Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Random Movie #6: The Wind that Shakes the Barley

For our sixth random Netflix movie, Becky and I saw the 2006 war drama The Wind that Shakes the Barley.  I have wanted to see this movie since it first came out in 2006.  Initially it was because it looked interesting and starred Cillian Murphey.  Later, this grew to include its Palme d'Or win from that year (best described as the equivalent of winning a Nobel Prize in film).

Damien (left) and Teddy (right)

In rural 1920s Ireland, Dr. Damien O'Donovan (Cillian Murphey) prepares to leave his hometown for a job in a London hospital.  After a farewell game of Hurling (a game similar to Field Hockey), a group of English soldiers confront them for hosting an illegal public gathering, resulting in the summary execution of friend Micheál Ó Súilleabháin (Laurence Barry).  After his initial misgivings about fighting an unwinnable war, Damien's brother Teddy (Pádraic Delaney) convinces him to join the Irish rebels in their war against English oppression.  But while Teddy is satisfied to compromise with the English, Damien will not be satisfied until Ireland achieves full independence.


The Wind that Shakes the Barley is an a-typical war drama, having far more in common with dialog-heavy dramas like 12 Angry Men than with action-laden epics like Saving Private Ryan.  Rather than focusing on the sanguine skirmishes between the Irish rebels and English troops, the film emphasizes the surrounding debate of Irish nationalism and independence.  The real battles are not fought amidst the fields of Anthenry over territorial gains, but in the court rooms and churches over the distribution of wealth and the exact nature of the new Irish government.  The war itself, which ends 45 minutes before the end of the film, merely exists to provide context for such a debate.  



The film is a deeply immersive experience that steeps the viewer in the fiercely-fractured context of 1920s Ireland.  Its title - The Wind that Shakes the Barley - is drawn from Robert Dwyer Joyce's tragic ballad of the same name, which is sung during Micheál Ó Súilleabháin's funeral.  The song, which strongly parallels O'Donovan's own story, tells of an Irishman torn between his nationalist love of Ireland and his romantic love of his sweetheart.  After his lover is murdered by an English soldier, he joins the IRA and fights in the war.  Its choral references of barley refer to the fact that the Irish rebels would carry barley in their pockets as marching provisions.  When soldiers killed in combat were buried, the barley would take root and cover their unmarked graves.

Another song prominently featured in the film is Óró, Sé Do Bheatha Abhaile, a traditional ballad that was intensely popular during the Irish War of Independence.  The song welcomes home the soldiers who have "scatter[ed] the foreigners" that have threatened the country, comparing them to national heroes like the pirate queen Grace O'Malley.  It is performed by the Irish rebels emerging from a fog-seeped road, marching toward the a stationary camera and accompanied only by their footfalls.  Though it lasts less than a minute on camera, it remains one of the most enthralling and memorable moments within the film.



At the heart of The Wind that Shakes the Barley is an intensely personal tragedy.  Much like the American Civil War, which pitted entire families against one another, brothers Damien and Teddy ultimately find themselves on opposing sides following the Ireland's eventual treaty with England, which turns Northern Ireland into a Puerto Rico-like commonwealth that remains under English control.  Damien refuses to stop fighting until Ireland is completely independent of England, accusing Teddy of "wrapp[ing himself] in the [...] Union Jack: the butcher’s apron."  Teddy, fearful of England's threat of "an immediate and terrible war" if hostilities should continue, believes that the treaty is the best possible outcome that they, a rag-tag group of rebels, could hope for.


The Wind that Shakes the Barley easily numbers among the best war movies ever made despite, paradoxically, de-emphasizing the events of the war proper.  Unlike most films, where anticipation breeds disappointment, this one was well worth the seven-year wait.  While Becky only rates this exceptional film an 8, I rate it a 9, placing it on par with the likes of Apocalypse Now, Lincoln and A Man Escaped.

Monday, November 4, 2013

Random Movie #5: Don't Be Afraid of the Dark

For our fifth Netflix installment, we returned to one of my additions to the bucket: the 2010 horror film Don't Be Afraid of the Dark.  First shown to me by an intensely enamored friend, it seemed to me that it would be something that Becky and I would enjoy watching together.

Eight-year-old Sally Farnham (Bailee Madison) has recently moved to Rhode Island to live with her estranged father Alex (Guy Pearce) and his girlfriend Kim (Katie Holmes) while they restore the ancient Blackwood Manor for resale.  Even though Alex and Kim try to make her feel welcome, all she wants to do is to go back to her old home with her mother.  One morning, while exploring Blackwood's extensive grounds, Sally discovers a hidden chamber accidentally frees a tribe of pixie-like creatures.  It is only afterwards, however, that she realizes that they want to kidnap her and bring her to their warren under the manor.  Her father refuses to believe that she is telling the truth, leaving her to defend against these nocturnal invaders on her own.


Though not an altogether inaccurate label, I would hesitate to advertise Don't Be Afraid of the Dark as a horror film.  Doing so creates an inaccurate set of expectations in the viewer (similar to my opinion of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Last House on the Left).  Between its whispered threats and murine antagonists, it is intimately more creepy than terrifying.  It could be more appropriately described as a melancholic meditation of the effects of a broken home on a too-often overlooked child.

To this end, the film is structured less like a modern horror film than it is a Greek tragedy.  The imps in the house are only a threat to Sally, whose most formidable weapons are a night light and a Polaroid camera.  Though he was capable of stopping the imps' assault throughout the film, Alex is too preoccupied with his work to take even the slightest notice of the danger that his family is in.  By neglecting Sally's need for companionship when she first arrived, he opened her to the tempting offers of friendship that the imps promised her in exchange for releasing them.  By refusing to believe Sally's increasing visible fears, he placed all three of them perpetual danger.  By refusing to leave the house when even Kim was begging him to, he ensured that the creatures would tear his family apart.  Although Alex himself survives the ordeal, he is burdened with the guilt of knowing that his constant inaction directly resulted in the film's tragic climax.

By starring a girl who was only eight-years-old at the time that filming began, director Troy Nixey and writer / producer Guillermo del Toro took a considerable risk with the emotional core of the film.  The old Hollywood adage, "never work with animals and children," is a direct warning against making this exact kind of child-centric film.  The quality of child actors is notoriously unpredictable, running the gamut from Daniel Radcliffe to Jake Lloyd.  "Not terrible" is often the best that anybody can expect.


Bailee Madison, however, gave a rare and moving performance as the haunted Sally Farnham.  Her character is surprisingly complex, torn between her instinctual need for her father's protection and her aversion toward a man who is essentially a complete stranger to her.  Madison's performance captures every nuance of a girl forced into a broken family.  She conveys the sour resentment of being uprooted from a reasonably stable home, the giddy wonder of a girl discovering strange new "friends" and the desperate need to be believed.  Amidst a solid-but-forgettable cast, she succeeds at giving a truly exceptional performance.


Don't Be Afraid of the Dark features all of the darkly beautiful visuals that are characteristic of Guillermo del Toro.  Blackwood Manor, rooted with secret passages and draped in heavily saturated colors, is entrancingly beautiful.  It is a pristine vision of old world opulence.  This, in turn, is contrasted against the savage imps that infest its walls, nightmarishly rendered on paper as often as they emerge from the shadows.



On the whole, Don't Be Afraid of the Dark is a solidly entertaining and reasonably executed horror film.  Becky and I agree that this film is a solid 7, comparing favorably to Alien, Carrie and E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial.