Salvador (18.)
Directed by Oliver Stone. 1986.
Starring James Woods, James Belushi, John Savage, Michael Murphy and Elpedia Carrillo. 123 mins. Out on Dual Format Blu-ray/ DVD from Eureka! Masters Of Cinema series
Stone's born-again debut directorial feature* is, as you'd would expect, a crusading vehicle exposing the immorality of US foreign policy and cheering on left-wing rebels. It would be released the same year as Platoon, the Oscar-winning Vietnam epic (or low budget, Full Metal Jacket pre-empter) and these two films set Stone in his role as Hollywood's most vociferous anti-government lefty. Prior to this though Stone's political allegiances were all over the place. As the scriptwriter of Midnight Express, Conan The Barbarian, Year of the Dragon and Scarface he was more likely to be labelled fascist or racist than liberal. In Salvador, the struggle between his boorish nature and his stated political ideals is still raging.
Set in 1980/1, events mostly straddle the period between Reagan being elected and taking office. In the tiny central American Republic of El Salvador, the CIA and the State Department are taking a keen interest in the civil unrest and the growing guerrilla movement, fearing it will be a route for the Sandinistas in neighbouring Nicaragua to spread their communist revolution. The Salvador people are just concerned about trying to avoid the roaming right wing death squads that are randomly slaughtering men, women and children.
Into their nightmare, and in an ironic parallel to its foreign policy, America sends them down another nightmare in the shape of sleazebag photojournalist Richard Boyle (Woods) and San Francisco DJ Dr Rock (Belushi.) Washed up in San Francisco, they jump into Boyle's battered car and head down through Central America to Salvador where Boyle still has contacts and a young lady he loves (Carillo.) Boyle is winging it trying to restart his career, playing a hunch that the civil war is going to erupt into something newsworthy; Dr Rock tags along, despite his vague concern that they kill people down there, because Boyle has promised him unspoilt beaches and cheap whores, drugs and booze.
The anti-American sentiment of Salvador didn't come out of nowhere. Previously in the 80s, there had been Missing in which upright American citizen Jack Lemmon discovers the truth about US involvement in the Chile coup in 1973 when his son becomes one of the Disappeared, and Under Fire about photojournalists Nick Nolte, Joanne Cassidy, Gene Hackman and Ed Harris in Nicaragua. I'm not sure Stone's film is really any kind of quantum leap in quality but it does replace their conventional message picture disdain with gonzo irreverence. For a film featuring mass graves, gang rapes and dismembered children it's surprisingly jaunty with Boyle and Rock tearing around getting drunk and stoned and insulting every authority figure they come across.
Still, fear and loathing in El Salvador is a perilous approach: it's the spirit-of-the-60s ugly Americans versus 80's ugly Americans. They aren't white saviours but there are moments when you wonder why these degenerate drunks and their cavortings are taking precedence over the locals' suffering.
Stone isn't a man to tiptoe through the tulips; he's more likely to stomp through them while announcing loudly that it's terrible what US foreign policy is doing to tulips. Take the title credits. In big bold red letters, the name of the film and the main actors are blasted up on the screen to the accompaniment of George Delerues thumping score. Behind them in black and white is what looks like news footage, or a very convincing recreation (Stone isn't clear on his Director's Commentary), of Salvadorians sheltering on church steps when the army opened fire indiscriminately on a demonstration. The film's critique of the CIA's cavalier disregard for the suffering of people in other countries and their use as pawns in their geopolitical games is often mirrored in Stone's approach.
Overall though, Salvador is the best of Stone, angry and freewheeling. Watching it when it came out it felt like something fresh, a way of making committed cinema that was engaging and enjoyable, a move away from the piety of most Hollywood message pictures. And James Woods is compelling as Boyle and Belushi is actually much better than I remember as Dr Rock. I imagine playing arseholes isn't so much of a stretch for either of them but the picture is one of the few to really tap into Woods sleazy on-screen charisma.
* In the 70s he had directed horror flicks Seizure and The Hand, but he probably wouldn't thank you for mentioning it.
Extras.
The story of the making of the film is fascinating so I'd definitely recommend the documentary and the deleted scenes.
Feature-length audio commentary with director Oliver Stone
• An extensive archival interview with Oliver Stone at the BFI
• A rarely heard, lengthy audio interview with Oliver Stone from 1986
• Into The Valley of Death (62 mins) – A documentary on the making of Salvador
• Deleted and Extended scenes
• Original theatrical trailer
• A collector’s booklet featuring a new essay by critic and journalist Barry Forshaw; extracts from the film’s original press-book; and archival imagery
• Reversible Sleeve
Directed by Oliver Stone. 1986.
