Skip to main content

They're not here to fish.


Captain Phillips
(2013)

Captain Phillips is exceptionally well made (provided you are not shakycam-phobic), edge-of-the-seat storytelling. On that level, it’s pretty much what you’d expect from the director of the latter two Matt Damon Bourne films. But that’s also the problem with it. A degree of topicality or political sensibility has informed most of Paul Greengrass’ big screen ventures, and this seemed poised to follow suit. Yet, on leaving the cinema, I was left puzzling over his reasons for adapting this real life drama. He has turned out a gripping action movie but one that ultimately amounts to little more than that.


When asked what attracted him to this account of the 2009 hijacking of Captain Richard Phillips’ container ship by Somali pirates, the director told Empire magazine “It’s the haves and have-nots, the big global wheels that are throwing up winners and losers”. Given his statement of intent and how tangentially (dare I say glibly) his film addresses this subject, I am still left wondering why he wanted to make it, or how he thought Billy Ray’s script would provide viewers with food for thought in this area. It’s one thing to make a fictional movie that provides incidental commentary on real world issues, but surely their "plucked from the headlines" choice brings an additional onus and responsibility? Is a particularly palpable white-knuckle ride the best one can expect?


There has already been much discussion on the ifs and maybes of whether the good Captain (he must be good, Tom Hanks is playing him) made the right decisions. In part, this coverage has been seen as a preamble to potential Oscar nominations (during the canvassing period mud tends to be slung vehemently at pictures purporting to base themselves on fact, but which deviate from the total truth, despite their not being up in the Best Documentary category). It’s a conversation worth having, but I’d suggest that any issues are as much to do with the choice of leading actor as anything the film gets intrinsically wrong.


The intimations that the captain may not have made the best choices are scant, and sink without trace beneath Hanks' intrinsic likability. This comes down to an issue of fidelity, and whether Greengrass is more concerned with his message (the haves and have-nots, remember) or attempting a character study of the captain warts and all. Given that we spend the majority of the running time in Captain Tom’s mental space, and the result most certainly falls on the side of heroic fortitude, I’d suggest Greengrass isn’t interested in presenting a balanced or accurate depiction of the man. I don’t think this need be a problem if the broader message comes through. The Phillips of the movie is shown as a diligent fellow concerned about possible attacks, who puts his crew through test drills. There are brief suggestions that he may not be safety-first, as we see him scanning, and ignoring, emails warning of the persistent piracy threat and arguing against steering a course clear of (immediately) dangerous waters. But nothing on screen approaches the claims by crew (11 of whom have brought a lawsuit against the shipping company) that he was extremely difficult to work with and willfully and stubbornly disregarded the imminent dangers (there were two, not one, brushes with pirates prior to the boarding depicted in the movie).


Captain Tom is hard-but-fair guy as seen, one who takes command decisively and shows a keen psychological perception of his opponents. He’s the everyman hero we are accustomed to from Hanks. I’m not suggesting Greengrass needed to perform a character assassination on the guy, but one might expect an attempt to balance the different takes; after all, his protagonist is also the co-author of the book Ray adapted. The casting of Hanks seals the deal; there is no Captain Bligh-esque doubt to be found here. Even the same script with a different lead (a Tommy Lee Jones type, say) would have cast a less unequivocal eye on the man.


Presumably the events inside the lifeboat are entirely from the real Phillips’ account (so, unless the imprisoned Muse has been interviewed, again it is entirely one-sided). During these scenes Phillips is a scared but cool-headed guy, whose crafty intrigues repeatedly outmatch his opponents (poor, ill-thinking impoverished fellows that they are). He offers to tend their wounds, and shows remarkable fortitude in talking back to and manipulating them (even with the prospect of ransoming him unharmed, it is a surprise that he is left off so lightly; there are no physical reprisals for the treatment Muse received in the engine room). It’s all a bit much to swallow. Even more so that Captain Tom offers empathic olive branches amid his personal plight; this is true American courage on display. He sadly reflects that Bilal is just a kid, reproves Muse for raiding a ship that is simply attempting to get food aid to starving Africans, and even has the gall to draw comparisons between their lots (they both answer to bosses, you know; even viewed as a piece of manipulation on Phillips’ part, this is pretty ungainly stuff). With all this, and by having heroic Captain Tom exclaim, during an especially dramatic moment, that Muse is “not just a fisherman”, Greengrass betrays that in fact this is straight-up Hollywood razzle-dazzle with a thin veneer of verisimilitude attached.


