29 March 2016
BEST SHOT: ZARDOZ
I'm in the thick of a suddenly & viciously busy week, but I could never, for any reason, bring myself to pass up this week's edition of Hit Me With Your Best Shot: of all the deliciously random movies Nathaniel could have chosen, he's decided that this week, we're to pick our favorite image from John Boorman's 1974 hallucination Zardoz, which features legendary tough guy Sean Connery dressed like this:
And also this:
Neither one of those is my choice for the best shot of the film, but it would be an obviously failure on my part if I didn't explain to you why exactly it was so deeply important that you see Zardoz at the earliest conceivable moment, at which point you will discover that it is set in a nightmare future where bored "Eternals", a nigh-immortal descendant group from humanity, sit in a valley and blandly work through a disaffected, sexless life, while the "Brutals" grow food in the charred remains of the world, offering it to the Eternals in the form of a giant flying stone head called Zardoz. It is a metaphor, for lots of things, and one starts to suspect that Boorman lost track of them by the midway point of the first draft.
The fascinating thing about the film is that it's beautifully shot by the great Geoffrey Unsworth, so its nonstop deranged visual concepts look absolutely great on top of being absolutely weird; this makes it, among other things, extraordinarily hard to pick a single favorite shot. I thought for a while that I might pick this great one-frame encapsulation of both how confusing and confused the movie is, as well as how Connery can never figure out what the hell he's supposed to be doing:
But I didn't want to have to go in for the kind of context necessary to describe what the hell the movie is up to at that point, assuming I even could. It comes awfully near the end, y'see.
So instead, for my actual pick for the film's best shot, I turned all the way back to the beginning, where the opening credits pause to show the Brutals' primitive subjugation to Zardoz, with Connery breaking away from the general anarchy to take notice of the camera behind him. He then pulls out his gun, and-
-cut to black, resume credits, and only a few moments later do we realize that Connery's Zed has managed to sneak onto Zardoz itself.
It makes to sum up a movie that's a violent attack on sense and the senses with a direct, violent confrontation with the audience. That's part of why I chose this. Part of it was also that I love the dramatic exaggeration of depth here, and the uncomfortable way the gun goes out of focus. But mostly, it's because any movie that has a character point a gun directly at the camera is, intentionally or not, directly engaging with The Great Train Robbery, Edwin S. Porter's 1903 masterwork, and the film that, if we can be too reductive for just a minute, birthed the entire history of narrative film as we now think of it. And yes, despite its all but complete absence of a meaningfully comprehensible plot, Zardoz is part of the history of narrative film.
It comes, also, from a deeply ambitious (or high as a goddamned kite) impulse to do something really different with narrative film, using images and editing in some, let's be polite and say "unusual" ways. This comes from the most experimental, radical period in mainstream English-language filmmaking, a time when it really did seem like there might be a completely new phase in cinema's expressive capabilities for the first time in generations. Was Boorman's visual reference a way of signifying that he expected his movie to stand in the new film history in the same place that The Great Train Robbery stood in the old? It is at least possible. Was Boorman simply thinking "ohmygod Sean Connery SO BADASS when he shoots the gun right at the audience bang! bang!" with no more than a child's attention to what the hell was going on around him? It is far more possible than the other thing. Anyway, it's the right way to open a movie that feels like the crazy dreams you might have as you lay bleeding to death.
And remember, boys and girls, the Gun is good; the Penis is evil.
And also this:
Neither one of those is my choice for the best shot of the film, but it would be an obviously failure on my part if I didn't explain to you why exactly it was so deeply important that you see Zardoz at the earliest conceivable moment, at which point you will discover that it is set in a nightmare future where bored "Eternals", a nigh-immortal descendant group from humanity, sit in a valley and blandly work through a disaffected, sexless life, while the "Brutals" grow food in the charred remains of the world, offering it to the Eternals in the form of a giant flying stone head called Zardoz. It is a metaphor, for lots of things, and one starts to suspect that Boorman lost track of them by the midway point of the first draft.
