GALLIPOLI (1981), dir. Peter Weir
Casualties of Weir
Going in to "Gallipoli," Peter Weir’s 1981 war movie, I was expecting something along the lines of the director’s 2003 masterpiece "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World." The latter work featured beautiful cinematography, and battle scenes on an epic scale. But it also had, at its center, two well-defined and interesting characters in Russell Crowe’s Captain Jack Aubrey, and Paul Bettany’s ship doctor.
It is interesting to see the ways in which "Gallipoli" is similar, and how it is different. Once again, the movie revolves around two characters who are in the same business, but aren’t much alike. Since the movie is a historical drama, and must eventually take its protagonists to the titular campaign, we can accurately guess that both men are soldiers. But Archy Hamilton (Mark Lee) and Frank Dunne (Mel Gibson) are also two of Australia’s best sprinters. The first third of the movie follows them as they prepare for a major race, where Archy barely defeats Frank. The rest of the film details their experiences at a not-so-well-known World War I campaign, where the Australians got to be cannon fodder so the more important British army could successfully invade Istanbul.
Archy and Frank emerge as not-so-friendly rivals following Archy’s win at the race. The former is from a well-to-do family of horse ranchers. He has a world-class sprinter for an uncle and coach, and races for pride and athletic glory. Frank, on the other hand, labors for a railway company. Prize money is his only objective. Weir and his screenwriter, David Williamson, define the primary motivations of the characters early on, and we get to see how their approach to racing translates, predictably, to their approach to going to war.
We already know that Archy is an idealist. He sees his own and Frank’s athletic prowess as inarguable reasons for why they must go and fight. With great power comes great responsibility, seems to be his rationale. Ever the more practical one, Frank sees the light infantry as a chance to attain military glory without having to engage in too much direct combat. Archy is too young to be accepted into the army. He needs Frank’s street smarts to help him sneak in, while Frank needs Archy to teach him how to ride a horse.
Like "Master and Commander," "Gallipoli" is a character-driven war epic. However, Frank is the only one whose head we really get into. Archy is likable enough, with his angelic good looks and kind disposition. But being younger than Frank, he comes across as somewhat bland. Weir might have intended this, however. By depriving Archy of personality, and casting an actor with saintly good looks to play him, Archy becomes more of a martyr than a character. He represents all the young Australian men who went to war with idealistic outlooks. What is even more powerful, Archy has tremendous talent. His own uncle, timing him during a morning run, can barely withhold his astonishment at the potential his nephew shows.
When tragedy befalls Archy, his great potential becomes lost. The way Weir frames the incident, however, is as symbolic as the way Oliver Stone portrays Elias’ "dance of death" in "Platoon." The fall of one young man becomes the fall of countless young men. The loss of a single life, just entering its blooming stage, becomes a generation lost before it has the chance to reproduce itself.
And yet, "Gallipoli," somber towards the end, is not all about the tragedy of war. In Frank, we get redemption, a character who begins his journey as a pragmatist, a coward, and if the movie had a longer running time, most likely he would have become a war profiteer. But Frank’s experiences at the front change him. By the end of the film, he finds tremendous courage within himself. He becomes willing to die for his fellow soldiers; heroic, if not a hero.
The story of "Gallipoli" is that of nature and rustic beauty constantly intruded upon by chaos and death. Weir smashes the two polarities together, yielding some very startling images. There is the outdoor race during the first half of the film, a country fair whose tranquility comes to a close by the appearance of a large, wooden horse—the Australian army’s recruiting tool. Whether the Australian military actually used a giant wooden horse for marketing purposes in 1915, the symbolism of the man-made animal does seem fitting.
Then there is the underwater scene. Archy, Frank, and a bunch of soldiers are cavorting in the sea, when bullets ring out. Everyone dives under the surface, and we get these extremely graceful shots of human bodies playing on the ocean floor. At one point, Frank picks up a gun lying on the reef, and pretends to return fire at the Turks. He grins at Archy; Archy grins back. They can hear the bullets penetrate the surface of the water overhead, but neither they, nor any of their mates beside them, seem to think that they are in any danger. Then one of the soldiers takes a bullet in the arm—a lucky Turk shot—and he bobs to the surface bleeding and shouting in pain. The scene does not turn immediately serious. But one gets the feeling, even as Frank grins after the wounded soldier, that the fun is over.
