Category: Harrison Ford

APOCALYPSE NOW

By Marc S. Sanders

Francis Ford Coppola’s Vietnam War masterpiece, Apocalypse Now from 1979, focuses on a madman assigned to find another madman and assassinate him.  I look at the film as a spiral into a dark, demented psychosis.  Each section of Coppola’s film appears like some variation of insanity within an environment and period of time where there was no end in sight for a war that was going out of control.

Captain Benjamin Willard (Martin Sheen) is first shown in a hotel room that he has ransacked during a drunken rage, going so far as to smash his fist into a mirror.  His voiceover explains the horrifying experiences he has already endured.  Now he is at a point where killing is all he is capable of performing. He is summoned to a General’s lunch where he is assigned to seek out a highly decorated Special Forces soldier named Colonel Walter Kurtz (Marlon Brando).  Kurtz has taken his squad over to Cambodia without authorization.  It is believed that he has gone insane with his will to harbor people over there into a cult that he controls while engaging in his own actions against the Vietcong.  The army needs this problem contained and Willard has been selected to terminate Kurtz.

Apocalypse Now is primarily about the journey, rather than its destination.  Willard is to be escorted by patrol boat up the Nang River to find Kurtz and complete his mission.  Along the way he will encounter a variety of scenarios and characters. 

The standout character is Lt Colonel Kilgore (Robert Duvall) the commander of a helicopter calvary battalion.  Willard meets up with Kilgore early on as he will provide an opening on the river for the long journey to begin.  This is the most memorable section of Coppola’s film.  Robert Duvall is truly maddening as he relishes in the destruction he commands.  Kilgore is amused to blare Wagner’s The Ride Of The Valkyries as his choppers blast the shore line where Vietnamese villagers and farmers reside.  Duvall almost seems god like during this sequence because he does not even flinch as explosions and armory are set off mere inches away from him.  He’s crazed enough to even send his troops out into the ocean to surf while the mayhem is still occurring.  When he takes off his shirt while proudly wearing his calvary hat, sunglasses and yellow scarf around his neck, he utters the famous line “I love the smell of Napalm in the morning.”  There is no hint of sarcasm in that line.  Kilgore truly means it.  The commands of war are his absolute pleasure.  The only human feeling that Kilgore shows is when his personalized surfboard turns up missing.  Otherwise, the carnage he leaves behind is a job well done.

Why do I focus on this sequence so much?  First, it is a perfect construction of filmmaking and acting combined.  Coppola’s clear daylight shots of the choppers advancing on the surf are an amazing sight to behold.  To have that much control of so many vehicles in the air so that a select number of cameras can take in the sequence amazes me.  It is feats like these that show why I love movies so much.  The moment is more enhanced with Wagner’s piece accompanying it.  This could all be appreciated as simple documentary style filmmaking.  However, when you combine the mayhem Coppola stages with the proud march of The Ride Of The Valkyries, and Duvall’s crazed glee of commanding this episode of mass destruction, you start to see a pretense.  The hypocrisy of all the elements contained in this sequence tells the story. This country and its people are being obliterated by a crazed individual arriving from the heavens above.  As the scene progresses, my mind returned to the overall plot of the film; the mission of the protagonist which is to kill a lunatic.  At this point in the picture, I have yet to meet Colonel Kurtz.  So, how much of a madman must Kurtz be when compared to a maniac like Kilgore?

Later sequences carry on the insanity theme.  A trio of Playboy playmates are brought in to entertain the troops during one of Willard’s stop overs.  Yet, the crowd of soldiers gets out of control and the entertainers are forced to flee by helicopter with some of the men grasping on to the chopper as it takes flight.  My thoughts were you must be insane to continue hanging on while it gets higher into the air.  Let go for heaven’s sake before you plummet to your death.  Nevertheless, these half naked women are the purest, most angelic thing that these boys have ever seen since being recruited into this hellish nightmare. 

Willard’s crewmen on the patrol boat seem too green with the impacts of war.  They are not as battle weary as Willard.  There’s a guy named Lance (Sam Bottoms) who seems happy go lucky to play the Rolling Stones.  There’s a chef by trade (Frederic Forrest) and a young kid who goes by the name of “Clean” (Laurence Fishburne).  Chief Phillips (Albert Hall) drives the boat.  Willard must keep his mission classified.  These men are only supposed to get him to his destination no matter how far up the river it takes them.  These soldiers are riding into the unknown, escorting a crazed fellow who knows that a positive outcome is not likely.  Coppola provides moments where the men lose control of their senses.  These boys don’t come as informed about what is right and wrong within the parameters of war.  Innocent lives are taken as the patrol boat continues its horrifying tour.  Their lives might be taken as well.  The question is what is the worse cost?  Death, or the horrors they encounter, act upon, and live with thereafter?

It’s notable to watch Frederic Forrest’s performance as he transitions into a mindset with no other option but to slaughter as he dons camouflage makeup later in the film.  Albert Hall’s performance lends some sensibility to the picture.  However, how does Chief Phillips’ receptivity measure up to the crazed obsession that Willard has for completing his assignment?  It’s all quite tragic as the film moves from one moment to the next.

As expected, the third act of the film focuses on Willard’s encounter with Kurtz.  Before all of this, we follow along as Willard reads through the extensive files of Kurtz’ history and career.  This man seems like a giant among giants and in 1979 it seems only befitting that a giant of an actor portrays the mysterious Colonel.  So, that actor had to be none other than Marlon Brando.  Oddly enough, this portion of the film is where the film starts to wear out for me.  Kurtz is insane in a quiet and dark way.  Coppola shoots much of Brando’s performance in darkness.  I’m aware of the purpose with that kind of filmmaking, but it is a long section of film to watch an actor move in and out of the light.  Brando comes off mysterious with lines of dialogue that make little sense at times.  Some allegories work as he describes Willard’s purpose as that of a clerk delivering groceries.  Yet, Kurtz seems the least crazed of all the crazies provided within Coppola’s film. 

