Apocalypse Now - movie review

I recently watched "Apocalypse Now", Francis Ford Coppola's 1979 movie set during the Vietnam War, starring Martin Sheen, Marlon Brando and Robert Duvall, and inspired at least in part by Joseph Conrad's "Heart Of Darkness".

Of all the classic movies of that era, probably my favourite age of cinema, it has in the past been one of the most enigmatic and elusive in terms of its ability to grip my undivided attention.

To sum up the plot, Willard (Martin Sheen) is ordered by his superiors to locate and assassinate the "renegade" Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando). We follow Willard as he travels, by helicopter and boat, to Kurtz's hideout over the Cambodian border.

The narration by the Willard character is very evocative, and helps to hold the whole thing together. This aspect of the movie reminds me a little of the similar device used in "Taxi Driver".

Right from the commencement of "Apocalypse Now", one is made aware of an atmosphere of ennui, exhaustion and disorientation, created by the unreality of the experience. I think that the viewer needs to embrace this dimension of "Apocalypse Now" in order to fully appreciate it.

Of course, the Kurtz character does not appear in person until near to the conclusion of the film. Along the way, however, we learn a good deal about him, his character and his history. Willard at times develops a sense of ambivalence towards what Kurtz and his actions represent. Were his actions any more reprehensible just because they were not "officially" sanctioned?

There is something about the combat and action sequences. To me, they almost intentionally look like a movie set. Were they meant to be realistic and authentic, or were they designed to convey a sense of the chaos and confusion, the surrealistic?  These scenes, paradoxically, also have a certain symmetry and order, almost as if they were choreographed.

I must confess that I did not understand the hype surrounding the character of Kilgore (Robert Duvall). I am not being contrarian when I say that his role in the story did not really grip me or engage me. I was much more interested in Willard and Kurtz. Perhaps I am missing something?

Incidentally, the most notable line of Kilgore's is, in my view, not the "obvious" one, but the one which he utters after the girl throws a grenade into a helicopter, and he accuses his enemy of being "savages". This was a bit rich from a man who orders that napalm be dropped on defenceless peasants....

For me, the film really gets into its stride when the river journey gets under way in earnest, and the personalities, quirks and fears of the crew members rise to the fore. The river journey is punctuated by some powerful, poignant and even bizarre episodes, the latter category epitomized by the "concert". Each man goes through his own trials, anguish and voyage of personal discovery. In this sense, this picture has some similarities to road movies.

The jungle passages are beautifully shot, with clever use of natural light helping to the capture the claustrophobia and the trepidation,  as well as the beauty of the environment. Indeed, the use of light and lighting throughout "Apocalypse Now" is one of the ingredients in making up the film's impact and allure.

There has been intense debate about whether this is an anti-war movie. Anti-war sentiments are not overly pushed, but one cannot fail to be affected by the brutality and callousness occasionally portrayed. The scenes concerned get the message across more effectively and eloquently than any preachy dialogue could ever do.  I got the impression, rightly or wrongly, that any disgust expressed by the protagonists was as much directed at the decadent and aimless way in which the war was being conducted on the ground, as at the war per se.

Despite what many people say, I did not think that the climactic scenes, when Marlon Brando and Dennis Hopper enter the fray, were on a separate plane from what preceded them. Again, though, lighting is used to superb effect to evoke a feeling of menace and unreality.

It is noticeable that the Willard character remains relatively phlegmatic and dispassionate throughout most of the film, certainly in comparison to the demons and anxieties plaguing those around him. Perhaps what he had witnessed had made him impervious and hardened.

The scene where Kurtz dies of course alternates with the footage of the sacrifice of the water buffalo. Plenty of scope for seeing the symbolism of the two acts occurring simultaneously.  Both acts constituting wishful thinking, and a case of missing the point, shutting out realities?

