Hollywood, we have a problem.
At least we had a problem until The Bridges of
Madison
County and Apollo 13 cleared the studio gantries.
There can be little argument that the first part of this movie summer
was a
struggle. But our patience in slogging through Crimson Tide,
Congo,Casper,Die Hard With a Vengeance,Outbreak,Pocahontas, and the rest has been amply rewarded. Good-bye,
mediocrity;
hello… well, something emphatically better.
While the grosses for such films as Die Hard,Pocahontas, and
Braveheart have been good to astronomical, the two films that
have
generated the most excitement and created the longest lines (from my
perspective of north Austin theatres) are Bridges and Apollo
13.
Though it is already obvious to some, let’s note for the record that
these,
among mainstream Hollywood releases, are the two grown-up films of the
season.
It is not difficult to see the enormous appeal of these films. Both,
in their
ways, make heroes of ordinary people. There is tremendous power in
that.
Comic-action heroes offer speed, hardware, and fleeting, vicarious
thrills for
would-be adventurers. The heroes of Apollo 13 offer something
much more
resonant: identity. To see the crew of Apollo bickering with one
another as
they feverishly search for a way to save themselves is to get a glimpse
of
real-world problem-solving that, by the way, happened to shake the
world.
Against the backdrop of today’s big-dollar moviemaking, the
pre-release
promise of Apollo 13 seemed modest. Granted, there was that
splendid
cast made up of annual Oscar-winner Tom Hanks; Kevin Bacon, the
grown-up
bratpacker who has become pleasingly reliable; Bill Paxton, a much
underrated
talent; and Gary Sinise, whose theatrically honed skills have helped
make him
one of the most watchable second bananas of the day.
But given the industry’s scandalous habit of re-writing, sanitizing,
and
punching-up history, great doubts arose as to whether the story on
screen would
have any relation to actual events. Space program buffs were in knots.
One of
them, a good friend, swore he would-n’t see the film no matter what the
critics
said. Such is the legacy of films like JFK.
Verisimilitude’s ace in the hole was the screenplay by Texans William
Broyles
and Al Reinert. Dramatic license plays no part in key events, and
director Ron
Howard meticulously recreates the hair, clothing, and lifestyle
signatures of
the late 1960s. This fidelity to people and events is surely traceable,
in
part, to Reinert’s intimate involvement in matters lunar: He directed
the
documentary For All Mankind. Howard is to be admired for keeping
the
vision honest.
The news of Howard’s involvement with the project gave little
confidence to
this Opie-watcher. Howard’s films as director have tended to be richly
successful (Splash,Cocoon,Parenthood) or
ridiculous
failures (Willow,Backdraft). And he doesn’t just go from
one
extreme to another. Some of his films re-define mediocrity: Grand
Theft
Auto,Far and Away,The Paper. Through all of them,
one is
hard-pressed to find a personal signature. The title may say “A Ron
Howard
Film,” but it re-mains impossible to know what that really is.
One thing we do know is that, technically, he is extremely competent
and
knowledgeable about shotmaking and the rhythm of individual scenes. I
suspect
it is his experience as an actor that has helped him become one of the
more
effective directors of ensemble films, the evidence being
Parenthood,Cocoon,The Paper, and Apollo 13. If he has a style,
it’s his
ability to gather a fine cast, set up the shot, and get out of the
way.
Oddly, yet perfectly, Howard’s bland suburban style is ideally suited
to his
latest film. This is, after all, a story about more or less ordinary
folks
transcending their limitations, working as a unit, and thwarting
disaster. This
was a victory not of chiseled heroes but of faces in a crowd, and
Howard’s
competent but self-effacing approach is an affirmation of the ideal of
collaborative effort.
It’s true that a more visionary director might have produced a film
that would
also have been true to events – and dug deeper. There’s a terrific film
to be
made, perhaps, about why the mission went awry. This film would show
how a
critical switch, manufactured to the wrong spec, was installed in the
spacecraft, and how an oxygen tank had been dropped two years earlier.
Without
becoming a sneering attack on the space program, that film would also
illuminate the miscommunication and quality control issues that very
nearly
left three dead men in space.
Most moviegoers are not so demanding. The lines we are forming for
Apollo
13 are longer than any seen since the first Batman. And,
yes, some
of us are also paying to see Die Hard and Batman Forever.
Parents
are being dragged to Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and
Pocahontas.
But we should take heart that, in addition to a thriving Austin art
market
lately (Crumb, The Secret of Roan Inish, Burnt by the Sun), the
400-pound gorillas this summer are intelligent, tasteful films that
represent
the industry well.
Although it sometimes seems so, it’s not all comic books and video
games. n
This article appears in July 14 • 1995 and July 14 • 1995 (Cover).