A babbling, hippie photographic journalist (Dennis Hopper) greets Willard upon his arrival.  He’s talking in circles with envy for Kurtz, his leader, who resides within the tomb like structure along the banks of the river.  The natives also seem to heed towards Kurtz’ influence.  Willard is taken captive and tormented.  Still, when Kurtz speaks he doesn’t come off so kamikaze like the others we’ve seen before.  I can only presume there are levels to insanity.  Madness is not a well-defined ailment.  I find it ironic that Kurtz, the great soldier and decorated war hero, is deemed the greatest threat to the armed forces’ image within this conflict.  Kilgore, on the other hand, has free reign to slaughter helpless women, children, and farming communities all in the name of victory while commanding his underlings to surf along the coastline. 

What is so mystifying about Apocalypse Now is how thematic the movie seems to be.  It follows this common pattern demonstrating how crazed the effects of war can have on people.  The killing and bloodshed are the most apparent of course.  However, the military declares early on that there is a loose cannon within their ranks that must be contained.  The only option is to kill this man, who has done his bidding for the progress of its army for so long.  This man, Colonel Kurtz, has sacrificed promotions in ranking and a return to a quiet life with his wife and children, so that he can continue with carrying out the agendas administered by his government.  Yet somehow, he crosses a border, and he no longer kills the way his superiors want him to, and now he must be terminated.  The hypocrisy is to send a madman to do a madman’s bidding, as if that will preserve some sort of sanity within this out-of-control conflict.

I could not get away from that impression during the whole three-hour running time of the film.  Practically every caption, scene, expression, or scenario is rooted in madness.  Francis Ford Coppola wrote the script with John Milius and it’s been said that much of the filmmaking was done on the fly.  Still, with Coppola’s direction along with a strong cast, particularly from the quietly, reserved Martin Sheen, the message comes through clearly.  War begins with a difference in politics and a need for further control.  Pawns are the collateral damage used at will to settle the argument.  Rules of engagement may appear formally on paper.  However, is anyone with a gun in his hand or facing the end of a loaded barrel going to pause and consider what’s just and appropriate before taking action? 

Apocalypse Now speaks to an end of days where the soldiers sent to do the bidding of others respond by doing what they ask of themselves.  Therefore, I’ll end this piece on a vague note. 

There is no organized effort when it comes to war.

NOTE: This article is based on my viewing of Coppola’s third iteration of his film, entitled Apocalypse Now: The Final Cut.

THE CONVERSATION

By Marc S. Sanders

To watch Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation from 1974 is to feel the paranoia of what Harry Caul, the protagonist played by Gene Hackman, endlessly feels as a surveillance expert. Harry is so skillful at his job and yet so modest, that he only believes someone may actually be better. Even he doesn’t believe he’s that good. Still, his own expertise can drive him to insanity.

Coppola opens the picture on a wide lens that gradually zooms in, looking down on a sunny afternoon in a crowded park. There are musicians and mimes. Bums that sleep on a park bench and food vendors, and then there is a couple (Cindy Williams, Frederic Forrest) who we are drawn to to get some sound bites of their random conversation. Their voices are muffled at times. Feedback and background noise interferes as well. Harry is spotted trying to keep within a perimeter to allow his hardware to function and get every tidbit of the conversation.

Following this sequence, Harry is back at his fenced in warehouse operation that he shares with a loudmouth partner named Stan (John Cazale) attempting to clean up the recording for his client, only known as The Director. It’s a skill that only Harry has the means to do. Hackman plays the part as a quiet and reserved man, unlike his competitors who proudly boast of their next, great invention to eavesdrop and capture the actions and discussions of any subject. With an awareness of what he’s capable of, I’d argue he trusts no one, even when he’s being praised. Does he even trust Stan, who he works with?

To be good at this kind of work requires the ability to separate yourself from the content of what you’re listening to. Just get an audible recording and move on. The content should be for someone else to stew over. For Harry, this becomes a challenge. He uncovers a hint in the couple’s exchange that suggests perhaps their lives are in danger. When he goes to drop off the recordings and collect his fee, he is not met by The Director. Instead, he comes across a lackey (Harrison Ford) who insists that he was instructed by the client to make the exchange. His paranoia sets in, when the lackey keeps on appearing at random, unexpected moments with Harry. None of it feels right for Harry. So he violates what should be his own rules and investigates further. The risk is whether his own capabilities will undo his sense of humanity and decency, including his connection with God.

Coppola, who also wrote the script for his film, puts Harry to the test in nearly every scene. He writes Harry to be the best at what he does, and yet that doesn’t prevent failure from occurring. He even fails to recognize when he’s being victimized and listened to. A midway point features a party among the men who specialize in surveillance. Harry quietly flirts with a girl only to feel embarrassed when his East Coast competitor reveals that he recorded their conversation from across the room. Seems like a harmless prank, as sophomoric as playground or locker room teasing, but it’s enough to maybe drive Harry into madness.

Harry Caul is one of Gene Hackman’s best roles. It stands apart from other films he’s been in. Harry is very much a three dimensional character who values his religious connection and his sense of morality. The problem is that Harry is a specialist in something that’s really not very moral or ethical. His Catholic beliefs might suggest what he does is sinful. Sure, he goes to confession, but he still pursues actions that are deemed inappropriate in the eyes of God.

