves to belittle the frustration felt by the inmates.
The comic marriage of diminutive health, the towering transvestite Lady Di and the final of the Pavilion 9 football cup illustrate the theme that it is in fact the prisoners who run the place. The horrifying cynicism of the climax, however, brings the bounds of this control into sharp focus.
While the film touches on the feeling of the inevitability of prison and the fear of death, loneliness and rape once there, it feels like passing the time until the ending. That's prison, though, isn't it.
Those expecting a blood soaked orgy of carnage from the inclusion of the word 'samurai' in the title of this film will be in for a surprise, but a pleasant one. Like the classic spaghetti westerns this eastern masterpiece demonstrates that what makes moments of violence interesting is the slow dance towards it. Emotionally engaging the audience serves storytelling far better than mere stylised death and dismemberment (Tarantino take note!)
Twilight Samurai tells the story of Sebei (Hiroyuki Sanada The Ring) a lower caste samurai left widowed and poverty stricken by his wife's long illness. He demonstrates real humility and resilience in his battle to sustain his two young daughters, an ailing mother and a home, during a historical period of intense political and emotional upheaval within Japanese society and culture. Sebei finds himself faced with the dual problems of his unspoken (though very much reciprocated) love for his best-friend's sister Tomoe and an assignment to assassinate another deadly samurai earned through the sword mastery he tries so hard to conceal. The story is guided along by the unobtrusive first person narration of Sebei's youngest daughter, and blends powerful themes of heroism, love, emotional introversion, ambition, power and honour - providing a parable for many of the problems afflicting present day Japan. Perfect performances and surprising realism give this film a dramatic weight so often lacking in mainstream western cinema, habitually predominated by explosions, sex and Jennifer Lopez.
This film won an impressive 12 Japanese Academy Awards and is directed by one of Japan's most prominent and prolific directors, Yoji Yamanda. It represents the pinnacle of all that Japanese cinema has to offer; visually stunning and rich in ideas and emotion.
20th May 2004