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Apocalypse Now (18.)

Directed by Francis Ford Coppola.

Starring Martin Sheen, Marlon Brando, Robert Duvall, Laurence Fishburne, Dennis Hopper, Frederic Forrest. 153 mins

Good old Apocalypse Now; still crazy after all these years. It wasn’t the first movie to tell us that War Is Hell, but the first probably to suggest that that wasn't such a bad thing. It no doubt meant to deliver an anti-war message, but it just got lost in the chaos of making it. The word masterpiece gets bandied about in relation to Apocalypse but really as a war film it is nonsense and folly; which is why it is such a great war film.

Coppola’s Vietnam is an abstraction; all dry ice, long shadows and unexplained light sources. Whether it is an accurate representation of what happened in South East Asia is rather redundant: Apocalypse Now has largely replaced the actual conflict in people’s consciousness. Along with Full Metal Jacket it put a straitjacket on how American movies portray not just Vietnam but war in general; look at how all the Iraq/ War on Terror movies have struggled to make any impact or forge an identity of their own.

The decision to base it on Conrad’s Heart of Darkness was a fortunate one. It meant that however wayward the production went they had a nice simple story – man sails upriver in a jungle to look for another man – on which to hang all the stuff they had filmed.

Considering all the fuss that went into casting the role – everybody from McQueen to Pacino were considered; Harvey Keitel started out but got sacked, Sheen had a heart attack during filming – Willard is more or less a lead bystander, a variety compere introducing the turns. But what turns, Robert Duvall’s one man show of Catch 22; the helicopter assault; Dennis Hopper playing The Fool in the style of Charles Manson to Brando’s ….. well, whatever it is that Brando is doing at the end.

With a level of self-entitlement that is extraordinary even by actor standards, Marlon decided that this Vietnam film was all about him. A misshapen mass lumbering in darkness, demanding that everybody stop and watch him rail against the folly of a life spent demanding everybody stop and watch him act. This odyssey grinds to a halt with him.

He sure isn’t the warrior poet that the previous hour and forty five minutes builds him up to be. He is though a compelling insight into how a lot of charisma, a heap of self loathing and a little bit of learning can leave a man twisted and deluded. When it was released the final section was considered to be a disappointing end to an otherwise extraordinary journey but the Brando scenes are a big part of what keeps people coming back to the film. His monologues are so intense that when Coppola terminates one with an abrupt cut to a flame thrower in action, the fire comes as light relief.
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