Some people I suspect view "Apocalypse Now" as nebulous, but that surely is part of the point. It leaves us feeling bewildered, empty and unsettled. Popular perception of it as a meandering behemoth of a film is misguided. Having watched it again, I would say that it is a stunning and affecting creation, if not without its flaws. If nothing else, it is the type of movie which erases any complacency and glibness from the viewer's mind concerning the subject of war.  Its quality is all the more remarkable when one remembers the numerous difficulties endured in its production.

It is a memorable film because it is different. It is what it is.

Taxi Driver - movie review

Taxi Driver, the 1976 film directed by Martin Scorsese, and starring Robert De Niro, is not a movie to be watched for light relief, but it is immensely powerful and absorbing. It is one of the pictures which made the 1970s such a golden period for cinema. Indeed, some might argue that Taxi Driver is the quintessential Seventies movie, because it touches on so many of the themes which were central to the time - political cynicism, the fallout from the Vietnam War, urban decay, social disintegration and general ennui and stagnation.

I watched Taxi Driver again just recently, and it had lost none of its impact. Of course, the centrepiece of the work is the character of Travis Bickle, so magnificently played by Robert De Niro. Quite apart from the acting performances, the cinematography and other aspects, one of the major strengths of the project for me is the multi-faceted plot, which has a nicely ambiguous feel to it. Throughout the piece I found myself asking "what are Travis Bickle's real motives and aspirations here?"  The movie therefore is imbued with real substance and depth, and actually encourages, even forces, the viewer to think constantly.

To summarize, Bickle is a Vietnam vet who take a job as a New York taxi driver, choosing consciously to work the night-shift. He is repelled by the corrupt and sordid activities which he witnesses, and begins to nurture visions of "cleaning up" the city. The movie documents his voyage into some dark places. The "diary" format of the narrative is a clever device, and it helps to strengthen the impression of a man going through a process of change, soul-searching and torment.

I had forgotten just how vivid and evocative the night-time sequences in Taxi Driver really are, capturing the sleaze, grime and insidiousness of the the world which Bickle inhabits, all bright lights, menace, vice and shadowy figures. The opening title sequence sets things up perfectly in this respect, as does the wonderful music by Bernard Herrmann, which is a feature of the entire movie..

The most unsettling thoughts which occurred to me whilst watching Taxi Driver recently concerned the main character's state of mind and motivations. Was Travis Bickle seeking to give his life some focus and meaning?  We are also left wondering whether Bickle's deeper motivations are selfless or self-serving .Perhaps there are both positive and negative consequences of alienation.  The character was not stereotypical or straightforward, even though popular perception has tended to see it that way.

The ending, it seems, has attracted much comment down the years. It does have some characteristics which one would associate with the average "dream sequence", for example the images of Betsy (Cybill Shepherd) and the delivery of parts of the dialogue.  It seems that it was not intended as a dream sequence, but it has the effect of keeping people guessing. Despite everything, has Travis been purged of his demons?

Whichever way we choose to interpret Taxi Driver, it comes nearer to meriting the word "masterpiece" than most cinematic works.

Late For The Sky - Jackson Browne - album review

On internet forums, and in the media generally, it is commonplace for people to be asked to name their "top 10 albums" or their favourite album of all-time.  The centre of gravity of my musical tastes constantly shifts, but for around a decade and a half, pride of place at the top of my list has been occupied by Jackson Browne's 1974 work, "Late For The Sky".

I had been aware of Jackson's music, but mostly through his more glitzy and commercial singles of the 1980s.  It was only when I became a fan of the Eagles that I discovered his classic 1970s material.  The Eagles and Jackson were label-mates, friends and songwriting collaborators in the early Seventies, and I was persuaded therefore to look into the Browne canon.

As soon as I heard "Late For The Sky", it struck a chord, both melodically and lyrically. I actually came to it after hearing three or four of Jackson's other LPs of that era, and it stood out from those efforts in several ways.  The instrumentation and arrangements were more spartan and stripped-down than the previous "For Everyman", with its layered acoustic guitars and keyboards.  On "Late For The Sky", one is aware of greater separation, through which the inspired lyrics are able to project themselves.

