kitty
02-01-2004, 11:15 AM
What America is 'Cold Mountain' Located in?
Historical epics have traditionally had high success rates at the Oscars. There's something about Hollywood playing the role of educator that self-important producers find appealing, rewarding those filmmakers with Oscar nods. 'Cold Mountain' is no exception -- it is a pretentious pseudo-artsy epic with a 'Gone with the Wind' meets 'The Oddyssey' feel, all set in North Carolina during the Civil War.
Historical epics can be pretty good, and this film certainly falls into that genre ... if by 'historical' producers meant 'we made all this shit up'. Trying to focus a movie on the Confederate side of the Civil War means treading on thin ice in the first place -- but don't beat around the bush and try to divorce your characters from slavery! Many of the Confederates fought for different reasons, but let us not forget that one of these reasons was the right to keep slaves. In 'Cold Mountain', the characters may have been too poor to own slaves themselves, but then why do they fight? What drives them to sacrifice their lives if not slavery? This question must be addressed.
'Cold Mountain' follows the story of two star-crossed lovers, Inman (Jude Law) and Ada (Nicole Kidman) whose brief romance is critically interrupted by the start of the Civil War. Law goes off to fight on the Confederate side (and why, we do not know, other than because he is drafted by the Confederate army, but he shares no enthusiasm for the cause) while Ada and her father, the minister of Cold Mountain (Donald Sutherland), represent the 'homefront' of the war.
Unfortunately, the movie takes 'historicism' only to a point, and then does a sharp 180 towards easy escapism. Ada, even in her darkest days, remains immaculate and beautiful, to the point of unrealism. Late in the movie, she traverses the wilderness of Cold Mountain (the mountain) in a beautiful black trenchcoat and hat, that would look more in place on the streets of 20th century Manhattan than mid-1800 rural North Carolina. Even something so tiny as a cadre of eight runaway slaves being 'run over' by three men on horses, all killed without any of the horses breaking stride, adds to the implausibility of the movie. Moreover, at one point, Ada brings a tray of cider to the 'negroes' (yes, apparently even historicism cannot bring the producers to use the n-word). This begs two questions: why would Kidman's character use the word 'negro', when it was practically unused at the time? More importantly, why would she be bringing drinks to the slaves? Remember, at this time, slaves were not considered fully human.
Jude Law as Inman is attractive, but hardly your usual Confederate. He is quiet, unassuming, and holds none of the basic perceptions of your usual southern soldier. He disdains slavery, or at least believes slaves to have lives not worth killing (which is highly unlikely in the south at the time), does not seem to hate Lincoln, and in fact seems to have no real opinions of his own
other than to be a walking, aesthetically-pleasing, puppet heading back to his love, Ada. In this way, he is defined as little more than his journey -- he is not a man on a mission, but a mission encapsulated in a man.
Ada is your basic poor little rich girl southern belle; her story is typical. The harshness of reality forces her to do away with her soft, wealthy ways, even though she wasn't happy in the first place. It's an old role which we have seen before, and Kidman does nothing unusual with it, save allow a few of her golden brown Australian locks to fall out of place from time to time as
she angsts over her lot in life. Renee Zellweger, got an Oscar nod as Ruby Thewes, plays Ada's housemate and an early feminist -- one formed out of necessity, not white middle-class female boredom. She is as practical and knowledgeable as Ada is doe-eyed and at a loss, and it is a relief to watch a strong female character come in and take charge, just when Ada's uselessness has reached critical mass.
Yet, one cannot escape the fact that Ruby was supposed to be half-black. Certainly, Zellweger cannot forget this, and so she plays up the 'black southern woman' mannerisms, almost to the point of caricature. Make no mistake, she's good, possibly one of the better actors of the movie, but why was this role given to a white woman when the novel originally described the character as half African American?
Some of the secondary characters are precious, and unarmingly fun. Often, they save the movie from falling too far into the melodramatic. Phillip Seymour Hoffman as ex-preacher Veasey provides much needed comedic effect. Kathy Baker as Sally Swanger, Ada's kind-hearted neighbour, starts out rather unassumingly but shines as she deals with her own turmoil in the latter half of the movie.
A less appealing use of secondary characters was the casting director's nervous tick that caused them to feel the need to cast note-worthy second-string actors in small cameo roles. There are times when having a recognizable face can hurt a movie, and this was one of them. Inman's running through the woods and, whoops, he stumbles across Giovanni Ribisi! Later, he's trying to find shelter from the rain, and whose door does knock upon but Natalie Portman! He's not running through rural North Carolina, he's hitchiking down Sunset Boulevard!
The few shining points of 'Cold Mountain' is the way it showcases the Confederate war experience -- from the grittiness of the war itself (via a horrifying early-on depiction of the clash at Petersburg, VA) to treatment of deserters by the Home Guard, and the ransacking of the South by Union Army soldiers. Ada and Inman's romance takes a backseat to the reality of the Civil War, in all its various forms, and for this, my movie-going experience was worthwhile. Though I have not read the 'Cold Mountain' novel, I suspect that writer/director Anthony Minghella did a fairly good job at his screenplay adaptation (except for the 'cross-casting' of Ruby Thewes, and the lack of any discussion on slavery whatsoever).
'Cold Mountain' wasn't bad, and given the craptastic nature of many of the movies of 2003, it probably deserved (some of) its Oscar nominations. Don't get me wrong -- I did find the story engaging, and use of colour and costumes, for the most part, was pretty good. The Petersburg battle was by far the best scene of the film, but there's something that just doesn't sit quite right about the movie. Perhaps it is how Hollywood feels nothing, not even history, is sacred anymore.
Well if that's the case, then someone needs to own up to the fact that 'historical epic' in this case is an oxymoron.
