**** (out of ****)
Starring Russell Crowe, Paul Bettany, James D’Arcy, Edward Woodall, Max Pirkis, Robert Pugh, David Threlfall, and Billy Boyd
Directed by Peter Weir & written by Peter Weir and John Collee, from the novels by Patrick O’Brian
2003
139 min PG13
Dozen-or-So Best Films of 2003
Wow. Just…wow. “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World” is a superb, old-fashioned adventure for grown-ups in the style of “Lawrence of Arabia,” in which both the intimate and the epic have been crafted with same degree of care. The tall ships hurling cannon balls at one another is no more or less important than the lives and fears of those onboard them.
The plot is a simple one: in the age of Napoleon, the British frigate “Surprise” is ordered to capture or destroy the French ship “Acheron.” But an early encounter with the “Acheron” shows that it can out-maneuver and out-gun the smaller vessel, which leads to a battle of wits between the captains of the two ships. Their deadly dance lasts for months, if not for more than a year, and takes us along and around South America. We are with the British and we side with them, not because their cause is just or because the music tells us to, but because we come to know them, like them, and feel loyal to them, and want to see them survive. The British captain (Russell Crowe) has grown up aboard the “Surprise,” knows her and her crew, and will not let go of the enemy.
Let’s take a quick look at Russell Crowe’s recent resume, just to refresh our memories: best picture nominee “L.A. Confidential,” best picture and actor nominee “The Insider,” questionable best picture and actor winner “Gladiator,” and best picture winner and best actor nominee “A Beautiful Mind.” (Oh yeah, and that kidnapping movie with Meg Ryan, but let’s forget about that.) The common thread among these characters is a bulldog tenacity that we can all admire, typically coupled with some kind of antisocial tendency, either to beat suspects, bounce between silence and rage, or have imaginary friends. In “Master and Commander” he is as determined as ever, but he has also attacked the mystery of leadership. As he explains to a junior officer, a leader can afford to be neither a friend nor a tyrant, and there’s a little something of Crowe’s “Beautiful Mind” schizophrenic in how the captain must maintain this self-consciously created image for the men, while still keeping his humanity somewhere. He is repeatedly burdened with decisions about whether the lives of the crew outweigh the life of one sailor, or the chase, or the scientific purposes that are also part of the ship’s mission.
Crowe is joined by Paul Bettany, who played one of Crowe’s hallucinations in “A Beautiful Mind,” as the ship’s Irish surgeon. Like Spock, Kirk, and McCoy on the old “Star Trek,” who represented the mind, body, and spirit, Bettany and Crowe embody the twin impulses of mankind, the first to study and understand, the second to use and control. The two men are old friends and this allows them greater candor in discussing the social microcosm that is the “Surprise.” Both men are educated and play stringed instruments, but poor Bettany seems to be the only leftist aboard the entire ship. The surgeon knows much about science, but he alone seems to grasp sarcasm, satire, and the double entendre. He is, of course, beloved by the crew for pulling shards of metal and wood out of them, as well as, when necessary, dividing them from gangrenous limbs. But he knows when to keep his opinions to himself. Bettany is lukewarm when great military heroes are spoken of and wary when he overhears the sailors cheering for the enemy’s defeat. He is also perhaps the only Irishman in the history of cinema to promote sobriety.
There are about 130 other men aboard the “Surprise,” all of them with either scars or bad teeth, and I have no doubt there’s an actor or a stunt man for each of them. The bodies of the dead and wounded are probed for metal with which to make cannonballs. Midshipmen, the young sons of the wealthy who are set to become officers, are mostly teenagers, including one brave lad (Max Pirkis) who, despite an initial injury, is still obviously destined for great things. The movie is packed with subtle moments you can easily miss, such as when Crowe shares a wine glass with his crotchety manservant, or when Bettany discusses the hand of God in nature, or when the bad handwriting of a child is more meaningful than you first might think.
Terrific visual effects and art direction bring to life deadly encounters with the enemy and the elements. There are blinding storms, blinding smoke-filled battles, and the image of a man lost at sea, while not quite convincing, is at least artfully done. As for the books by Patrick O’Brian, upon which “Master and Commander” is based…who cares? Read them, don’t read them, whatever. A filmmaker’s first responsibility is to make a good film, not stick to his source material. Director Peter Weir has made a first-rate movie that holds together perfectly, and does not feel like a jumble of disparate episodes. About the only historical revisionism, or use of a modern lens, is in the development, or lack thereof, of the French themselves. At first glance, we may think we learn very little about the French, but subtle spoken clues and visual hints reveal that, in a way, we know as much about them as we do about the British. In the final battle, members of one side are indistinguishable from the other. Every look at the “Acheron” through a telescope reveals French officers looking back through their own telescopes. When Crowe wonders aloud what the captain of the “Acheron” is up to, Bettany responds by saying “he fights like you do.” Keep in mind that the average map separates France and the British Isles by less than an inch.
The movie is the work of Peter Weir, who has helmed such diverse projects as “The Truman Show,” “Gallipoli,” and “Picnic at Hanging Rock.” It is packed with opportunities to step wrong and become just another loud, dumb adventure. But all of them are avoided and I was surprised by “Master and Commander’s” restraint. The details, images, and characters are allowed to breathe without the heavy-handed editing, camera movements, and scoring to which we’ve become so accustomed in big epics like “The Last Samurai” and “The Lord of the Rings,” and even smaller pictures like “The Hours” and “House of Sand and Fog.” When the captain sees something suspicious floating on the water, there’s no giant musical cue. When he gives a speech to his men, there’s no music to go with that. In fact, there’s hardly any music at all; the trailer must have borrowed tunes from a different movie.
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