Francis Ford Coppola depicts a very telling moment as Harry tries to find a listening device in his apartment. He takes apart everything in the place by either breaking it or unscrewing it. What do you think he’ll do when he comes upon his figurine of the Virgin Mary? Is there anything left to trust? Anything of value or purity in Harry’s world? He doesn’t trust others. He doesn’t trust himself? Does he trust a higher power that he’s leaned on his entire life?

Because The Conversation does not delve too much into the now dated-very dated– technology from the early 1970s, it is a film that is especially relevant in today’s age of cell phone recordings and devices that are relied upon for everyday use. While Harry is possibly thinking he’s on a noble pursuit with his means to eavesdrop, either by servicing a client or even rescuing someone from what appears to be imminent danger, is this the right way to go about it? What will it cost Harry? As well, what does it cost our society to embark on the convenience of what we are now capable of? Does the ability to record someone’s actions contain absolute merit, or are we violating a civil mentality within ourselves and among our fellow human beings?

There’s a lot of hard questions to answer in The Conversation. I think that’s why especially now it’s an important picture to see.

INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL

By Marc S. Sanders

Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull succeeds on so many levels of storytelling and construction. It stays true to form of its title character protagonist. Indy is not only a hero. He’s also a traveler of history. The film takes place in the year 1957, and director Steven Spielberg delivers visuals that reiterate the time, when the Cold War was on the horizon, and Nazi Germany was behind us. It’s time for the Russians to step up as the big bad.

David Koepp’s script really is quite brilliant as it never loses sight of the times with references to McCarthyism, communist red scare, and flying saucers and aliens directly inspired by the B movie serials of the decade. Even Shia LeBeouf portraying a sidekick to Indy is a model of Marlon Brando from The Wild One.

I’ve mentioned before how simply the silhouette of the famed archeologist with his fedora hat and bullwhip is as recognizable as Batman or Darth Vader or James Bond. Here, Spielberg uses the visual motif against a mushroom cloud of a nuclear bomb test site, and later against a flying saucer. As noted earlier, Dr. Jones moves with time; truly living up to his famous phrase, “It’s not the years honey. It’s the mileage.”

Harrison Ford maintains the character quite well, still skeptical of what is not literal. He’s not prepared to believe in higher powers until he sees it for himself. Ford conveys Koepp’s interpretation very well.

It’s refreshing that he is paired up again with Karen Allen as Marion Ravenwood (from Raiders), the best of Indy’s female companions. Their sparring remains natural. Allen folds back into her role quite comfortably.

Stalin’s top underling is dispatched with recovering a legendary Crystal Skull and revealing it’s true power. Master character actor Cate Blanchett makes for a great Russian bob haircut villain, with uniform physique. She’s smart but she’s got every fighting skill known to pose great threat.

An infamous scene involves Indy sheltering himself in a refrigerator to survive a nuclear blast. Majority despise this scene. The phrase “Nuke The Fridge” became almost as iconic as “Jump The Shark,” simply for the audacity of its imagination. After having witnessed the near-death escapes of his past adventures (parachuting from a plane in an inflatable raft, sliding under a speeding truck, becoming “a penitent man” to cross a cavern), what is so wrong with this moment? Heck, Spielberg knows it’s crazy which is why he offers a close up indicating the fridge is “lead lined.” The scene works because it holds true to Indiana Jones’ series of absurd survival.

Besides all of the periodic references, the set design of Kingdom… is spectacular. Looking at the final act of the film, we are treated to a column that opens itself up with ingenuity as sand must pour out of the column in order for the structure to open with a receding downward staircase. Then, there’s a beautiful open sesame moment before entering a circular throne room.

Another earlier moment stages a hidden chamber that is revealed on a large, stone, tilted disc. All of this collectively speaking is truly one of the best set pieces in all four of the Indy films.

A delightfully fun car/motorcycle chase on Indy’s college campus is great as well as there is jumping from bike to car and back to on to the bike before swerving into the library. The scenic background design has to be admired for showing protest signs to Communism on campus. The film never loses sight of where its story is set. Detractors of this film fail to recognize any of this.

Fans also took issue with LeBeouf. Not me. He’s got an adventurous fun side to him. The smart aleck way of Ford’s younger years, but not the same character background. He has fun with swinging from vines and sword fights, in the same vein of a mine car chase from a prior installment.

The story is moved by clues and maps and deciphering a welcome John Hurt who speaks in a gibberish of riddles that stem from a brainwash his character experiences. This is all good for a great pursuit. Nothing is easily revealed. Mayan writing needs to be interpreted; maps need to be read. Stories of legend need to be told. Indy needs to apply his professional knowledge to move forward through the Amazon to his final destination.

I’d argue that Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull is one of the most misunderstood and divisive films of all time. People gave up on it too easily, I think. They reserved their approval because of either a ridiculous title (a great B movie title), or LeBeouf’s casting, or Ford’s age, or vine swinging and big ass red ants (a great monster horror scene by the way). I say those folks just didn’t get it and failed to recognize where all of this stemmed from. David Koepp, George Lucas and Steven Spielberg were very aware of what to present. If I were them, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Again, it’s not the years. It’s the mileage.

INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE

By Marc S. Sanders

Steven Spielberg is great when he takes advantage of a silhouette. His best example of this is with Indiana Jones. He’ll hide the character in deep sun so you only make out the recognizable shadow of his famous fedora hat and bullwhip by his side. I treasure a moment like this as Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade approaches it’s closing credits and he rides off into the sunset along with his father and their trusty companions. (Other great silhouettes happen in Raiders Of The Lost Ark – when he first meets Marion, or when he’s traversing through the South American jungle or when he’s digging towards the Well Of The Souls. I love it every time I see it.)