In addition to the technical musical differences, the themes and concerns examined in the songs seem more focussed than before, and Jackson is generally less oblique and cryptic in telling his stories. This extra focus adds to the emotional impact of the songs, as they zero in on the hearts and minds of the listener with more clarity, and the album feels more like an overall "experience", certainly compared to its two predecessors.

In its entirety, "Late For The Sky" is the most compelling showcase for Jackson Browne's special capacity to both tug at the heart strings, and stimulate the grey matter.  Some of the subjects explored may have had peculiarly contemporary resonance in 1974, but they have proved to be timeless, and indeed to me the songs are more relevant than ever.

Considering that we are dealing with a classic album, it seems churlish to refer to "filler", but two of the songs, "The Road and The Sky" and "Walking Slow", have to be described as such. I suspect that they were included to offset and ameliorate the effect of the meatier and more profound fare around them. For the purposes of this review, I will therefore disregard these two tracks, and concentrate on the six numbers which form its solid and enduring core.

The opener, and title track, introduces us to the type of backing we can expect throughout the album, Browne's piano and David Lindley's evocative and wonderfully brittle guitar are supported by some subtle, and at times almost inaudible, organ work. The lyrics of this song are the bleakest of all, seemingly concerned with the break-up of a relationship.  Film fans may recall the song being employed to telling effect in the movie "Taxi Driver"

On this work, Jackson seems to have enlisted the help of various people to help out with vocal harmonies, and they are a feature of this album, helping to create quite a gritty effect, consistent with the overall tone.  Jackson himself sings more passionately on these tracks than at virtually any stage of his career.  Whether this was intentional, or just a function of his development as a vocalist, is difficult to say.  The pleading phrasing ideally complements the words.

Track two, "Fountain of Sorrow", is the longest on the LP, and also the most lyrically impenetrable.  To be truthful, I have never fully made my mind up what the metaphors here are alluding to, but this is a beautiful and intelligent piece of work. The instrumentation is even more sparse than on the title track, and Browne's voice captured with greater clarity, supported by some more substantial backing vocals.

Next we come to "Farther On", a song which had a major effect on me almost from the first time I heard it.  Rarely can an instrumental part have been as apposite as David Lindley's weeping lap steel is on this. The song muses, reflects and laments upon the passing of time, and frustrated ambitions and hopes, but also celebrates humanity and its compassion and eternal optimism.

The thoughts and sentiments being expressed here will seem relevant and powerful for people, most probably those in their thirties and forties.  What still seems remarkable, not just about this song but most of those on "Late for The Sky", is that Jackson Browne was writing cohesive statements like this in his mid-twenties.

"The Late Show" is marginally less demanding than the numbers preceding it, but has some very thoughtful lines, accentuated by an appealing, wandering melody. Vaguely  "country rock" in nature, but with more complex lyrics than would be expected from that genre, it touches on many of the themes central to the album.

A song addressing the subject of death, "For A Dancer", stops well short of descending into the maudlin, and is a deceptively simple but incisive piece, curiously hopeful in areas. David Lindley's violin is used effectively but sparingly.

"Before The Deluge" is a song which tackles apocalyptic and utopian anxieties, continuing on from "For Everyman", but it also expands its reach into environmental issues, which were to become a recurring feature of the songwriter's career. Some may consider the lyrics dated, naive and even quite mawkish, but I see them as courageously idealistic.  Lindley's violin is more integral to the melody, and there are some delicate but unobtrusive organ flourishes.

It seems appropriate that this song, with its concentration on social concerns, finishes the album, which itself closed a phase in Jackson Browne's career, the "singer-songwriter" period. From now on, "non-confessional" topics would gradually assume greater importance.

In itself, "Late For The Sky" probably represents some kind of high watermark in the California singer-songwriter "movement".  It may not have been Jackson Browne's best-selling album, but its emotional pull and understated quality shine like a beacon when assessing his discography. 

At every opportunity, I try to encourage people to listen to this album, stressing what a thought-provoking and rewarding listen it remains.....