Sem Medo de Viver

Films like this, where the main character survives a plane crash, reveal more of how unprepared a hunter gatherer mind is to the trauma of the modern world, let alone after a traumatic event. When the fight or flight mechanism is unable to function, when there's nowhere to run and nothing can be done, the stress and anguish experienced must be one of the most painful emotions a human mind can experience. We also get another perspective, perhaps one more recognisable, through the helplessness of losing a loved one, a young child, in the same tragedy, completely unprepared and instant.

Yet we continue to push, push, push, backing ourselves into metaphorical corners with no means to escape or defend ourselves. This is deep introspective film making, as relevant as ever, with great performances from some truly great actors.

This movie really spoke to me. I find it hard to say whether or not is good or bad. Peter Weirs films have a way of communicating intense emotion to me, although not all are quite so good- I watched all of the disappointing Dead Poets society, and only felt this emotion in one scene- where the boy commits suicide. A powerful scene. In 'picnic at hanging rock' I felt this intense emotion a few times, especially with that shot of the girls disappearing.

I had wanted to see Fearless for a number of years and was not disappointed. I have never seen a film in my life that affected me so much. But hey, you might watch this and feel nothing. It is about human emotion, about the meaning of life and our mortality. If you care about these then I would guess this film would say something to you.

If you feel like an outsider, like an alien drifting amongst strangers, this is the film for you. If you dream of enlightenment, take pleasure in the simple intensity of the moment this is the film for you also. IMHO, is not just Peter Weirs greatest film, I feel it is one of the greatest films I have seen.

Jeff Bridges has been called the most underrated actor of his generation, and 'Fearless' speaks to the truth of such a claim. Equally overlooked is Australian director Peter Weir, who, like Bridges, was snubbed by the Academy Awards for 'Fearless.' The film was almost totally ignored by the Academy, perhaps due to the fact that 1994 was the year of the historical/political epic--'Schindler's List,' 'In the Name of the Father,' and 'The Remains of the Day' were the big winners that year, casting a bit of a shadow over a film about a rich white American suffering from PTSD.

Based on the novel by Rafael Yglesias, 'Fearless' is the story of Max Klein, a successful San Francisco architect who survives a horrific plane crash. Among the casualties of the crash are Klein's partner and best friend and the only child of Carla (Rosie Perez), a young Puerto Rican woman from Oakland who blames herself for her son's death. Prior to the accident Max suffered from an acute fear of flying; when the plane goes down, his fear becomes so intense that he accepts death. When he survives the crash, he suffers from a form of post-traumatic stress syndrome in which he can no longer feel fear because subconsciously he has already faced death. His condition creates a rift between himself and his family, a gap he tries to fill through a friendship with Carla, who is similarly afflicted with PTSD.

Bridges gives a tour de force performance as Max, who is simultaneously heroic (he leads other passengers to safety believing he is guiding them out of the plane into heaven) and contemptible (he is unspeakably cruel to his family and leaves his wife temporarily to pursue a relationship with Carla).

He's not sure whether he's alive or dead, and he is frequently drawn to test his fear and uncertainty through ludicrously dangerous stunts like dancing on the edge of a skyscraper's roof or walking calmly into speeding traffic. It's an unflinching and emotionally honest portrayal of a psychologically damaged man unsure that he has the strength or will to be healed.

Equally stunning is Rosie Perez as Carla, a devout Catholic who believes that her baby's death is a punishment from God and is nursed back to normalcy by the agnostic Max.

Other supporting actors are also captivating: Isabella Rosselini as Max's wife Laura, who loves her husband desperately but is unable to cope with Max's alienation from her and their son Jonah; Tom Hulce as an overeager but well-meaning attorney suing the airline on behalf of Max, his partner's family, and Carla; John Turturro as a psychiatrist specializing in PTSD hired by the airline to help the survivors cope with the after-effects of the tragedy; and Benicio Del Toro as Carla's husband, a poor carpenter who can't help but feel giddy about the possibility of making millions off of his son's death. Perhaps most moving is Deirdre O'Connell as the widow of Max's partner--the scene in which Max arrives at her home to confirm that her husband did not survive the crash will break the hardest of hearts.

The film is brilliantly directed by Weir, who captures the surreal nature of Max's condition masterfully.

'Fearless' is not an easy film to get through, perhaps even moreso in the wake of 9/11. The subject matter is emotionally wrenching, and its presentation is utterly unsentimental. Max is heroic, but he is also a victim, and Bridges' performance captures the tension between Max's newfound love of life and his near-psychotic need to continually face and overcome his fears. It's a tear-jerker, and it's certainly haunted by the ghosts of the dead, but it's well-worth watching if only for the pleasure of seeing one of the best actors in the business at his best.

After watching FEARLESS I clearly made up my mind about actor Jeff Bridges; he is utterly brilliant. This film is carried by his performance as a man who survives a plane crash and his the following life he lives in which his complete sense of existence is changed. The film finds mystery and tragedy and goes searching in religious places for answers that we draw out of the main character. Director Peter Weir lingers on Bridges and his inner self, and the many tender scenes that he goes through are very carefully achieved, never slipping into sentiment or boring clichés. Throughout you really don't know whether Bridges is crazy, spiritual, dead or alive - he's yearning in something that everybody around him really don't see to understand. FEARLESS is a great film with many low-key scenes that tells a story thoroughly and thoughtfully, but it always escalates into joyous wonder, and that's where director Weir and Bridges truly captured me as a viewer. It's like that dark corridor towards the light in the magnificent ending scene.

The inability to `reconnect' in the wake of a significant emotional event, especially one involving a close encounter with death, is examined by director Peter Weir, in `Fearless,' a gripping drama starring Jeff Bridges as a man emotionally adrift after walking away from an accident (a plane crash) that by all rights should have killed him, but inexplicably did not. And Weir goes on to take what is essentially a character study one step further, beyond the inevitable `why me?' that one who survives such an unimaginable episode in their life must necessarily make, to probe the psyche of the survivor and attempt to sort out the ensuing catch-22 of the mind, wherein the incident has manifested a schizophrenic sense of guilt/euphoria born of fate's decree that he, among those now dead, should live. It's a lot to assimilate; a taxing physical and psychological challenge necessitating an expanded utilization of the human capacity, and the subsequent negotiation of the attendant recast attitude and aptitude. All of which Weir succinctly captures through keen observation and his own intuitive grasp of the human condition.

As the film opens, we see Max Klein (Bridges) making his way through a cornfield just outside of Bakersfield, California; he's carrying a baby in his arms and has a young boy by the hand, leading him determinedly through the haze of smoke from the crash. There are others following Max, as well. And even before they emerge from the field, coming upon the crash site where rescue workers are already furiously attempting to sort it all out, there is a detachment about Max that is readily discernible. He surveys the situation calmly, as if seeing it all through the eyes of someone else, as if he were outside of himself, observing rather than experiencing. Then after locating the baby's mother, he simply walks away from it all, never looking back.

Two days later the F.B.I. finds him in a local motel. They put him together with a representative from the airline, who offers him a train ticket back home to San Francisco. But Max wants to fly home, which astounds the rep. `But your wife,' she says, `Told us that you didn't like to fly, even before the--' `The crash?' he replies. Then with assurance he tells her, `I want to fly home on your airline. But I have a request; I want to go first class.' And we know now, without question, that Max is not the same man that he was before the crash.

In his previous films, such as `Picnic At Hanging Rock' (1975), `Witness' (1985) and `The Mosquito Coast' (1986), Weir established himself as a director who knows human nature and is adept at exploring the emotional depths of his characters, in stories dealing with ordinary people thrust into extraordinary situations. As he does with this film, Weir sets a deliberate pace and allows that extra moment that means so much to the development of the characters. It's a subtle approach that adds depth and resonance to his films, and allows his audience to experience, rather than just watch, the drama as it unfolds. And he understands (as few directors do-- especially Americans ) the impact that `silence' can have, as in the scenes here shortly after Max leaves the crash sight. First, Weir shows us a solemn Max, driving alone through the desert at high speed, gradually awakening to the joys of living, to that `feeling' of being alive, as he sticks his head out of the widow and lets the wind hit him in the face, slapping him with the reality that he is, indeed, alive. But then we see Max parked by the side of the road, sitting on the ground, pensively staring out at the vast expanse of desert and at the low, blue mountains in the distance. The absolute silence Weir effects allows us to share Max's thoughts at that moment, to get inside his head as he picks up a bit of dirt and examines it closely, then as he looks up again at the nothingness/everything that surrounds him. As Max reflects, we reflect with him; and in that precise moment, that necessary connection between Max and the audience is firmly established. It's a quiet, and brilliant, piece of filmmaking.

Through many years and many movies, Jeff Bridges has demonstrated time and again his consummate ability as an actor who can `touch' his audience, and he continues to evolve with every new film. Max is perhaps his most challenging role ever, as it requires a vast emotional range to make this character convincing and bring him to life believably. And Bridges succeeds magnificently, and on a number of levels, with an inspiring, Oscar worthy performance. The finesse with which he conveys his moods and emotions is extraordinary; he enables you to `feel' his displacement, share his compassion, sense his empathy and know his anger. Quite simply, Bridges makes Max Klein a character you are not going to forget.

As Laura Klein, Isabella Rossellini gives a remarkable performance, as well, as the wife given the gift of her husband's life, only to have to suffer his state of `limbo,' as she desperately attempts to penetrate the defense mechanisms that have given him a renewed appreciation for the touch, taste and beauty of life, all of which she is unable to share because his experience has taken him to a place she cannot possibly go. Her portrayal is astute, convincing and some of the best work she has ever done.

Also turning in a strong performance, for which she deservedly was nominated for Best Supporting Actress, is Rosie Perez, as Carla, a fellow crash survivor with whom Max forms an especially strong and significant bond.

Written for the screen by Rafael Yglesias (adapted from his own novel), beautifully filmed by Allen Davian, and with a haunting score by Maurice Jarre that so sensitively enhances the drama in an understated way, `Fearless' is an example of filmmaking at it's best.