The Last Crusade no longer offers the mystery of the famed archeologist. Unlike Raiders where Indy only says what is necessary and his past experiences remain unknown, this story offers a background. How does Indy first dabble into the world of rare antiquities and what did he miss out on as a child followed by an adventurous transition into adulthood? How about that scar on his chin? There are some answers here.

Harrison Ford keeps Indy stoic and only amusingly frustrated when interfered with by pesky Nazis and a wonderfully naive and innocent Sean Connery as his father, Henry Jones. Their pursuit of the Holy Grail, the cup that belonged to Christ at The Last Supper, is a similar narrative sequence of events to Indy’s first adventure. However, what sets it apart here is the relationship between father and son. I imagine it’s a similar connection between a lot of dads and their sons, and therefore I have a nice affection for the film.

Spielberg continues to be great with his action moments by keeping it light and fun. River Phoenix echoes a young Indy as Ford would have played it as a pre teen. It’s a convenient short story to show how the character earns the hat, the jacket, the whip and even his infamous fear of snakes.

Boat chases, underground relics, rats and fist fights atop a tank are well edited and clearly shot.

The 3rd of four wonderful adventures (soon to be five) is still fun to watch and offers enjoyment that many of today’s blockbusters have simply forgotten.

It’s always exciting to ride alongside Indiana Jones.

WITNESS

By Marc S. Sanders

Recently, I viewed The Last Emperor and one issue I had was that it was challenging to comprehend the in-depth culture of the people it depicted. I really wanted to learn and pass the final exam with flying colors. Sadly, this was an AP class that I just wasn’t qualified for.

Now that I have watched Witness for the first time in many moons, I can honestly say there is an approach where you can get absorbed in a thrilling crime drama while also appreciating the core values of the community the film focuses on, namely the Amish who reside in the state of Pennsylvania. It’s a much easier film to learn from. That’s for sure.

Peter Weir directed Harrison Ford to his only Oscar nomination to date. Ford plays police officer John Book, opposite Kelly McGillis as Rachel Lapp, a widowed Amish mother traveling by train from home to visit family. At a layover stop in Philadelphia, her young son Samuel (Lukas Haas, in one of the best child performances I’ve ever seen, so bright, observant and wide eyed) witnesses a murder committed by a decorated narcotics police officer (Danny Glover). When Book gets wind of who the cop is, all three of their lives are in danger and they are forced to flee and hide back at the Lapps’ home among the Amish community. Book, however, has taken a gun shot wound following an attempt on his life. The Amish see no choice but to heal him, especially at Rachel’s insistence.

Weir, with a marvelous script by Earl & Pamela Wallace and William Kelley, shows the intersection of two extremely different ways of life where an “Englishman’s” belief in aggressive tactics conflicts with the peaceful nature of people looking to never get involved with any other culture. A romance may seem inevitable between the two leads but it’s a difficult one to embrace. It’s truly forbidden, not simply by the elder Amish and their respective code, but both Book and Rachel know it can’t happen either.

Because we are aware of this forbidden romance that seems to break through anyway, there’s a terrific dance scene at night lit only by headlights within the barn. Ford and McGillis really shine through in this scene as it is the first escape from the fear they have for their lives and the code they honor and are reluctant to violate. It’s the best scene in the whole film. It presents possibilities for different people to interact despite the barriers that prevent such feelings and actions. They laugh and swing naturally. It’s a different kind of moment for Harrison Ford, unconventional when compared to a large majority of the action film roles he’s widely recognized for.

With a biting soundtrack of suspense from Maurice Jarre, Peter Weir also focuses on the theme of intrusion. When the climactic and certainly expected shootout sequence on the farm is to begin, it’s frightening and disturbing to actually see men in suits holding shotguns amid an unarmed society. There’s a masterful shot at dawn of the three men marching down the hill quickly approaching the farm. These aren’t cops being covert. These are cops storming a palace of peace and tranquility. It’s hard to watch because of the stain it leaves.

Josef Sommer is the lead dirty cop and he plays a great villain, truly an uncelebrated bad guy character, as the years have gone on. He’s a decorated officer who comes off with an intent that looks like it’s noble, until nobility will no longer work and intimidation has to set in. Weir shoots Sommer at a lower angle to give him an imposing height.

Ford is terrific. You see some of the Han Solo vibe in the character. He’s a tough cop after all, but then he transitions into an awakened man healed by the more primitive methods of the Amish and their drive to simply build and nurture. Another good moment occurs when Book contributes to building a barn with the other men. He shares lemonade with them. Assists with lifting the framework and hammering along. Two communities are no longer clashing. They are now blending.

McGillis is also very good in her role. She is determined to honor her background, but questions if she is capable of sin and defends her position later.

Witness gives an in depth look into the daily life of the Amish, literally how they farm, build and dress. Book wakes up with them before sunrise to milk the cow and he experiences what they endure from pesky tourists looking for photo ops. It makes for some funny moments as well as an opportunity to cheer for the stand he eventually takes.

Another funny moment is when Ford dons the Amish attire for the first time; it doesn’t exactly compliment him well at first. Book’s adaptability to his new community is awkward to grasp.

Witness presents a bird’s eye view into a very private way of living, and I saw a very large picture.

Beyond that, it’s also a crackling, good thriller.

INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM

By Marc S. Sanders

Steven Spielberg’s second installment in the Indiana Jones series of films deserves more credit than it has received, nearly forty years later. Spielberg isn’t even fond of his film, and I think he needs to reexamine his own self-criticisms.

By the time he’d make this prequel, he was already a master filmmaker (followed by Close Encounters…, Raiders Of The Lost Ark, and E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial). Temple of Doom almost seemed easy for Spielberg to construct. He just filled in the holes from one scene to the next and he’s so natural in his instincts that the thrill of adventure never wavers, and it always feels new and fresh.

Think about it!!! He accompanies a John Williams led rendition of a Busby Berkeley number while Indy tries to escape from machine gun toting baddies in a Shanghai nightclub (called “Club Obi Wan”; nice wink and nod there).

That’s followed by an unlikely jump out of an airplane with only an inflatable water raft to glide through the heights of the sky. Reader, I bought it, and only because Spielberg shot it. He just knows what looks good on film.

The main crux of the film focuses on rescuing the enslaved captured children of an Indian village from a bloodthirsty cult while also retrieving sacred stones. Over the years as we’ve approached an age of a PC climate, many take issue with racial prejudice overtones. Do Indians eat monkey brains for dessert, and rip beating hearts out of the chests of men? I don’t care, and I don’t associate these horror/comedy moments with people of a certain race. I’m not foolhardy enough to do that.

However, I do correlate this material with what inspired the Indiana Jones character in the first place, and that is the serial cliffhangers of a forgotten age. Ridiculous stunts and outrageous visuals kept the attention of the viewer and that is what Spielberg, along with creative partner George Lucas, accomplishes here.

So you are treated to thousands of icky, crawly bugs, a screeching, off the rails mine car pursuit and a “snake surprise” as a main course dinner entree.

It’s all in good fun and it’s all shown in the campy adventure thematics that Indiana Jones was always recognized for.

Just go get your jolts every time he cracks the whip. That’s all Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom was ever meant to be.

RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK

By Marc S. Sanders

Raiders Of The Lost Ark remains as one of the greatest films of all time. There’s nothing not to like about it and the accolades go to Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, Harrison Ford, Lawrence Kasdan and John Williams, along with a sensational cast of still unknown actors that owned their roles with absolute authenticity.

Ford became a great action film star due to Indiana Jones and Han Solo. This film is an example of his best work. He’s the best at facial expression during high action moments. Watch the truck chase during the second half of the film. As he is careening a truck through the sand streets of Cairo, he winces in pain, evokes anger and dons a toothy grin as he shakes Nazis off the vehicle, and throws them through windshields.

He’s got the perfect delivery of lines as he love/hate banters with Karen Allen as tough broad Marion Ravenwood (Jones’ best gal pal of the series). Their chemistry is great because they are two loudmouths who work off insulting and shouting at one another. They are one of my favorite on screen couples; like two Oscar Madisons who belong together.

Recently Ford said no one else can play the role; the role dies with him. He couldn’t be more right. Indiana Jones is not an interchangeable part like James Bond or Batman. Those roles change with the times and technology. Jones remains in history with a trusty whip, a sign of the times fedora hat and a drive to uncover the great unknown. None of these films work unless Harrison Ford is Indiana Jones.

John Williams also needs recognition. Who isn’t familiar with the famous build up horns calling for adventure? His composition just puts a smile on your face. Dialogue isn’t at play much during one of Spielberg’s well orchestrated action scenes. So we rely on the march of Williams’ efforts to relish in the fun of a foot chase through a Cairo marketplace or to thrill at a fast rolling boulder chasing the famed archeologist after he snatches his prized booty.

Spielberg and Lucas always get praise for their brilliant imagination. I venture to guess how many people were aware of the occupation of archeologist before the film’s original release in 1981. Sure, this isn’t what the job realistically entails, but the film opens your mind to what is out there and what we can learn more about from our past.

A great moment in cinematic exposition is when Jones explains the power of the famed biblical Ark of the Covenant. The dialogue works great here, thanks to a winning script from the great Lawrence Kasdan, and it has the audacity to convince an audience that some MaGuffin we read about in Sunday school could actually make Hitler’s Nazi regime invincible. Seriously? What?!?!? When you blend Spielberg and Lucas’ bravado, Williams’ eerily quiet thinking music, and Ford’s professor obsessed role with Kasdan’s efficiency for description all in one scene…yeah…you believe this could be a very, very real threat.

Every scene is different. Snakes, truck chases, spiders, foot chases, bottomless pits, bar shootouts, Nazis, the power of God, and a wide variety of antagonists all used to build the structure of two of the best hours in a film. It’s all brilliantly weaved together with transitioning red lines across a traveling map on screen. This is great editing, people.

Nothing has ever come close to Raiders Of The Lost Ark. Nothing ever will. It is a perfect film.

“Trust me.”

RETURN OF THE JEDI

By Marc S. Sanders

There’s a moment in Return Of The Jedi where Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) is about to be forced into Jabba The Hutt’s monstrous Sarlaac pit. R2D2 launches the Jedi Knight’s lightsaber in the air. Luke catches the hilt of the saber and just before he ignites it, the hero gives a smile. The Star Wars saga is not just fun for audiences. The players in the film are enjoying themselves just as much.