Hanks is very good, of course. The scene where he breaks down, unable to put his ordeal into words, is a master class of an unmannered performance. A shoe-in for a Best Actor Oscar nomination. But still, you are in no doubt that this is Tom Hanks, a guy who makes cold-blooded gangsters warm and cuddly (Road to Perdition). You're instantly on side with America's Mr Affable. Having him playing you is tantamount to movie canonisation.


Rather than Phillips, a more interesting conversation is just what the film thinks it’s about. Does Greengrass really think he is tackling the haves and have-nots subject with any degree of depth? It strikes me that this is a response he has rehearsed, rather than one that went in tandem with the story. Because, if it had, surely he would have felt compelled to broaden his canvas, to invite discussion of the wider political perspectives involved both in terms of the Somalis and the way the story turned into a massive media event (one which was twerked to the max). The director argues that this material “speaks to the world”, Third World armed desperation feeding off First World wealth. But does it really? When the US Navy (the cavalry!) shows up to save the day and order is preserved? Without the background of why such an overwhelming show of force was needed to save one man in peril on the sea (and at the direct order of President Obama no less; now there’s a publicity coup), or how these fearsome foreigners came to ply their piratical trade, Greengrass shortchanges the viewer and renders his movie rudderless. It may seem obvious to say it, but had one of the SEALs accidentally popped Captain Tom, we wouldn’t be watching the Hollywood version.


There is a bit of nominal background to the Somalis, but not enough that we have a real insight into their world (they are cajoled into their high seas sorties; their former livelihood as fishermen has been ruined by external plundering of stocks). We see volunteers for the raiding party assemble on dry land, and the initial stages of the film intercut with the embarkation of the Maersk Alabama. But we have also seen Captain Tom with his ever-loving wife (Catherine Keener), discussing their kids. None of these Somalis have families that we know of, and their humanity is dictated by degrees of culpability. Muse (an outstanding performance from Barkhad Abdi) genuinely appears to want the hijacking to go off without a hitch or casualties, despite earlier having unhesitatingly bashed in the head of a fellow Somali provocateur. Vying for authority is the unstable and khat-fuelled Najee (Faysal Ahmed), physically and temperamentally intimidating. On the opposite end of the spectrum is youngest crew member Bilal (Barkhad Abdirahman) with whom Captain Tom strikes up an almost paternal relationship after tending his glassy foot (aw).


Greengrass apparently wants to strip his movie down as much possible to the events on the ground (water). But this is a somewhat disingenuous decision when the back half of your movie concerns the pumped up firepower of the US Navy bearing down on these feckless Somalis, unlucky enough to mess with the greatest superpower on the planet. One starts to ponder why this section is quite so extended, particularly since a previously taut affair begins to sag under the weight of tension stretched that too far. If Greengrass was willing to truncate the crew’s experience in the bowels of the ship from 12 hours to what seems like about 90 minutes in the screen version (and no more than 20 minutes screen time), surely he could have pruned the pursuit of the lifeboat too? 


It’s not as if Captain Tom’s conversations foster any great insights (The “Maybe in America” response to Tom’s suggestion that there must be something else for the Somalis beyond fishing and kidnapping is as robust an exploration of the have-nots as Greengrass can muster). Do we really need to see the SEALs parachute to the rescue? Couldn’t we just rest easy in the knowledge that they are magically there (one also has to wonder at the casting director’s choice of the most steroidally-enhanced specimens imaginable for the team; surely these guys would need to be light on their feet?) Perhaps it’s just another of example of the legendary stature Hollywood affords these men (perhaps excepting that 1990 Charlie Sheen movie… no, dammit, let’s include it), as Greengrass finds himself fliming a virtual recruitment campaign for the SEALs. Whatever the director’s intentions, this imagery wholly plays into a validation of America’s “might is right” mentality; don’t mess with even one of our countrymen or your lives are forfeit.


Having said all this, I don’t think this movie is guilty of the willful ignorance of Black Hawk Down, Ridley Scott’s jingoistic celebration of American military prowess (despite that affair being nothing of the sort). There, the Somalis are faceless cannon fodder. Rather, Greengrass is guilty by omission. If you talk the talk, but aren’t willing to take the time to inform your audience, about what they are watching and why they are watching it, it is fair game to level the charge of misrepresentation and unfiltered mythmaking.


