attack – Hawkensian

Deliverance (1972)

Deliverance is one of the great films of the 1970s that moulded my love for film.

My first viewing of Deliverance left a large impression on me, so large in fact that I wrote a review for IMDb on August 28, 2005 at the age of only 12.

The header for the ten star review was simply ‘Atmopsheric’. For some reason, I immediately compared the film to Predator – ‘I thought the surroundings in Predator were good, but Deliverance beats it by far with the beautiful untouched countryside and the Cahulawassee River that runs through it.’ I continued, saying that Deliverance is a ‘masterful portrayal of each man’s change of character under stress’. I was initially surprised by the maturity of that comment, but I’m fairly sure I copied it from the DVD case. I rounded the review off by naming it a ‘real treat’ and a ‘top notch thriller’. Despite its plagiarism and mere 110 word length, I agree with the little I wrote 9 years ago. The film was 33 at the time; it is now 42 and as good as ever.

The film, which is based on the book by James Dickey, follows Ed (Jon Voight), Drew (Ronny Cox), Bobby (Ned Beatty) and Lewis (Burt Reynolds). The three men are contented, middle-class executives who would gladly play golf in lieu of hunting, climbing and rafting. The only reason the trip happened was because of Lewis, a competitive, playground bully and some sort of survivalist. Unlike the others, he has no time for humour in the Georgia wilderness; he takes himself and the trip very seriously, appearing to consider it a spiritual exercise akin to the Aboriginal tradition of walkabout.

The unlikable Lewis takes a churlish disliking to Bobby, addressing him as ‘chubby’, barking orders at him and interrupting him with smug, portentous monologues about his ostensible understanding of their majestic, harsh surroundings. Before the relationships between the four men can be explored in a normal fashion, they are thrown into an extraordinary situation in a scene that has since become infamous for its line squeal like a piggy. What follows is a thriller that achieves an uncommon resonance because of the everyday, almost banal qualities of its characters; they are real people in a real situation rather than stock characters being assailed by monstrous caricatures.

Like I said in 2005, it is indeed a beautifully verdant film. The ‘Cahulawasse River’ isn’t a real river, the turbulent rapids and surrounding forests we see are that of the Chattooga River in Georgia. The landscape and their traversing of it is well captured; I shared the four men’s expressions of wired engrossment as they negotiated the dangerous rapids with the utmost concentration, and I felt their elation too when they reached the safety and tranquillity of the calmer waters. The excellent Blu-Ray surround sound places you there, it enveloped me with the interminable sounds of buzzing insects and rushing water. Despite everything that happens in Deliverance, the film certainly makes me want to travel.

The wild local people were well cast, they were seemingly picked from some West Virginia backwood, providing the film with a morbid authenticity. Perhaps the most memorable villager is the teenage banjo virtuoso played by Billy Redden in the famous Duelling Banjos sequence. He was picked from a school in the local area and isn’t actually playing the banjo, the arms and fingers we see belong to a musician sitting behind the bench with his arms through Redden’s sleeves. While the film is best known for its plucking banjos, it makes great use of a synthesiser in a few instances, producing this chilling monotone hum that works particularly well when Ed becomes entangled underwater.

The performances are good, but they aren’t given much dramatic range because large portions of the film the performances rely on physicality. I am nit-picking here and not entirely decided, but with his wide-eyed expressions and animated ungainly movements, I felt that Voight was at times rather exaggerated in his conveyance of being a city slicker unused to the rugged Appalachian terrain. It is perhaps Ned Beatty’s assailant Bill McKinney who deserves the most praise, because as Burt Reynolds points out during the 40^th anniversary reunion of the four men, he kept his eyes open without fault for a quite remarkable length of time – anyone who’s been locked in a bitter staring competition can attest that it’s no small feat!

I haven’t read James Dickey’s novel, I have found it quite a difficult book to find, but I have heard that, unsurprisingly, the characters are given a more detailed backstory. I would have welcomed a longer film with greater character development, but it works admirably as a stripped down survivalist thriller.

Deliverance is one of those films that I will always be fond of. My first viewing came at a time when my cinematic horizons were rapidly broadening along with prized DVD collection, which I proudly ordered and compartmentalised in rectangular shelves across my bedroom walls. I’m glad that I can say without reservation that one of my favourite films still holds up.

92%

Threads (1984)

Devastating film.

Even to those who know of Threads‘ reputation, the film still packs a punch that leaves you winded and miserable. It is a comprehensive and compelling insight into nuclear warfare that brutally highlighting the abject foolishness of MAD – the apt acronym for Mutually Assured Destruction.

