Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
I love it when people say “Why don’t they make them like they used to?” Who are they, and what did they used to make? And why was it so much better than what they make today? So many questions, so little time.
You must make time for “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World,” a sweeping human epic that proves they don’t make them like they used to, they make them better. “Master and Commander” fills the screen with heroic characters, a strong sense of time and place, seamless visual effects, and eye candy cinematography.
Behind the camera is director/co-writer Peter Weir, known for his vision and ability to create strong characters caught in the middle of adversity. Harrison Ford’s Philadelphia Cop hiding out in Amish country in “Witness” or Jeff Bridges looking for meaning of life in “Fearless” are just two examples of Weir’s exploration of what drives men.
“Master and Commander” is a perfect example of a Weir film, a larger-than-life adventure grounded by the performance of Russell Crowe as Capt. Jack Aubrey, the commander of the HMS Surprise, a British warship assigned to track down and end the tyranny of the French frigate Acheron. As a man of honor devoted to his crew, ship and the Navy,, Crowe is exceptional. He embodies the soul of a commander who understands that he’s also dealing with the human element.
That realization makes “Master and Commander” a superior piece of film-making. Weir, like Aubrey, never loses sight that the best drama is man made, and along with co-writer John Collee, creates exchanges between characters that are involved and occasionally gripping. Weir has us in and out of battle so fast that we really don’t get time to spend with each character, but thanks to sharp and vivid dialogue, we get a sense of who they are.
Since all of the action takes place on or below the decks of the HMS Surprise, it’s important that we understand who these men are, their devotion, and their loss. Some remain nameless, others become momentary friends, but Weir constantly reminds us that life is unexpected and full of surprises. Once we grasp that, we find ourselves paying more attention to the rest of the characters.
The reason they don’t make them like they used to is because when they used to make them like they used to, it was a more innocent time. Pirate and battleship movies were shot in outdoor and indoor studio tanks. They were big and colorful, but they were pure fantasy. “Master and Commander,” like “Pirates of the Caribbean” and “Gladiator” before it, succeeds because it mixes good, old fashioned Hollywood movie making with state-of-the-art effects and modern sensibilities. These films didn’t go out of favor, they just took a breather until Hollywood could make them right. Anyone who saw “Swashbuckler” knows the crew never left the studio. How can we invest in characters that inhabit an absurdly fake world?
Weir and his technicians never insult us with phony artifice, leaving us breathless and convinced that the characters inhabit this world. Weir mixes and matches various film elements to create stunning storms and battle scenes, and never once do we suspect that we’re being tricked. When your characters and their world are solid and believable, the rest is easy sailing.
One of the things I’ve always appreciated about Weir is his ability to choose interesting actors to support his leading man, and “Master and Commander” is no different. Paul Bettany, who worked with Crowe in “A Beautiful Mind,” is striking as Stephen, the ship’s doctor and practicing naturist, and long time friend of Aubrey. Stephen is the film’s voice of reason, a man who understands the method behind Aubrey’s madness, yet finds it difficult to tell him when he crosses the line.
Weir and Collee do a terrific job of streamlining Patrick O’Brian’s books, literally picking their battle for the first in what they hope will be a series of films. The writers effortlessly draw us into the story, and thanks to Russell Boyd’s hovering camera, we find ourselves right in the middle of the action. Weir manages to capture the intensity of hand-to-hand and projectile battle without the explicit carnage. What was once shocking and disturbing (“Saving Private Ryan”) now seems commonplace, so for Weir to pull back makes the action scenes powerful yet accessible.
I liked everything about “Master and Commander.” It was adventurous, relied on character to carry the story, amazed me with its visual poetry, and proved that in the right hands, under the right conditions, with the right cast, they do make them like they used to, only better.