All of which is unfortunate because, by every other standard, this is a very good film. That is, every standard other than the one of failing to convey a message needed to justify making it in the first place. Greengrass uses handheld camera like no other director; if anything he has only honed this skills, ensuring the action is always clear and coherent. The bare bones of plot are a natural fit for a screen adaptation. A lack of familiarity with the narrative of the hijack had me expecting that the majority would take place on the cargo ship, so the manner in which the crew turns the tables on the pirates surprised and wrong-footed me.


I didn’t think I would have to accuse Paul Greengrass of conveying the level of understanding and piercing insight shown by Ron Howard to his true-life subjects, but he’s partially missed the boat with Captain Phillips. At times this film sails perilously close to being just another America versus the foreigners story. As an action/thriller it is first class, however.

***1/2
Labels:

Popular posts from this blog

I’m smarter than a beaver.

Prey (2022) (SPOILERS) If nothing else, I have to respect Dan Trachtenberg’s cynical pragmatism. How do I not only get a project off the ground, but fast-tracked as well? I know, a woke Predator movie! Woke Disney won’t be able to resist! And so, it comes to pass. Luckily for Prey , it gets to bypass cinemas and so the same sorry fate of Lightyear . Less fortunately, it’s a patience-testing snook cocking at historicity (or at least, assumed historicity), in which a young, pint-sized Comanche girl who wishes to hunt and fish – and doubtless shoot to boot – with the big boys gets to take on a Predator and make mincemeat of him. Well, of course , she does. She’s a girl, innit?
Read more

Everyone creates the thing they dread.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) (SPOILERS) Avengers: Age of Ultron ’s problem isn’t one of lack. It benefits from a solid central plot. It features a host of standout scenes and set pieces. It hands (most of) its characters strong defining moments. It doesn’t even suffer now the “wow” factor of seeing the team together for the first time has subsided. Its problem is that it’s too encumbered. Maybe its asking to much of a director to effectively martial the many different elements required by an ensemble superhero movie such as this, yet Joss Whedon’s predecessor feels positively lean in comparison. Part of this is simply down to the demands of the vaster Marvel franchise machine. Seeds are laid for Captain America: Civil War , Infinity Wars I & II , Black Panther and Thor: Ragnarok . It feels like several spinning plates too many. Such activity occasionally became over-intrusive on previous occasions ( Iron Man II ), but there are points in Age of Ultron whe
Read more

If you ride like lightning, you're going to crash like thunder.

The Place Beyond the Pines (2012) (SPOILERS) There’s something daringly perverse about the attempt to weave a serious-minded, generation-spanning saga from the hare-brained premise of The Place Beyond the Pines . When he learns he is a daddy, a fairground stunt biker turns bank robber in order to provide for his family. It’s the kind of “only-in-Hollywood” fantasy premise you might expect from a system that unleashed Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man and Point Break on the world. But this is an indie-minded movie from the director of the acclaimed Blue Valentine ; it demands respect and earnest appraisal. Unfortunately it never recovers from the abject silliness of the set-up. The picture is littered with piecemeal characters and scenarios. There’s a hope that maybe the big themes will even out the rocky terrain but in the end it’s because of this overreaching ambition that the film ends up so undernourished. The inspiration for the movie
Read more

This entire edifice you see around you, built on jute.

Jeeves and Wooster 3.3: Cyril and the Broadway Musical  (aka Introduction on Broadway) Well, that’s a relief. After a couple of middling episodes, the third season bounces right back, and that's despite Bertie continuing his transatlantic trip. Clive Exton once again plunders  Carry On, Jeeves  but this time blends it with a tale from  The Inimitable Jeeves  for the brightest spots, as Cyril Basington-Basington (a sublimely drippy Nicholas Hewetson) pursues his stage career against Aunt Agatha's wishes.
Read more

I’m the famous comedian, Arnold Braunschweiger.

Last Action Hero (1993) (SPOILERS) Make no mistake, Last Action Hero is a mess. But even as a mess, it might be more interesting than any other movie Arnie made during that decade, perhaps even in his entire career. Hellzapoppin’ (after the 1941 picture, itself based on a Broadway revue) has virtually become an adjective to describe films that comment upon their own artifice, break the fourth wall, and generally disrespect the convention of suspending disbelief in the fictions we see parading across the screen. It was fairly audacious, some would say foolish, of Arnie to attempt something of that nature at this point in his career, which was at its peak, rather than playing it safe. That he stumbled profoundly, emphatically so since he went up against the behemoth that is Jurassic Park (slotted in after the fact to open first), should not blind one to the considerable merits of his ultimate, and final, really, attempt to experiment with the limits of his screen persona.
Read more

I think it’s pretty clear whose side the Lord’s on, Barrington.

