"The horror...

...the horror."

I'm kinda glad to be nearly done with the Vietnam portion of the AFI Top 100 (10th Anniversary Edition).  These films tend to be pretty brutal.

Film 82

82.  "Apocalypse Now" (AFI Rank #30)

I'm going to knuckle down and really try and write a critic-worthy review of this film.  Shortly.  First, some business.  I watched this film for the first time when I was in high school, fairly well baked-to-the-bejesus.  I've mentioned somewhere that I used to consume mood altering chemicals, yes?  I haven't for 28 years, but I earned that privilege through some pretty heavy use when I was young.  As such, I didn't recall...nearly ANYTHING about this film.  This will be the last film in the list that I've seen before that will be like that.  Anyway, I'm looking at this film, really, for the first time...kinda.  My reactions are more visceral, and less well-informed that they will be when I watch this film again.  Yes, I said "when."

With filming beginning in 1976, nearly 3 full years before the release of the film, "Apocalypse Now" takes a book published in 1902, and places the story in the Vietnam War, with many, many alterations.  It would be like taking a work of Shakespeare, say "Romeo and Juliet," and setting it in the dust bowl era of the Great Depression.  Yes.  I've seen that production.  Oh, and while we're at it, instead of Romeo dying by drinking poison, Tybalt gets him.  That makes it different.  The story/archetypes are all there, but the location adds new dimensions to the story, as does the ending.  I haven't read "Heart of Darkness," written by Joseph Conrad, but I've read the Wikipedia page, so as to have SOME knowledge of its contents.  The story told by "Apocalypse Now" is not necessarily that true to the source material, but it isn't a complete departure.  None of that matters, of course, as I am not reviewing that material, merely the film.

Kicked around in Hollywood for a while, "Apocalypse Now" was supposed to have been directed by George Lucas, and produced by Francis Ford Coppola.  Lucas, before filming could begin, started a little project called "Star Wars," and as such, pulled out of the commitment he'd made to Coppola.  So, Coppola did exactly what he should have done, which was to take over the film himself.  This film is ranked REALLY high on the AFI Top 100 list.  I'm going to say it now.  I'm not sure it shouldn't be ranked higher.  I think, at times, this film steps on its own feet, and gets a tad muddled, and that, likely prevents us from discussing it as one of THE great films of any era, but it's a hell of a film.

Plot is relatively simple.  Returning to Vietnam for his SECOND tour of duty, an Army Captain, Benjamin Willard (Martin Sheen), who works in Special Ops, has been assigned to find and kill a Colonel Kurtz (Marlon Brando), a fiercely intelligent, highly educated, and extremely talented soldier who has disappeared into Cambodia along with an army of his own.  Kurtz has been deemed insane by the military, and a danger to himself and others.  Willard is assigned a PBR (Patrol Boat, River - look at me getting all technical) with 4 crew members, Mr. Clean (a 14 year-old Laurence Fishburne), Chef (Frederic Forrest), Lance (Sam Bottoms), and Chief Phillips (Albert Hall) to take him up river, and into Cambodia, where he is to "terminate - with extreme prejudice" Kurtz's command.  The balance of the film is spent with various (and sometimes so absurdist - they defy logic) encounters that the crew has with other U.S. soldiers (some of whom have an unquenchable thirst to surf), enemy forces, a sexy USO show, peasants in a small boat, and finally, Kurtz's compound of death.  While there, he meets a photojournalist (Dennis Hopper), the silent Lt. Colby (Scott Glenn), who was already sent on the mission Willard is on, but fell in with Kurtz.  *SPOILER* Then, he kills Kurtz, and the film ends.  That's it.


However, that is far from "it."

Calling this film a masterpiece may be selling it a bit short.  Every moment of this film feels like it's there on purpose.

I'm going to start with the aural assault we experience.  Beginning with the very opening of the film, as we hear helicopter blades slicing the air in complement to the jangly, trippy prelude of The Doors' epic "The End," we are transported into the world of the film not only visually, but with our ears as well.  I must confess that the song has a special place in my heart (see above commentary on mood-altering drugs), and while this film was released before I discovered the piece, I always felt as if it had soundtrack potential.  I just didn't know then that Mr. Coppola had already thought of that.  I will also say that I cannot imagine a better use for the song, nor using better parts of the song than what is presented here.  It reappears at the end of the film...and...it's...well.  It's perfect.  Just perfect.  At the beginning of the film it is used to set the tone for what is to come, and to set us up for the insanity to follow.  At the end of the film, it's used to underscore the brutal ritualistic killing of an actual water buffalo (and Kurtz's assassination).  Whereas the beginning of the film focuses on the set up and lyrical content, the end of the film focuses on the pulsing sexual energy of the instrumental break in the song.  As I said, the use is perfect.  I haven't even gotten into the use of Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" during a rousing helicopter attack sequence (and I defy you not to be genuinely moved by this sequence), nor the PBR dancing to "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction", nor the instrumental track, which was composed by Coppola's father, Carmine, along with the drummers from the Grateful Dead.  Apparently, Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart came in and improvised their bits while watching a rough cut of the film, composing on the spot, and using a bizarre combination of drums, stringed rhythm devices, and whatever the hell else they felt like making noise with.  Coating the film with a hazy, disorienting feel, the soundtrack is amazing.  Just...amazing.