Starring James Woods, James Belushi, John Savage, Michael Murphy and Elpedia Carrillo. 123 mins. Out on Dual Format Blu-ray/ DVD from Eureka! Masters Of Cinema series
Stone's born-again debut directorial feature* is, as you'd would expect, a crusading vehicle exposing the immorality of US foreign policy and cheering on left-wing rebels. It would be released the same year as Platoon, the Oscar-winning Vietnam epic (or low budget, Full Metal Jacket pre-empter) and these two films set Stone in his role as Hollywood's most vociferous anti-government lefty. Prior to this though Stone's political allegiances were all over the place. As the scriptwriter of Midnight Express, Conan The Barbarian, Year of the Dragon and Scarface he was more likely to be labelled fascist or racist than liberal. In Salvador, the struggle between his boorish nature and his stated political ideals is still raging.
Set in 1980/1, events mostly straddle the period between Reagan being elected and taking office. In the tiny central American Republic of El Salvador, the CIA and the State Department are taking a keen interest in the civil unrest and the growing guerrilla movement, fearing it will be a route for the Sandinistas in neighbouring Nicaragua to spread their communist revolution. The Salvador people are just concerned about trying to avoid the roaming right wing death squads that are randomly slaughtering men, women and children.
Into their nightmare, and in an ironic parallel to its foreign policy, America sends them down another nightmare in the shape of sleazebag photojournalist Richard Boyle (Woods) and San Francisco DJ Dr Rock (Belushi.) Washed up in San Francisco, they jump into Boyle's battered car and head down through Central America to Salvador where Boyle still has contacts and a young lady he loves (Carillo.) Boyle is winging it trying to restart his career, playing a hunch that the civil war is going to erupt into something newsworthy; Dr Rock tags along, despite his vague concern that they kill people down there, because Boyle has promised him unspoilt beaches and cheap whores, drugs and booze.
The anti-American sentiment of Salvador didn't come out of nowhere. Previously in the 80s, there had been Missing in which upright American citizen Jack Lemmon discovers the truth about US involvement in the Chile coup in 1973 when his son becomes one of the Disappeared, and Under Fire about photojournalists Nick Nolte, Joanne Cassidy, Gene Hackman and Ed Harris in Nicaragua. I'm not sure Stone's film is really any kind of quantum leap in quality but it does replace their conventional message picture disdain with gonzo irreverence. For a film featuring mass graves, gang rapes and dismembered children it's surprisingly jaunty with Boyle and Rock tearing around getting drunk and stoned and insulting every authority figure they come across.
Still, fear and loathing in El Salvador is a perilous approach: it's the spirit-of-the-60s ugly Americans versus 80's ugly Americans. They aren't white saviours but there are moments when you wonder why these degenerate drunks and their cavortings are taking precedence over the locals' suffering.
Stone isn't a man to tiptoe through the tulips; he's more likely to stomp through them while announcing loudly that it's terrible what US foreign policy is doing to tulips. Take the title credits. In big bold red letters, the name of the film and the main actors are blasted up on the screen to the accompaniment of George Delerues thumping score. Behind them in black and white is what looks like news footage, or a very convincing recreation (Stone isn't clear on his Director's Commentary), of Salvadorians sheltering on church steps when the army opened fire indiscriminately on a demonstration. The film's critique of the CIA's cavalier disregard for the suffering of people in other countries and their use as pawns in their geopolitical games is often mirrored in Stone's approach.
Overall though, Salvador is the best of Stone, angry and freewheeling. Watching it when it came out it felt like something fresh, a way of making committed cinema that was engaging and enjoyable, a move away from the piety of most Hollywood message pictures. And James Woods is compelling as Boyle and Belushi is actually much better than I remember as Dr Rock. I imagine playing arseholes isn't so much of a stretch for either of them but the picture is one of the few to really tap into Woods sleazy on-screen charisma.
* In the 70s he had directed horror flicks Seizure and The Hand, but he probably wouldn't thank you for mentioning it.
Extras.
The story of the making of the film is fascinating so I'd definitely recommend the documentary and the deleted scenes.
Feature-length audio commentary with director Oliver Stone
• An extensive archival interview with Oliver Stone at the BFI
• A rarely heard, lengthy audio interview with Oliver Stone from 1986
• Into The Valley of Death (62 mins) – A documentary on the making of Salvador
• Deleted and Extended scenes
• Original theatrical trailer
• A collector’s booklet featuring a new essay by critic and journalist Barry Forshaw; extracts from the film’s original press-book; and archival imagery
• Reversible Sleeve