Following the mind-blowing cliffhangers of The Empire Strikes Back from 1980, the third film in the original trilogy picks up to tie off all those loose ends. The result is nothing but giddy, refreshingly inventive, swashbuckling adventure. I always admired the sets of the original trilogy. No two locations looked the same. Prior films have introduced desert, snow, swamp and cloudy locales. Jedi takes us to a forest moon known as Endor. It’s no surprise that a forest moon will not offer much technology even in science fiction/fantasy. So, we are treated to a welcoming and ironic final battle to overthrow Darth Vader’s evil Empire. Ewoks, cuddly looking teddy bears, known for the means of survival with primitive devices like rocks, sticks and logs will face up against armored Stormtroopers and gigantic, zippy little speeder bikes, and steel chicken walkers armed with powerful blasters. The battle scenes are fun, and they work. Just before the heroes break into an Empire bunker, Han Solo outstretches his arms and gives a smirk at the Imperial troops. Even Harrison Ford is having a good time. There’s much opportunity for the audience to clap along.

The main story involves Luke making an effort to defeat Darth Vader once and for all after he’s urged by Yoda and Ben Kenobi (Frank Oz and Alec Guinness) to confront the dark lord as a means to complete his training to be a Jedi. It will not be easy as it also means that Luke must resist the evil Emperor Palpatine’s seductive nature to join the dark side.

Ian McDiarmid is the Emperor and I always say this guy never got enough recognition. He’s as masterful with the role as Margaret Hamilton was with The Wicked Witch of the West. He chews the scenery and like the good guy actors, he’s also having fun in the part.

Jabba The Hutt is also a terrific surprise that’s finally revealed (if you had been following the more preferred original cuts of the trilogy). This large, slug like puppet character is an amalgamation of Marlon Brando in The Godfather and a very bulky Orson Welles. The infamously controlling gangster on Luke’s home planet of Tatooine gleefully displays a captive Han Solo still frozen in carbonite. The sets within his palace are magnificently detailed in creature extras and sleazy decor, much like a seedy strip club.

I think the appeal of Star Wars comes partly from the nature of human beings and the planet Earth where we reside. All looks familiar in a way the first time we see something and it’s easy to make presumptions of this galaxy’s inhabitants and what they are respectfully capable of. We can recognize that Ewoks might be as constructive as the Swiss Family Robinson with their tree like village. At the same time, a giant slug with a green skinned, dancing concubine chained to him commands over a peasantry. Elders in black robes carry an instinct to almost gaslight a weaker opponent for personal gain.

George Lucas sourced from prior films of all different categories used before. He only made it his own original work with some modifications. So you get sword fights, only in this world the swords are beams of light. You get a strip club bar, but it’s science fiction polish allows it to be a little more PG rated.

Return Of The Jedi serves as a great time to watch a movie. It’s swashbuckling and even well-acted, especially with Mark Hamill in the lead. His character changes from one film to the next. He’s no longer a child here. He’s now an absolute leader walking into the depths of hell aboard a new and more powerful Death Star, ready to sacrifice himself to fulfill a likely prophecy, as well as to save the Rebellion he commands.

It may not be the best film of the original trilogy, but Return Of The Jedi was one of the most satisfying movie going experiences from the decade of the 1980s.

THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK

By Marc S. Sanders

My absolute favorite film of all time is the Star Wars sequel The Empire Strikes Back.

It is a film that brilliantly reinvents the outstanding product that George Lucas introduced to the world three years prior. The dialogue is sharper for every single character from Han Solo (Harrison Ford giving a breakneck, adventurous performance) to C3PO (Anthony Daniels, masterfully giving the perfect and necessary inflections to a golden droid with a sole expression of worry, but still quite intelligent) to the man in black, Darth Vader (with David Prowse’s hulking physicality playing much more aggressively, and James Earl Jones’ voice giving a more sophisticated nuance to the character’s coldness). Lawrence Kasdan, the screenwriter, uncovered new ways to apply story to these characters above the incredible special effects of miniature models and matte paintings, as well as set design. Just look at the underground tunnels of the Hoth rebel base for convincing set pieces. Director Irvin Kershner knew how to apply the beats. A director and screenwriter make a perfect duet of cinematic filmmaking.

For one thing, settings were unlimited. While the first film showed a great contrast of sandy, sun-drenched desert and lack of development against the industrialized steel of a massive space station, Empire opts to introduce new, previously unseen environments for the characters to play in. A planet made of snow? Yup! There’s that. A planet mired in mud and swamps? Yup there’s that as well. A planet with a city in the clouds? Yup, got that too!

As the film opens, the Rebellion, heroically led by Jedi in Training Luke Skywalker (a terrifically believable Mark Hamill) is in hiding from the evil Empire on the desolate snow planet Hoth (filmed in Norway, accompanied by realistic matte paints in post production). The first battle sequence moves with a kinetic pace as the band of heroes are defeated and forced to retreat when the Empire’s giant four legged walkers (inspired by the monster films of King Kong and Godzilla) locates them.

From there, the film really lives up to its title as the heroes never win the advantage over the domineering bad guys. Han Solo with Chewbacca desperately escorts Princess Leia (a fiercely sarcastic Carrie Fisher to play against Harrison Ford) out of danger, only to find worse encounters to come as Vader remains hot on their trail. There’s a spectacular sequence that includes John Williams beloved score involving the Millennium Falcon in a crowded asteroid field. Meanwhile, at the request of Obi Wan Kenobi (Alec Guinness, in spirit), Luke visits the swampy planet of Dagobah to be trained by a mysterious Jedi Master named Yoda.

