Showing posts with label Max von Sydow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Max von Sydow. Show all posts

Monday, May 22, 2017

Looking for Light at the End of the Tunnel



"'The Diving Bell and the Butterfly' is a film about a man who experiences the catastrophe I most feared during my recent surgeries: 'locked–in syndrome,' where he is alive and conscious but unable to communicate with the world. My dread, I think, began when I was a boy first reading Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Premature Burial' at an age much too young to contemplate such a possibility."

Roger Ebert

When I was 13 years old, I broke my right arm and had to wear a cast for eight weeks.

I'm right–handed, which means I had to function without the use of my dominant arm for two months. It was during the school year, and it was extremely challenging for me to try to write with my left hand.

I adapted the best I could, and my teachers were understanding. And, after eight weeks, I was permitted to use my arm again.

At least once in our lives, I suppose, everyone is faced with the deprivation of something that one has come to take for granted. Usually that deprivation is limited in some way — and temporary.

And that is the key point, isn't it? It is temporary. I didn't like wearing a cast or having to try to do things with my left hand for eight weeks — but I knew it wouldn't last forever. I knew there was light at the end of the tunnel. I could see it. With both eyes.

And that was the point. There was light at the end of that tunnel.

It's been a long time since I broke that arm, but I have thought about it frequently over the years, often in the context of incarceration. When I worked as a newspaper reporter, I covered the police and courthouse beat for awhile, which meant I had to cover trials from time to time. Those trials involved offenses that, if the defendants were found guilty, would mean time in prison.

I'm not sure when I started thinking about my broken arm in the context of incarceration, but I kind of feel like it must have been when I was covering trials. It has continued to this day.

Some of the offenses carried lengthy — but limited — sentences; people convicted of such offenses knew they would spend several years in prison, but their incarceration would end someday.

But most of the trials I covered were murder trials — and, while there were exceptions, most of the defendants knew that, if convicted, they could expect to spend the rest of their lives in prison. There would be no light at the end of that tunnel.

Jean–Dominique Bauby, editor of Elle magazine, was not convicted of a crime, but he faced a kind of life in prison when he suffered a massive stroke in December 1995 that left him with a condition known as "locked–in syndrome" a condition in which the patient is almost entirely paralyzed but is, nevertheless, aware of what is happening around him/her and able to communicate only through eye movement and blinking. In more extreme situations, the eyes are paralyzed as well.

In this condition, Bauby dictated his memoir through a tedious eye–blinking procedure in which his assistant would repeatedly recite the alphabet until he blinked to indicate which letters came next. It took an average of two minutes to dictate each word.

The memoir was turned into a movie that made its debut 10 years ago today at the Cannes Film Festival. The book and the movie were titled "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly." Director Julian Schnabel was rewarded with Best Director at the Cannes festival.

Schnabel, by the way, was nominated for Best Director at the Academy Awards but lost to the Coen Brothers, and the movie was nominated for three other Oscars as well.

"Like a sailor seeing the shore disappear, I watch my past recede, reduced to the ashes of memory."

Jean–Dominique Bauby (Mathieu Amalric)

To a casual observer, Bauby appeared to have a wonderful life. He was editor of a popular magazine. He had a beautiful ex–mistress (Emmanuelle Seigner), with whom he had three children, and a beautiful new mistress. But then he had his stroke.

Most of the muscles in his body were useless after that, but his mind remained clear, and his imagination was strong. I'm a writer, and I can say that many things could be taken from me and I could manage somehow, but if I no longer had a clear mind and a strong imagination, I would not want to keep going.

Bauby had both of those things, but he still didn't want to keep going — at first. The writer within him knew there was a story that needed to be told.

That story was rich with ironies.

A few days before his stroke "Jean–Do," as he was known, was visiting his frail 92–year–old father (Max von Sydow) and gave him a shave because he could not shave himself.

After Jean–Do's stroke, his father observed in a phone call to his son (with his assistant interpreting his eye movements for his end of the conversation), that they were both locked in — he was physically unable to leave his apartment and his son was locked inside his body.

That was his perception. He wanted to be with his son but he couldn't. Others couldn't bring themselves to face the new reality. Their perceptions frightened them too much.

We all face barriers in our lives. Jean–Do's father faced a physical barrier. The others faced an emotional barrier.

That is certainly something I have experienced first hand. Most of the time I have not known I was seeing someone for the last time, but there have been a few times in my life when I have seen someone and I knew — usually because of a medical condition — it would be the last time, but I could never bring myself to say the word goodbye.

Perhaps it seemed too much like giving up. I regret that, but I don't regret feeling afraid. It is a natural, honest and normal human response. It is all a matter of perception, I suppose.

All my life I have heard that perception is reality and that may never have been more true than it was when applied to the life of Jean–Dominique Bauby.

The stroke was the reality, but it was the perception that colored the picture for Bauby and those around him. He saw his affliction as being like one of those heavy diving bells that divers once wore to get a constant supply of oxygen when they were in the water. Bauby felt the diving bell was dragging him to the bottom of the sea.

But many of those around him did not see a diving bell. Instead they saw his spirit as a butterfly that was rising above it all.

Thus the name of the book — and the movie.

And as grim as the topic may sound, it really is a rewarding movie experience.

I want to read the book.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Who Ya Gonna Trust?