Going in to "Gallipoli," Peter Weir’s 1981 war movie, I was expecting something along the lines of the director’s 2003 masterpiece "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World." The latter work featured beautiful cinematography, and battle scenes on an epic scale. But it also had, at its center, two well-defined and interesting characters in Russell Crowe’s Captain Jack Aubrey, and Paul Bettany’s ship doctor.
It is interesting to see the ways in which "Gallipoli" is similar, and how it is different. Once again, the movie revolves around two characters who are in the same business, but aren’t much alike. Since the movie is a historical drama, and must eventually take its protagonists to the titular campaign, we can accurately guess that both men are soldiers. But Archy Hamilton (Mark Lee) and Frank Dunne (Mel Gibson) are also two of Australia’s best sprinters. The first third of the movie follows them as they prepare for a major race, where Archy barely defeats Frank. The rest of the film details their experiences at a not-so-well-known World War I campaign, where the Australians got to be cannon fodder so the more important British army could successfully invade Istanbul.
Archy and Frank emerge as not-so-friendly rivals following Archy’s win at the race. The former is from a well-to-do family of horse ranchers. He has a world-class sprinter for an uncle and coach, and races for pride and athletic glory. Frank, on the other hand, labors for a railway company. Prize money is his only objective. Weir and his screenwriter, David Williamson, define the primary motivations of the characters early on, and we get to see how their approach to racing translates, predictably, to their approach to going to war.
We already know that Archy is an idealist. He sees his own and Frank’s athletic prowess as inarguable reasons for why they must go and fight. With great power comes great responsibility, seems to be his rationale. Ever the more practical one, Frank sees the light infantry as a chance to attain military glory without having to engage in too much direct combat. Archy is too young to be accepted into the army. He needs Frank’s street smarts to help him sneak in, while Frank needs Archy to teach him how to ride a horse.
Like "Master and Commander," "Gallipoli" is a character-driven war epic. However, Frank is the only one whose head we really get into. Archy is likable enough, with his angelic good looks and kind disposition. But being younger than Frank, he comes across as somewhat bland. Weir might have intended this, however. By depriving Archy of personality, and casting an actor with saintly good looks to play him, Archy becomes more of a martyr than a character. He represents all the young Australian men who went to war with idealistic outlooks. What is even more powerful, Archy has tremendous talent. His own uncle, timing him during a morning run, can barely withhold his astonishment at the potential his nephew shows.
When tragedy befalls Archy, his great potential becomes lost. The way Weir frames the incident, however, is as symbolic as the way Oliver Stone portrays Elias’ "dance of death" in "Platoon." The fall of one young man becomes the fall of countless young men. The loss of a single life, just entering its blooming stage, becomes a generation lost before it has the chance to reproduce itself.
And yet, "Gallipoli," somber towards the end, is not all about the tragedy of war. In Frank, we get redemption, a character who begins his journey as a pragmatist, a coward, and if the movie had a longer running time, most likely he would have become a war profiteer. But Frank’s experiences at the front change him. By the end of the film, he finds tremendous courage within himself. He becomes willing to die for his fellow soldiers; heroic, if not a hero.
The story of "Gallipoli" is that of nature and rustic beauty constantly intruded upon by chaos and death. Weir smashes the two polarities together, yielding some very startling images. There is the outdoor race during the first half of the film, a country fair whose tranquility comes to a close by the appearance of a large, wooden horse—the Australian army’s recruiting tool. Whether the Australian military actually used a giant wooden horse for marketing purposes in 1915, the symbolism of the man-made animal does seem fitting.
Then there is the underwater scene. Archy, Frank, and a bunch of soldiers are cavorting in the sea, when bullets ring out. Everyone dives under the surface, and we get these extremely graceful shots of human bodies playing on the ocean floor. At one point, Frank picks up a gun lying on the reef, and pretends to return fire at the Turks. He grins at Archy; Archy grins back. They can hear the bullets penetrate the surface of the water overhead, but neither they, nor any of their mates beside them, seem to think that they are in any danger. Then one of the soldiers takes a bullet in the arm—a lucky Turk shot—and he bobs to the surface bleeding and shouting in pain. The scene does not turn immediately serious. But one gets the feeling, even as Frank grins after the wounded soldier, that the fun is over.
Labels: ****, 1981, Australian, Mel Gibson, Peter Weir
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