Fuddland

Last night I watched John Woo’s Windtalkers; I really must urge every one of you to go out and buy this film immediately. In fact, buy two copies of it. Then—and this is the important bit—jump up and down on the box, pour acid over the DVD, swear profusely at the little booklet, and finally send it all back to John Woo and the lead actor Adam Beach with a nice note explaining what a terrible film they’ve made. There follow what might be called “spoilers” if they weren’t all entirely predictable elements of the film.

I can accept that they didn’t set out to make a drama-documentary on the development of the use of the Navajo language as an impenetrable code—even though that would have been far more interesting, albeit with fewer explosions and detached limbs—and were using the back-story to weave a tale about friendship and a general “horrors of war” sort of thing. The trouble is they made almost every character, and in particular the two main protagonists, impossible to care about. When US planes were carpet-bombing Japanese bases, with Marines cheering on the ground, I wasn’t cheering with them: I was loathing them for cheering at all.

Perhaps a Special Edition DVD could be released, in which the actors all have signs around their neck to made it even clearer which stereotype they are: “hardened but sensitive career Marine” [trying desperately, but failing utterly, to not become friends with the Navajo he might have to kill to prevent the Japanese capturing him]; “weedy one who doesn’t want to be at war really” [turn over that sign and it says “certain to be killed the minute he does something courageous”]; “Navajo-hating bigot” [small text underneath: “life to be saved by Navajo, forcing him to re-evaluate his prejudices”].

I can live with some of the story’s improbabilities, for the sake of movie magic; for example, the chances that a Navajo’s wooden pipe [of the musical kind] and an American’s metal harmonica would be anywhere near in tune with one another are, at best, slim to none, yet I allowed their jam sessions to proceed without protest.

And I can entirely accept that Bigot Marine would be wary of a Navajo in his platoon and take the first opportunity to beat him to a pulp as he washed in a lake because “without his uniform he looks like a Nip”. But for the Navajo to later decide that Bigot is correct in his assertions, dress up in a Japanese soldier’s uniform and infiltrate their camp to steal a working radio is just plain stupid. For the writers, the director, and not least Mr Beach himself for agreeing to partake in such a plot element, to think that the Japanese would not be able to immediately tell the difference between someone of their race and a Native American is insulting, in my opinion, and was raised at the time.

Beach’s matinee idol looks won him the lead in Disney’s Squanto: a Warrior’s Tale, but would certainly have given him away to the Japanese soldiers.

I’m not saying I am an expert at telling different races apart—I scored embarrassingly averagely on AllLookSame?—but these two races look very different and I don’t think it is the same as, say, a white American passing himself off as an Irishman [despite DiCaprio, Cruise and Fox demonstrating that the accent is beyond most Hollywood actors]; the way Woo didn’t allow the camera to remain fixed on a Japanese soldier for more than a couple of frames at a time suggests he knew how ridiculous an idea it really was.

#1

Phil | 2004 / 03 / 02 – 18:33

What possessed you to even consider it in the first place? Foolish mortal.

#2

Damian | 2004 / 03 / 03 – 11:25

Enjoyed the film then.

#3

David | 2004 / 03 / 03 – 16:42

Re #1: I did think, at the very least, I would enjoy the action—it’s John Woo after all—but even that was pretty lame. We learn from our mistakes etc.

Re #2: Yes, loved every minute of it. Couldn’t fault it at all. ;)

#4

Daisy | 2004 / 03 / 03 – 20:00

It was shown on Sky movies last week, glad I gave it a wide berth then. Shame, because it’s a fascinating subject.

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