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MASTER AND COMMANDER: THE FAR SIDE OF THE WORLD / Malcontent's Mark: A November 14, 2003 Directed by Peter Weir. According to tradition, English Romantic painter William Turner had himself tied to the mast of his ship when sailing through fierce rainstorms in the sea. These suicidal jaunts at the top of the main mast often inspired works like Shade and Darkness and Snowstorm – both of which depict nature as both menacing and powerful. One can easily assume director Peter Weir wanted to capture the same dark intensity of nature when lensing Master and Commander. Indeed, the captain of the HMS Surprise, Jack Aubrey, at one point hoists himself to the top of his ship’s main mast. Many audiences will respond to Master and Commander in much the same way Romantic philosophers Immanuel Kant and Edmund Burke responded to Turner’s collection: recognizing the work as sublime. Set during the Napoleonic wars, about the same time Turner was creating his masterpieces, Master and Commander is rendered in vivid historical detail. The HMS Surprise, carrying 197 souls and twenty-eight guns, has been ordered by the British to prevent the French from controlling the waters off Brazil. Upon one meeting with the Archeron, a French ship, the crew of the Surprise realize they face a formidable opponent. The film is confident in its story-telling, and it takes its time. Weir, director of films as diverse as Witness, Dead Poets Society and The Truman Show, and co-screenwriter John Collee know that a true adventure movie must have moments of quiet to make the moments of action that much more riveting. The film centers on two men, Captain Jack Aubrey and ship surgeon Stephen Maturin. They represent two sides of human nature – Aubrey is the swashbuckling man of action, while Maturin is more academic and contemplative. Aubrey has learned his role on the ship through experience and apprenticeship, Maturin has learned his role through books and his inquisitive nature. Weir and Collee allow these character nuances to reveal themselves naturally, without contrived pacing, even in the movie’s most intense action scenes. Russell Crowe fits perfectly in the role of Aubrey. Few actors can deliver lines like “look lubberly” and “This ship is England” without sounding sardonic or pretentious. Paul Bettany (who also played Crowe's companion, albeit an imaginary one, in A Beautiful Mind) infuses Maturin with introspection that inversely matches Crowe’s bluster. The captain sometimes teases the doctor, and there are moments when the doctor bruises the captain’s ego, yet both actors show a mutual respect that permeates the friendship. Aubrey and Maturin unwind by playing classical duets on the quarter-deck, the captain on violin, the doctor on cello. Crowe and Bettany imbue the characters with a mutual dependency that resonates. There is time to get to know several members of the crew. There are many boys among the crew. Many prove to be accomplished actors - most notably Max Pirkis, playing the bleached-blond adolescent Lord Blakeney. Both Maturin and Aubrey try to mold Blakeney into their images. Blakeney’s actions later in the film show that he has adopted traits from both men, wisely forgoing allegiance to one side of human nature. Pirkis’ Blakeney thus perfectly embodies the life of a crewman, possessing the patience to withstand the sea’s stillness and the courage to endure the sea swells of a tempest. The ships themselves become characters. The confidence Aubrey has in his ship’s “modern technology” may seem contradictory to the many shots of too many ropes, too many riggings, and cramped living quarters. Yet the Surprise proves to be a seaworthy vessel: she accommodates the crew majestically. The ship and the crew are one; we worry for the Surprise just as much as we worry for the crew. There’s a breath-taking moment when the Surprise emerges from fog after a terrible bludgeoning from the Archeron. Her deck is covered in severed ropes; we feel her utter defeat. Also, the enemy ship stays out of sight for most of the movie, yet its presence is always felt, making it reminiscent of the tractor trailer in Duel and the shark in Jaws. Both ships are remarkable in their authenticity. Weir had a life-size Surprise built, he filmed many scenes in the same vast tank in Baja California where scenes from Titanic were shot. The battles between the two ships have a frenetic doomsday horror, reminiscent of the first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan. The sequences are superbly shot by Russell Boyd and edited by Lee Smith. The scenes aboard these ships are not only visually stunning, but the sound effects editors will undoubtedly earn Oscar nominations. The ship’s every creak and groan, and every cannonball clatter, is gloriously transmitted in surround sound. And yet between the fierce battles and overpowering rainstorms, the quiet moments often resonate the most. There’s the mesmerizing scenery of a Galapagos Islands stopover, the solemn excursion through arctic waters, and, of course, the aforementioned reflections of man vs. nature. There’s a scene in 1988’s Die Hard that helped the movie transcend actioners of the time and hasn’t been reintroduced in any of the Die Hard copycats that have followed. It’s a scene that didn’t involve any explosions. It simply shows hero John McClane, battered and bleeding, seeking counsel with a cop over a walkie-talkie, questioning whether he can continue playing the hero. There’s a similar moment in Master and Commander when Maturin confronts Aubrey, asking him if he honestly knows when a man should finally surrender. It’s a beautiful moment when our hero reflects on his capacity for self-doubt. It’s the kind of psychological territory that many action movies fear to tread. Unfortunately, fans of hyperkinetic action may find the movie boring. The music of Mozart and Bach float over many sequences - most notably Bach’s Prelude is played during the Galapagos episode. But for those who are willing to tie themselves to the main mast of Weir’s masterpiece, be prepared for a ride into the sublime.
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