Assuming you can avoid focusing on all that you may already know of the film, including events that lead to discoveries in Empire, you have a film that never stops surprising you. Sure, by now we all know who Yoda is and what he looks like. What I remain curious about is Luke’s own image of what Yoda could be before it’s revealed midway through the film. Isn’t it a brilliant surprise and sleight of hand that Lucas, Kasdan and puppet master Jim Henson, with the voice of Frank Oz, to offer up the most unlikely person to be this great warrior or Jedi Master? It’s refreshing and it remains that way to me, no matter how many times I’ve seen the film. No matter how small or odd looking any of us could be in the eyes of someone else, our true strength and wisdom and bravery will show itself in unexpected ways. Yoda must be the most unlikely hero ever to grace a film. It’s smart storytelling when two entire scenes in Luke’s story arc come before the curtain is lifted on who Yoda actually is. Later, we are treated to a demonstration of the small creature’s strength and skills. It’s done beautifully with the absence of a lightsaber or any kind of attention-grabbing fight scene. The moment Yoda lifts Luke’s ship out of a swamp still raises the hair on the back of my neck. This scene shows that the mysterious “force” is more than simply sword fighting. There’s something more intrinsic in the willingness to believe in this element of fantasy. For us, I think it reminds us to believe in unlimited possibilities. I’m comfortable with that philosophy.

Masks are a theme I’ve always embraced in the Star Wars films. It’s not discussed enough actually. It’s ironic to me. Characters like C3PO or Darth Vader or Chewbacca and Boba Fett have these blank facial images to them. However, with the economics of Kasdan’s dialogue they say so much with brief statements of anger, despair (including a howl from Chewbacca) or worry. The expression physically never changes on C3PO’s face and yet I see different moods in the character thanks to the miming techniques of Anthony Daniels, the actor. A nod of the head will say something. With the practically silent Boba Fett agreeing to a contract with Vader, you see how methodical this bounty hunter dressed in dented armor really is. The character hardly gets any action scenes, yet you know how threatening he is. Every dent and scratch of his green armor tells a story. An aggressive walk shows a fear inducing Vader, one who is intolerant of any shortcomings. Sometimes Vader is simply matter of fact. If a minion fails in their assignment, he’ll force choke them and just walk away. As he duels with Luke, he simply puts his saber down when Luke is struggling with a massive wind current. We know that Darth Vader is cunning. So he hardly ever pushes himself further than necessary. We understand all of these characters’ emotions and motivations, and yet they are covered by masks.

The big surprise at the end of the film is the main crux that’s sustained the success of this sequel. It’s an absolute surprise out of nowhere but it seems to belong, as it is consistent with my belief in the mask motif throughout the whole film. There’s a veil draped over many developments of the film.

Allow me to digress. I’ve already discussed Yoda. Also consider other elements of the film though. Han decides to hide his ship from the Empire in the deep cavern of a large asteroid. Later, we learn it’s no cave. We also meet a charming new character named Lando Calrissean (Billy Dee Williams, who’s also great). He might not be what he seems as well. Since the first film came out, we’ve never had a full grasp of what or who Darth Vader is. He murdered Luke’s father and he’s someone or something in black. So, he must be the villain. That’s all we know, however. Yet, we eventually discover there’s something more. Because this is fantasy and science fiction with no roots in Earth based science, Lucas and Kasdan are well aware that they can color outside the lines and make up their own rules to this unfamiliar galaxy we are immersed in. Why not, actually? There are simply no boundaries.

A favorite scene of mine is when the Millennium Falcon makes a daring escape from that cave. It turns out to be the stomach of a giant slug…living in a rock…that floats in space! That’s the beauty of the original trilogy of Star Wars films, nearly anything could be put on the table, and it would be easy to accept and believe. In The Empire Strikes Back, almost every scene is layered and then further layered in imagination. Other storytellers would stop at just making this setting a cave and nothing else. It just might be shocking though. Put it this way, I’ll never forget taking my dad to see the special edition of this film in 1997. When the space slug revealed itself, dad burst out laughing. He didn’t see it coming. Kasdan hooks his audience with the furthest thing from your mind. When we got to the surprise ending, dad turned to me and actually asked me if he heard what he actually heard. When I showed the film to my daughter at age 6, her jaw dropped. How could a being dressed in complete black have any more depth to himself when I can’t even see what he looks like? The storyline of this film in particular is not aimed at any one demographic. Anyone could absorb the merits of surprise stuffed into this piece.

Empire is also admired for its firm stance to wrap up the film with an unhappy ending and cliffhanger. No other film has ever accomplished that so well. Much uncertainty is left to our imaginations. Will a character turn out to be dead? Is Vader’s revelation true, and if so then how does that explain the exposition delivered from Obi Wan? What does this “Jabba The Hutt” I keep hearing about actually look like? Was I looking at Vader’s brain or a human head underneath his helmet? What is Luke’s destiny? He didn’t do so well here. Could that lead to a worse fate? That scene for Luke in the Dagobah cave seemed quite foreboding, after all. Yoda implies “there is another.” Who could he be talking about, and what does that even mean? What about the conflict between the Rebellion and the Empire?

In the year 1980, the internet was not available as a means to spoil certain surprises and dismiss our own theories. We simply had the storytelling to work with. We had to wait three long years, speculating and discussing among our friends and family. It’s what maintained the strength of George Lucas’ space saga. The idea that we could play in the sandbox over a six-year period made these films more than just movies. They were events and they symbolized turning points in our lives. Personally, I discovered the magic of imagination. When I’m the writer the only rules I need to abide by are my own. That is most especially true with The Empire Strikes Back.

STAR WARS

By Marc S. Sanders

Of all the infinite times I have watched Star Wars (now also known as Episode IV: A New Hope), what remains appealing to me is the depth of its outer space setting. It would have to, right? Otherwise, what was the point of making action figures beyond the main characters, Darth Vader & Luke Skywalker? It’s a film where it’s just as important to get to know the extras seen in the film like a “Walrus Man” or a “Hammerhead,” or green skinned “Greedo.” Unquestionably, Star Wars is a film with a very, very rich and very deep setting.