Historical epics have traditionally had high success rates at the Oscars. There's something about Hollywood playing the role of educator that self-important producers find appealing, rewarding those filmmakers with Oscar nods. 'Cold Mountain' is no exception -- it is a pretentious pseudo-artsy epic with a 'Gone with the Wind' meets 'The Oddyssey' feel, all set in North Carolina during the Civil War.
Historical epics can be pretty good, and this film certainly falls into that genre ... if by 'historical' producers meant 'we made all this shit up'. Trying to focus a movie on the Confederate side of the Civil War means treading on thin ice in the first place -- but don't beat around the bush and try to divorce your characters from slavery! Many of the Confederates fought for different reasons, but let us not forget that one of these reasons was the right to keep slaves. In 'Cold Mountain', the characters may have been too poor to own slaves themselves, but then why do they fight? What drives them to sacrifice their lives if not slavery? This question must be addressed.
'Cold Mountain' follows the story of two star-crossed lovers, Inman (Jude Law) and Ada (Nicole Kidman) whose brief romance is critically interrupted by the start of the Civil War. Law goes off to fight on the Confederate side (and why, we do not know, other than because he is drafted by the Confederate army, but he shares no enthusiasm for the cause) while Ada and her father, the minister of Cold Mountain (Donald Sutherland), represent the 'homefront' of the war.
Unfortunately, the movie takes 'historicism' only to a point, and then does a sharp 180 towards easy escapism. Ada, even in her darkest days, remains immaculate and beautiful, to the point of unrealism. Late in the movie, she traverses the wilderness of Cold Mountain (the mountain) in a beautiful black trenchcoat and hat, that would look more in place on the streets of 20th century Manhattan than mid-1800 rural North Carolina. Even something so tiny as a cadre of eight runaway slaves being 'run over' by three men on horses, all killed without any of the horses breaking stride, adds to the implausibility of the movie. Moreover, at one point, Ada brings a tray of cider to the 'negroes' (yes, apparently even historicism cannot bring the producers to use the n-word). This begs two questions: why would Kidman's character use the word 'negro', when it was practically unused at the time? More importantly, why would she be bringing drinks to the slaves? Remember, at this time, slaves were not considered fully human.
Jude Law as Inman is attractive, but hardly your usual Confederate. He is quiet, unassuming, and holds none of the basic perceptions of your usual southern soldier. He disdains slavery, or at least believes slaves to have lives not worth killing (which is highly unlikely in the south at the time), does not seem to hate Lincoln, and in fact seems to have no real opinions of his own
other than to be a walking, aesthetically-pleasing, puppet heading back to his love, Ada. In this way, he is defined as little more than his journey -- he is not a man on a mission, but a mission encapsulated in a man.
Ada is your basic poor little rich girl southern belle; her story is typical. The harshness of reality forces her to do away with her soft, wealthy ways, even though she wasn't happy in the first place. It's an old role which we have seen before, and Kidman does nothing unusual with it, save allow a few of her golden brown Australian locks to fall out of place from time to time as
she angsts over her lot in life. Renee Zellweger, got an Oscar nod as Ruby Thewes, plays Ada's housemate and an early feminist -- one formed out of necessity, not white middle-class female boredom. She is as practical and knowledgeable as Ada is doe-eyed and at a loss, and it is a relief to watch a strong female character come in and take charge, just when Ada's uselessness has reached critical mass.
Yet, one cannot escape the fact that Ruby was supposed to be half-black. Certainly, Zellweger cannot forget this, and so she plays up the 'black southern woman' mannerisms, almost to the point of caricature. Make no mistake, she's good, possibly one of the better actors of the movie, but why was this role given to a white woman when the novel originally described the character as half African American?
Some of the secondary characters are precious, and unarmingly fun. Often, they save the movie from falling too far into the melodramatic. Phillip Seymour Hoffman as ex-preacher Veasey provides much needed comedic effect. Kathy Baker as Sally Swanger, Ada's kind-hearted neighbour, starts out rather unassumingly but shines as she deals with her own turmoil in the latter half of the movie.
A less appealing use of secondary characters was the casting director's nervous tick that caused them to feel the need to cast note-worthy second-string actors in small cameo roles. There are times when having a recognizable face can hurt a movie, and this was one of them. Inman's running through the woods and, whoops, he stumbles across Giovanni Ribisi! Later, he's trying to find shelter from the rain, and whose door does knock upon but Natalie Portman! He's not running through rural North Carolina, he's hitchiking down Sunset Boulevard!
The few shining points of 'Cold Mountain' is the way it showcases the Confederate war experience -- from the grittiness of the war itself (via a horrifying early-on depiction of the clash at Petersburg, VA) to treatment of deserters by the Home Guard, and the ransacking of the South by Union Army soldiers. Ada and Inman's romance takes a backseat to the reality of the Civil War, in all its various forms, and for this, my movie-going experience was worthwhile. Though I have not read the 'Cold Mountain' novel, I suspect that writer/director Anthony Minghella did a fairly good job at his screenplay adaptation (except for the 'cross-casting' of Ruby Thewes, and the lack of any discussion on slavery whatsoever).
'Cold Mountain' wasn't bad, and given the craptastic nature of many of the movies of 2003, it probably deserved (some of) its Oscar nominations. Don't get me wrong -- I did find the story engaging, and use of colour and costumes, for the most part, was pretty good. The Petersburg battle was by far the best scene of the film, but there's something that just doesn't sit quite right about the movie. Perhaps it is how Hollywood feels nothing, not even history, is sacred anymore.
Well if that's the case, then someone needs to own up to the fact that 'historical epic' in this case is an oxymoron.