The film focuses on young couple Jimmy (Reece Dinsdale) and Ruth (Karen Meagher) and their respective families. Ruth’s pregnant, so they’ve decided to do the proper thing by marrying and moving in together. Of course, their plans are never realised. The cast consists of unknown actors, which is a smart move because any household names may have detracted from the reality of it.

Although it is a drama, much of the film adopts a documentary format. Informative captions are typed across the screen by what sounds like a teletyper, producing that loud, mechanical sound as it ominously details the strategic and economic importance of Sheffield and the rapidly worsening international relations. It is this documentary realism that gives Threads a disturbing authenticity that further adds to the tension preceding the inevitable attack.

When the bomb finally strikes, the preamble that has led to it ensures that it remains powerful even if the special effects aren’t spectacular. I was actually pleasantly surprised by the special effects, the image of the mushroom cloud rising above the screams and hysteria of Sheffield is haunting, albeit lacking in scope compared to that infamous sequence in Terminator 2. It certainly blows ‘The Day After’, a similar American production, out of the water.

‘In an urban society, everything connects. Each person’s needs are fed by the skills of many others. Our lives are woven together in a fabric, but the connections that make society strong, also make it vulnerable.’

‘Threads’ opens with this profound piece of narration from Paul Vaughan, explaining its title and foreshadowing the abject horror that’s to come. It is after the bomb strikes that the viewer really begins to understand what it looks like when this vulnerable fabric of society is absolutely shattered. Once humanity has their veneer of civilisation destroyed, they become desperate and animalistic. Money becomes worthless, the new currency is food, food such as stale bread and raw meat, and people work frantically for it. Crops are scarce and the diminishing fuel reserves lead to the use of hoes rather than combine harvesters. Within a few years of the attack, the British population reaches medieval numbers of 4 – 11 million.

These damning facts and figures either appear in the aforementioned captions or are narrated by Vaughan, whose diction is comparable to Laurence Olivier’s in the brilliant Thames Television series The World at War.

Threads is a trenchant argument for nuclear disarmament. What an obnoxiously reckless species we’d be if we allowed nuclear warfare to destroy our planet. Imagine if some extra-terrestrial tourist with knowledge of Earth’s abundance of natural beauty, culture and technology landed on our planet only to find themselves amidst a nuclear winter, what a shameful task explaining ourselves to them would be.

We’ve all seen depressing, harrowing films, but the utter nihilism that is explored in such grinding detail here will make the idea of merely existing in a functioning, productive society seem positively Utopian.

82%

Monster (2003)

A torturous, depressing biography with an uncannily accurate lead performance.

What a tortured life this woman led; a life of inferiority, confusion, violence, victimisation, prostitution, anger and ultimately, murder. Charlize Theron’s utter transformation is what drives this film, her performance and physical emulation perfectly conveying the desperate pain and impetuous anger of her character. I think the Oscars are not much more than a smug festival of self-celebration, but this performance deserved commendation.

‘Monster’ is the story of Aileen Wuornos, a prostitute from Florida who murdered seven men between 1989 and 1990. One might think that the film’s title would suggest otherwise, but the film gives a very human representation of Wuornos. She was indeed a ‘monster’ in her final years, but the film’s emphasis on the brutal, relentless path that led to her first killing shows the architecture of such a creation. But not for a second, I hasten to add, does the film condone her violence, she isn’t glorified and she isn’t vilified either, the film is so very downbeat and visceral that it would be impossible for anyone to be allured by it. ‘Monster’ is by no means the tale of one woman standing up against chauvinist pigs; her tale of nature, nurture and the consequences of violence is impartially told.

The film reflects on Wurnos’ childhood, a time of sexual favours, inadequacy, rape and beatings. A narrative gap, which misses a dubious failed marriage and numerous arrests, presents the viewer with a sorry picture, a woman who washes in petrol station toilets, a woman who is desperately trying to survive. She then meets a companion, the vulnerable Selby Moore. It’s at this point that the film strays from the facts; ‘Selby Moore’ is a fictional character, very loosely based, especially in appearance, to Tyria Moore, Wuornos’ lover until her execution.

The pair, who have moved in together, live off Wuornos’ prostitution wage until their relationship is complicated by Moore’s discovery of Wuornos’ taste for violence. The film depicts the first murder as Wuornos described it -self defence. Unlike her later stories, I think this claim has credibility; it’s quite possible that Mallory thought Wuornos was expendable social underclass, an easy thrill without consequence. I respect that the scene was orchestrated in this manner.

Monster is a stark and balanced insight into the frankly miserable life of Aileen Wuornos. You may not like her and all the violence will most likely strain your empathy, but I think you’ll leave the film having a greater understanding of the woman.

80%