Visually, this film, in the hands of Cinematographer Vittorio Storaro (who won the Oscar for this film), is an absolute feast for the eyes.  Stuffed with cross fades that take a little longer than you would normally expect, along with dazzlingly well-choreographed moments, this film is a delight.  Scenes that take place in twilight really take on a sense of the changing mood of the sun, a battle sequence absorbs the smokiness around it, and the finale, with Kurtz shot in various shadows (Brando supposedly came up with the idea?) really drive home the overall theme.  We feel the "Heart of Darkness" throughout the film, and its visualization is executed flawlessly.  There is one scene, however, that is kind of in the background of the film's memorable moments. but one that I want to talk about here.  When the PBR lands at the bridge that essentially marks the border between Vietnam and Cambodia, it is night.  The entire scene is so confused, visually, because of the lack of light, that it brings us right into the moment.  We have no idea where we are, why we are, or anything.  Tack onto that the fact that Lance has taken acid in advance of this moment, and you've got a scene that really inserts its subconscious aspects into our consciousness.  The whole scene, visually, replicates a little, in its inability to remain focused, the feeling of LSD.  It's damned cool.  Damned cool.

At the center of all of this, of course, is Francis Ford Coppola.  I've talked about directors being really responsible for two things, the technical and the "moments."  I've described the technical above, but this film is also lousy with "moments."   Some may be acting choices, some may be director choices, but all of them are given the thumbs up or thumbs down by the guy in the center.  Let's talk briefly about a couple of things that we can use to illustrate this.  The entire character of Colonel Kilgore (Robert Duvall), whose name was supposed to be Colonel Carnage, is an absurd, profoundly impacting character.  Here's a tough as nails soldier, who relishes combat with ferocious, often humiliating consequences for the enemy, but who appreciates bravery, no matter what side it's on.  Oh, and he is really, really concerned with finding a place to surf.  REALLY concerned with it.  In fact, he picks a fight, specifically, to help the PBR up river, sure, but his secondary concern, and I think the real reason he went so gung ho for this assignment...was because the area that needed to be secured had the best surfing conditions he'd found in Vietnam.  Never seeking shelter/cover despite ordinance exploding all around him (also present in another Vietnam film tough guy, Sgt. Barnes in "Platoon"), Kilgore gets after a soldier to get out and surf in spite of the battle still raging.  That, THAT is the kind of thing that a director has a lot to do with.  Tack on to this so many other things (for example, just sticking Martin Sheen in a room and telling him to rage while he filmed it), and you see a filmmaker not just telling a story, but creating a work of art.

I mentioned "Heart of Darkness" as a theme.  I think Coppola's choice with this film is to make us question what that means.  Is it Kurtz only?  Is it Kurtz's followers?  What about Willard?  What about guys like Kilgore, or the Vietnamese?  Is it in all of us?  See, that's the way I view things.  I see every one of us as creatures capable of great evil or great good.  It is the choices we make that dictates which side we most see.  It is odd, to me, that great films about Vietnam tend to really get down to ambiguity over good/evil.  That's the overwhelming theme of "Platoon," "Full Metal Jacket," and this film.  Films about older wars tend not to get into that, and clearly define good versus evil.  Iraq war films tend towards the ambiguous, too, I suppose.  However, one thing that this film, and most Vietnam films do REALLY well is show how absolutely terrifying that particular conflict must have been, not because of the danger of violence, but because of the nature of the combatants.  ANYONE could be the enemy, and this film highlights that in two pivotal scenes.  One of them features the U.S. soldiers as the victims, and in the other, the peasants were.

Another key moment, for me, is the scene which is apparently lifted from the book, somewhat, when the PBR is attacked by an unseen enemy shooting arrows. It's terrifying, and when it is discovered that the arrows are just harmless sticks, one gets a moment of reprieve.  Then, out of nowhere, a spear is thrown into Chief's back, emerging from the other side.  His face, indeed, and the spoken line are priceless.  "A spear?!"  It takes us into that world.  It takes us into a world where ANYTHING can get us.  It says, all at once, "I signed up for the army to fight another army.  Now, I'm getting killed by a primitive method by an enemy that I'm not even sure is the enemy."  It's haunting, funny, and important.  Very, very important.

Acting performances in this film are good to great. Of particular note, of course, is Duvall.  His commitment to Kilgore is spot on.  I will say one thing, though.  You can really see the difference in how the lead carries the film between Martin Sheen and his son, Charlie, in "Platoon."   Sheen's performance in this is subtle at times, over the top when it needs to be, yet always, always, feeling like it bears an intense intellect behind it.  Charlie never felt that way in "Platoon."   Brando is terrifying as Kurtz, and although he didn't commit to the film, he absolutely commits to the character.  The only acting performance I really didn't care for was Hopper, but I think that was more a function of writing than Hopper's performance.  He's TOO wacky.  I never mentioned that both Harrison Ford and G.D. Spradlin are in this film, and both do capable jobs.

This film is brutal at times.  Graphic, for sure.  I cannot recommend it enough, though, as a piece of art.  I went on about audio and visual.  What I didn't mention is how much better the visual is because of the audio, and vice versa.  That's a great symbiosis, and as I've said before, it's really only available in film.  This film uses all those tricks to maximum effect, and you need to see it.

I should also mention that the version I watched had no credits, at the front or back of the film.  That is a great, great choice.

Roger Ebert was a HUGE fan of this film.  I defer to his eloquence in the article you can find here.

See this film.  It's that important.  It is.