What kept moviegoers coming back to the film time and again in the late ‘70s through the ‘80s and on into the next century, is that there is just so much to get accustomed to. One moment, you are adjusting to a summary scroll that opens the film with John Williams triumphant music, and then you are trying to familiarize yourself with an unusual ship that is being pursued by a much grander one within the depths of space while circumventing an orange planet. Laser shootouts occur with robots caught up in some kind peril, and then we meet a towering figure in black with an asthmatic, incessant breathing mask.

Later, we have to get used to small scavengers, and then scarier scavengers tormenting a boy on the cusp of adulthood who only dreams of adventure. The boy meets a mentor and then we are in a saloon with the oddest collection of patrons we could ever encounter. The film carries forward to daring rescues and escapes and a sword fight that may lack sophisticated choreography, but makes up for it with lightsabers and a surprising death that leaves an air of mystery. Before that’s all over, we still have to become enamored with the daring dog fights within space among battalions of one man piloted space ships.

That’s what has always kept Star Wars alive with much to celebrate. There is always something new and different just minutes away from the current scene you are engaged in. No two characters or bands of people look the same. No two settings look the same either.

Lucas always sought out to build a “used universe.” The ships and settings beyond the villains’ (known as the Empire) powerful Death Star space station were beat up and bruised and rusted and dented. This galaxy is lived in, and mired in a history.

Considering the film released in 1977 is somewhat telling of that decade. Films like The French Connection and Dirty Harry showed the ugliness of their respective cities and citizens with broken down cars and trash in the streets, and hoods with unkempt beards and worn-out clothing. Lucas must have carried these visions over to his PG universe to give viewers the idea that a guy like Greedo is a dangerous bounty hunter unconcerned with drawing his pistol in public, and a gangster like Jabba The Hutt rules a territory with a threatening criminal fist. (Incidentally, I strongly oppose Jabba’s appearance in the reissue of the film; better to imagine how vile this guy is in my own mind when watching the picture for the first time).

Lucas also famously takes inspiration from Akira Kurosawa’s Japanese films (especially The Hidden Fortress) of samurai culture, and blends it perfectly with a sci fi interpretation of the Old West gunslinger as seen in Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns.

Star Wars pleases so many different demographics of audiences because it jump starts its multiple stories and settings with what made going to the movies so appealing to begin with. Present within the film are humor, childlike appeal, fantasy, western motifs, suspense and romance.

It’s a visual classic that remains unmatched. At least with the original trilogy, Lucas never allowed any two settings to look alike. With this film in particular, we are treated to the contrast of a desolate desert planet vs the cold industrial operations of a ruling regime proud to carry out their actions with menace and terror. (More pleasing contrasts occur in the next two films.)

Star Wars is well known for the simplicity of its story. It’s main hero, Luke (Mark Hamill), is recognized for his basic innocence simply with his white tunic and mop top head of hair. Same can be said for the damsel in distress, Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) and the fearful but sweet droids she sets out to embark on a mission. She evokes a royal and dedicated government in her white robe with elegant hairstyle; the droids have an expression of worry for the tall one, and spunky nerve for the shorter fat one, like a Laurel & Hardy pair. Villainy is epitomized with Darth Vader (voiced with commanding authority from James Earl Jones), who dons all black with a terrifying mask/helmet. You don’t know what Darth Vader really is beneath that dark costume. It’s not important for the exposition of this film. All that matters is that Lucas shows you who is good and who is bad. The visual references are enough for the explanations. What we need to know about these characters are summed up with the wise but elderly prophet in quick summation by Ben Kenobi (Alec Guinness, in an Oscar nominated role). Kenobi serves as the historian of this universe.

Over time, even almost immediately upon its release, the commercialization of Star Wars hogged the spotlight of the original product. It’s reflected today based on a measure of expectations both financially and within the fraternity of diehard fandom. Ironically, in 1977 everyone was satisfied with the surprise that George Lucas shared on the big screen. There were no objections to be found. Today, though, it’s become an act of trying to satisfy the masses by what they believe the next developments should be. I’m guilty. I admit to sometimes being an accomplice to that notion. It’s impossible to please everyone. So new film products in the Star Wars franchise will never succeed as well as the original film managed to do.

I don’t let any of that bother me. I remain pleased that I can still feel the sensation of pumping my fist in the air when Luke & Leia swing across the chasm thereby evading Stormtroopers, or getting a thrill when their pirate escort, Han Solo (Harrison Ford), finally lets loose of his quiet, cool demeanor to run down a hallway while trying to take out an army of baddies. I get a lump in my throat when Kenobi gives a slight grin before surrendering to Vader in front of Luke’s eyes.

So much is to be seen in Star Wars, but not all of it is explained. George Lucas completed his film with routes left to wonder and think about; he gave an opportunity to continue our imagination long after we finished watching the film for the first time. On the multiple occasions we watched thereafter, we pondered where we could get a table in the Cantina/saloon, or just how many droids the Jawa scavengers kept in their sand crawler.

As well, what did the blue milky substance taste like. More importantly why exactly did Luke’s uncle give a concerned glance across the dinner table to his aunt during a slight mention of his father?

That’s the magic of Star Wars. Like the land of Oz or Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, there’s just so much to explore and think about and imagine beyond its surface. Long after we are all gone and our grandchildren’s children are beginning to stimulate their imaginations, they may well turn to the cartoons and other films and toys in the vast galaxy from long ago and far, far away. One thing is certain, though. They should ALWAYS begin with the original Star Wars.