The fascinating thing about the film is that it's beautifully shot by the great Geoffrey Unsworth, so its nonstop deranged visual concepts look absolutely great on top of being absolutely weird; this makes it, among other things, extraordinarily hard to pick a single favorite shot. I thought for a while that I might pick this great one-frame encapsulation of both how confusing and confused the movie is, as well as how Connery can never figure out what the hell he's supposed to be doing:
But I didn't want to have to go in for the kind of context necessary to describe what the hell the movie is up to at that point, assuming I even could. It comes awfully near the end, y'see.
So instead, for my actual pick for the film's best shot, I turned all the way back to the beginning, where the opening credits pause to show the Brutals' primitive subjugation to Zardoz, with Connery breaking away from the general anarchy to take notice of the camera behind him. He then pulls out his gun, and-
-cut to black, resume credits, and only a few moments later do we realize that Connery's Zed has managed to sneak onto Zardoz itself.
It makes to sum up a movie that's a violent attack on sense and the senses with a direct, violent confrontation with the audience. That's part of why I chose this. Part of it was also that I love the dramatic exaggeration of depth here, and the uncomfortable way the gun goes out of focus. But mostly, it's because any movie that has a character point a gun directly at the camera is, intentionally or not, directly engaging with The Great Train Robbery, Edwin S. Porter's 1903 masterwork, and the film that, if we can be too reductive for just a minute, birthed the entire history of narrative film as we now think of it. And yes, despite its all but complete absence of a meaningfully comprehensible plot, Zardoz is part of the history of narrative film.
It comes, also, from a deeply ambitious (or high as a goddamned kite) impulse to do something really different with narrative film, using images and editing in some, let's be polite and say "unusual" ways. This comes from the most experimental, radical period in mainstream English-language filmmaking, a time when it really did seem like there might be a completely new phase in cinema's expressive capabilities for the first time in generations. Was Boorman's visual reference a way of signifying that he expected his movie to stand in the new film history in the same place that The Great Train Robbery stood in the old? It is at least possible. Was Boorman simply thinking "ohmygod Sean Connery SO BADASS when he shoots the gun right at the audience bang! bang!" with no more than a child's attention to what the hell was going on around him? It is far more possible than the other thing. Anyway, it's the right way to open a movie that feels like the crazy dreams you might have as you lay bleeding to death.
And remember, boys and girls, the Gun is good; the Penis is evil.
5 comments:
Just a few rules so that everybody can have fun: ad hominem attacks on the blogger are fair; ad hominem attacks on other commenters will be deleted. And I will absolutely not stand for anything that is, in my judgment, demeaning, insulting or hateful to any gender, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or religion. And though I won't insist on keeping politics out, let's think long and hard before we say anything particularly inflammatory.
Also, sorry about the whole "must be a registered user" thing, but I do deeply hate to get spam, and I refuse to take on the totalitarian mantle of moderating comments, and I am much too lazy to try to migrate over to a better comments system than the one that comes pre-loaded with Blogger.
this is great great great. whether or not as you claim it's tossed off due to a busy week. Love the Train Robbery reflection and the probable suggestion of Boorman being high as a kite.
ReplyDeletethe 70s are just so fascinating. wouldn't it be brill to see a movie about the making *of* this movie?
Oh no, this one wasn't tossed off. I would never treat Zardoz that way. It is much too precious to me. I've been rolling the movie around in my mind since you announced it.
ReplyDeleteI do, however, fear that the people waiting for my BvS review might burn my blog to the ground if I didn't at least nod towards the reason I wrote this before I wrote that.
Anyway, glad you liked it! It's a completely oddball pick for a movie, but it inspired me a whole hell of a lot.
And now I want a Tim review of Zardoz more than I've wanted anything in my life.
ReplyDeleteI'm going to meditate on it. At second level.
"Um, it was the '70s" - John Boorman.
ReplyDeleteNever even considered "The Great Train Robbery"; I assumed that, it was also a side-eyed glance towards the iconic image of Bond firing at the camera to open the credits. But my movie-viewing experience always lack historical film context and perspective and nuance.
ReplyDelete