Monte Carlo or Bust aka  Those Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies (1969) (SPOILERS) Ken Annakin’s semi-sequel to Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines tends to be rather maligned, usually compared negatively to its more famous predecessor. Which makes me rather wonder if those expressing said opinion have ever taken the time to scrutinise them side by side. Or watch them back to back (which would be more sensible). Because Monte Carlo or Bust is by far the superior movie. Indeed, for all its imperfections and foibles (not least a performance from Tony Curtis requiring a taste for comic ham), I adore it. It’s probably the best wacky race movie there is, simply because each set of competitors, shamelessly exemplifying a different national stereotype (albeit there are two pairs of Brits, and a damsel in distress), are vibrant and cartoonish in the best sense. Albeit, it has to be admitted that, as far as said stereotypes go, Annakin’s home side win
Read more

Death to Bill and Ted!

Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991) (SPOILERS) The game of how few sequels are actually better than the original is so well worn, it was old when Scream 2 made a major meta thing out of it (and it wasn’t). Bill & Ted Go to Hell , as Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey was originally called, is one such, not that Excellent Adventure is anything to be sneezed at, but this one’s more confident, even more playful, more assured and more smartly stupid. And in Peter Hewitt it has a director with a much more overt and fittingly cartoonish style than the amiably pedestrian Stephen Herrick. Evil Bill : First, we totally kill Bill and Ted. Evil Ted : Then we take over their lives. My recollection of the picture’s general consensus was that it surpassed the sleeper hit original, but Rotten Tomatoes’ review aggregator suggests a less universal response. And, while it didn’t rock any oceans at the box office, Bogus Journey and Point Break did quite nicely for Keanu Reev
Read more

Just because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character.

Pulp Fiction (1994) (SPOILERS) From a UK perspective, Pulp Fiction ’s success seemed like a fait accompli; Reservoir Dogs had gone beyond the mere cult item it was Stateside and impacted mainstream culture itself (hard to believe now that it was once banned on home video); it was a case of Tarantino filling a gap in the market no one knew was there until he drew attention to it (and which quickly became over-saturated with pale imitators subsequently). Where his debut was a grower, Pulp Fiction hit the ground running, an instant critical and commercial success (it won the Palme d’Or four months before its release), only made cooler by being robbed of the Best Picture Oscar by Forrest Gump . And unlike some famously-cited should-have-beens, Tarantino’s masterpiece really did deserve it.
Read more

Poetry in translation is like taking a shower with a raincoat on.

Paterson (2016) (SPOILERS) Spoiling a movie where nothing much happens is difficult, but I tend to put the tag on in a cautionary sense much of the time. Paterson is Jim Jarmusch at his most inert and ambient but also his most rewardingly meditative. Paterson (Adam Driver), a bus driver and modest poet living in Paterson, New Jersey, is a stoic in a fundamental sense, and if he has a character arc of any description, which he doesn’t really, it’s the realisation that is what he is. Jarmusch’s picture is absent major conflict or drama; the most significant episodes feature Paterson’s bus breaking down, the English bull terrier Marvin – whom Paterson doesn’t care for but girlfriend Laura (Golshifteh Farahani) dotes on – destroying his book of poetry, and an altercation at the local bar involving a gun that turns out to be a water pistol. And Paterson takes it all in his stride, genial to the last, even the ruination of his most earnest, devoted work (the only disappoint
Read more

Piece by piece, the camel enters the couscous.

The Forgiven (2021) (SPOILERS) By this point, the differences between filmmaker John Michael McDonagh and his younger brother, filmmaker and playwright Martin McDonagh, are fairly clearly established. Both wear badges of irreverence and provocation in their writing, and a willingness to tackle – or take pot-shots – at bigger issues, ones that may find them dangling their toes in hot water. But Martin receives the lion’s share of the critical attention, while John is generally recognised as the slightly lesser light. Sure, some might mistake Seven Psychopaths for a John movie, and Calvary for a Martin one, but there’s a more flagrant sense of attention seeking in John’s work, and concomitantly less substance. The Forgiven is clearly aiming more in the expressly substantial vein of John’s earlier Calvary, but it ultimately bears the same kind of issues in delivery.
Read more