Another list. Another obvious sign of Cant-block.
I list this flick in my top-ten list of all-time favorite movies. I adore this film. I haven't seen it enough times to memorize the dialog. I haven't seen all its many variations. I don't even own any related paraphernalia, besides maybe the soundtrack. I say I adore this movie because when I think back to it, it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling.
It most definitely is not a warm and fuzzy film, so I've had a little trouble over the years explaining my adoration to myself and to others.
It suffers from some of the same vagaries as another of my favorite movies, Blade Runner. Terry Gilliam ran off and made a film that the movie execs decided was unsellable. The president of the movie company butchered the work into his own version, changing the ending, replacing the score, trying to find the magic Big Mac combination that would translate into big box office. Terry Gilliam took a full-page add in Variety in protest. He walked the streets handing out tickets to showings of his film.
So what do I find so compelling about it?
To start with, it's as funny as hell. Funny in an acidly cynical way. The sort of funny that has you gritting your teeth as you chuckle. The sort of funny that has gems like this sprinkled throughout: "Don't fight it son. Confess quickly! If you hold out too long you could jeopardize your credit rating."
It's also a film of grand vision, or maybe grand visions. All of Terry Gilliam's work has more or less of a touch of the magic mushroom about it. Lots of ducts, baby masks on tortures, a giant samurai…
I guess I like it mostly because of its awareness of the little insanities of modern life. Any one of them taken separately would be merely an annoyance. Taken all together, you have a seriously dehumanizing mess. My first day of work in Palo Alto, I noticed that all the ductwork was exposed in the ceilings. Our "new" building in Mountain View not only has exposed ductwork, but it's painted a daring, fashionable yellow!
On a deeper level, I like it because Sam escapes in the end. Lint and Helpman are still trapped and are still integral parts of the system. Sam is off living with Jill in the countryside. And I'm not referring to the "happy ending" Hollywood version here.
It may be hard to admit for some folks, but this is a classic.
It is a classic for many of the same reasons that Star Wars is a classic.
Aside from some of the same names being associated with both flicks, they are both modern incarnations of the adventure serials of the 1930s. They both star Harrison Ford as a swashbuckling, practical, and human hero. They also made so much cash that they doomed all subsequent installments. Every Indy or Star Wars movie made since has quickly ground its way down to nearly comical irrelevance.
I loved Raiders because I didn't know what to expect. In the first few minutes, I wasn't sure who was bad and who was good. The man in the hat obviously had pushed his companions beyond reasonable bounds. He looked obsessed. He wielded that whip with preternatural skill. He did not smile. And then the rest of the movie continued to unfold and delight from there.
All the other movies have suffered from a sort of insecurity on the part of the movie makers. It's as if they know that people will be expecting to be greatly entertained. They mistake "great" for "big" and then they turn Indy into James Bond. Each challenge grows in complexity. Each stunt requires more money. Each chick gets progressively hotter. But hot chicks, big bangs, and dance numbers aren't what I paid for. I want to be entertained. Few films have been able to do that like Raiders.
No depths of the soul to plumb here. This flick is a delightful confection of manners and personalities, much like Charade. It even stars Cary Grant. Instead of the debonair cipher of Charade, Grant's leading man in this movie is a cad, a drunkard, and a shirker. Apparently this film bombed at the box office. People didn't want to see Walter Christopher Eckland. They wanted to see Cary Grant. It's a shame, because this film contains one of my favorite quotes in moviedom: "Goody Two-Shoes and the Filthy Beast?!"
Pakeha