j-penkair

This film is so well-celebrated for such a long time. Much like "The Godfather" or "The Exorcist", I thought there was nothing more to add, until I got to watch it up close recently. This time, I found the character of Major T.E. Lawrence to be one of the oddest characters of the so-called "heroes" in the history of world cinema. He is indeed larger than life, as they say, but he is also a psychologically challenging person whose real intent is never clear. At the time of its 1962 original release, not many films dare to feature an ambiguous character as their heroes. As a rebel, Lawrence is never as conventional as Lenin, Mao, or Che Guevara. His plight is terrifyingly personal, leading us to believe that his suppressed homosexuality may have something to do with his motivation. The Sadism and Masochism of a gay or non-gay person is another addition to such a murky drive. This psychoanalysis can go on and on. My point, though, is David Lean's unconventional selection of such topic of his epic. This goes for Robert Bolt, its script writer, and Peter O'Toole, as a first timer, too. These men take a great risk of being shunned by the scared public of such a progressive idea. Having said so, I think we must credit the flamboyant producer of this film, Sam Spiegel, as well. He risks being branded as a dubious character just to push the story of crazy Lawrence to the world, despite being the film's money man. David Lean, as we look back, is great because he possesses the dual qualities of the true lover of film process, and an unconventional view of the world and its ingredients as a society. In a way, Lean tells Lawrence's story because Lawrence represents him in some strangely rebellious and alienated vision of the world. These two layers of "Lawrence of Arabia", a grossly fun epic ride and a hidden critique of the world's pretentiousness, are exactly why this film just won't die away. It is a cultural treasure of mankind to be dug and dug again. The learning curve goes on.

As an advocate of Sam Peckinpah's "Straw Dogs", I was prepared to condemn this remake and utterly disregard it as for Rob Zombie's "Halloween" duo. Strangely enough, I can't. The film is extravagantly inferior to Peckinpah's incomparable piece of manhood and mankind, but it is not a total failure like many viewers want it to be. For the un-necessity to have it made in the first place, I can possibly subscribe to that notion. Other condemnations, no. The film has tried to adapt the 1970's story to today's world of class differences. Relocating the entire backdrop from rural England to America South, a few of new subplots are added. Such a dramatic change causes the storyline to be less than solid, compared to the original version. The character of Charlie, for instance, is supposed to be of flesh and blood and more real. The new version reduces him to a cardboard character. The rape, the sadism, the religious fanaticism, and the folk leadership are meant to be subtle, as in the old version, and not in the face. David's character is realistic as weakly male of today, but Dustin Hoffman's David is much more believable as a man of softness, weakness, and moral superiority. James Marsden's David falls short. We must blame him for not adapting and standing his ground, as opposed to understanding his higher-moral obligations. On the contrary, I find Kate Bosworth's Amy to be much relevant to the story development, as compared to the slutty Susan George's character of the original. James Woods as the Coach is a pathetic old drunk, incomparable to Len Jones's deeply scary Mr. Hedden. Now, the violence. It occurs to me that simple killings of the 1971 version are real horror because the violence truly comes from inside. We all fear that fellow human beings to become that much violent to us. However, the violence of the 2011 version is commonplace, non-shocking, and failing to address the animal instinct of mankind. This is for me the remake's greatest weakness. Violence for Sam Peckinpah is a major character whom you never forget. Violence here in the 2011 version is a blowing wind that leaves no trace and footprint when it is done. Nice try, Mr. Lurie, but you still come much second to the dead dear director.

I never saw a film so simple and yet so complex at the same time. This is how sophisticated Sam Peckinpah was as director of Straw Dogs. He must have had a god-like understanding of human beings and their vulnerabilities, or Straw Dogs would have turned out a forgettable made-for-TV movie. On the contrary, the film is increasingly relevant to mankind as time goes by, surpassing even a classic branding. The story plot and the script are exceptionally well-done, as it rids the viewers of any disbelief from early on. You stop asking why they move there, why Amy Sumner chooses to conduct herself that way, why there is tension between her and the husband. Why the rape is emotionally mixed between yearning and disgust on her part, and all the rest. You subscribe to the film from the beginning, and helplessly follow them every step of the way until every bit of emotion is brutally unfolded and till tail lights of that white car disappears into the darkness. If you show this 1971 film around the US today, it would be easily alleged of campaigning for the National Rifles Association to support the rights to bear arms. It is scary to discover that violence does not have to start from your own inclination or their provocation. Violence can be a result of mutual contempt without you being conscious of helping to develop one. In this film, violence is much a combination of David, Amy, Charlie, Chris, Norman, Henry, Tom, Reverend Barney Hood, to even the lawman Major John Scott, who represents a mindset of "the law is dead". Sam Peckinpah, as this film was first released, was condemned almost unanimously by critics and viewers alike. He was accused of glorifying violence, in support of a lawless society, and in favor of Doomsday's analogies. Today we see him as a prophet who was and is wise. His analysis of social problems is second to none. You can even restructure all governments' crime-preventing policy based upon his films, particularly on this one. Someone made the right call not to try any sequels of this film. The reason is obvious: we now become the real-life sequel of David Sumner's driving Henry Niles into the dark on that fateful night.