Kathy (Faye Dunaway): Do you trust him?

Turner (Robert Redford): [shaking his head] Trust.

Kathy: Does he trust you?

Turner: He's in the suspicion business. He can't trust anybody.

Kathy: How could anybody fool them?

Turner: Maybe nobody did.

Kathy: Then ...

Turner: Maybe there's another CIA ... inside the CIA.

As Roger Ebert wrote about "Three Days of the Condor," which premiered on this day 40 years ago, the story was "all too believable" in the aftermath of Watergate.

That was kind of an ironic observation, given that, within a year, Redford would co–star with Dustin Hoffman in a movie about the early days of the Watergate investigation. (A friendly warning: If you haven't seen "Three Days of the Condor" before, the images of the World Trade Center that keep popping up can be a little unsettling even though they were really only props in the movie, and it was made about 26 years before the terrorist attacks brought them down.)

His co–stars in "Three Days of the Condor" were Faye Dunaway, Cliff Robertson and Max von Sydow. The director was Sydney Pollack.

"How soon we grow used to the most depressing possibilities about our government," Ebert wrote, "and how soon, too, we commercialize on them. Hollywood stars used to play cowboys and generals. Now they're wiretappers and assassins, or targets."

Considering the times we live in, that makes me wonder what we'll be seeing on our movie screens in the not–so–distant future.

In this movie, Redford played a target, a seemingly naive character who worked as a reader for the American Literary Historical Society, which was actually a front for the CIA. And Redford was a CIA analyst (code name: Condor) who read books and periodicals from around the world looking for concealed meanings. In the early part of the movie, he filed a report on a spy thriller he had been reading, commenting on unusual plot twists and the number of languages into which it had been translated in spite of the fact that it wasn't commercially successful.

Then, one day, when Redford was out getting sandwiches for the office, someone came in and shot up the place. When he returned, he found everyone dead.

From that point on, you really had to follow the story carefully because, in true spy thriller fashion, people got shot on a frequent basis. Characters you thought you knew. Characters you didn't know at all.

Faye Dunaway entered the story as kind of an innocent bystander. Redford spotted her in a store and, needing a place to hide, forced her to take him to her apartment, where he held her prisoner while trying to decide on his next move. As time went by, they became lovers.

Max von Sydow played a shadowy contract killer who had been behind the shootings in Redford's office. He turned his attention to Redford, the one who got away.

Cliff Robertson played Redford's section chief, but Redford had never met him and, knowing the environment in which they both worked, didn't exactly trust him.

Perhaps now you can see why Ebert said the movie was believable. And I believed the story, too — except for the part about Redford and Dunaway becoming lovers after he had abducted her at gunpoint. Let me clarify that. I didn't believe it at the time I saw it; since that time, I have heard of a number of incidents in which an abductee did fall in love with the abductor. Seems to me that is called the Stockholm syndrome — when a hostage bonds with the abductor. Anyway, it has more credibility with me now.

And I suppose that must have been what the movie was portraying in the side story about Redford and Dunaway.

Hey, it had to be. Dunaway took a shower and, when she came out of the bathroom, witnessed Redford shooting a guy who had been sent by his superiors to kill Redford. And she stayed with him.

You really had to pay attention to the story, or you would miss something important. For some people, that is simply too much work. For them, movies are for escapism, something that should wash over you while you devote little effort to the experience. Spy thrillers (well, the really good ones, anyway) aren't that way in print, and they aren't that way in the movies.

"Three Days of the Condor" seemed like the kind of movie Oscar usually rewards, but it only received one nomination — for Film Editing — and lost to "Jaws."

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Casting Out a Demon



Chris (Ellen Burstyn): She doesn't remember any of it.

It wasn't long after "The Exorcist" was released to theaters, 40 years ago today, that the news reports were full of stories about people losing their minds while watching it. Well, that's probably an exaggeration. I do remember hearing a lot of reports of moviegoers who fainted or vomited while watching it (some theaters made "Exorcist barf bags" available for squeamish patrons).

I was a child at the time and really didn't understand what was being said. I just knew the story was about a young girl who was possessed by a demon, and her mother sought the help of an exorcist to free her of the demon's grip.

The young girl was Linda Blair, who went on to encourage many a young boy's fantasies in the '70s. "The Exorcist" was the first real glimpse most people had of her. She had a couple of minor roles in some low–profile movies before that; her projects in the next few years could hardly be described as "low profile" — simply because she was in them.

But her movie career — which more or less ground to a halt after she ran into problems with the law in the late 1970s — is the subject for another article at another time.

On this day in 1973, Blair was about to turn 15 — and she was about to become a national sensation.

The role she played was inspired by the last recorded Catholic–sanctioned exorcism in the United States. In that 1949 case, a 13–year–old boy was the victim. Novelist William Peter Blatty altered the victim's gender and the age for the novel that spawned the 1973 movie.

I didn't see it until several years later. The movie was re–released to the theaters (why, I do not know) a few years after its initial release. I wanted to see it, but I was too young to get in without an adult so I talked my father into taking me to see it.

By that time, things like the scenes in which Blair's character vomited pea soup on the priests or spoke in a series of low–pitched voices were practically cliches. I remember being distracted from the story on the screen several times by the persistent giggles of a group of young people in the back of the theater.

No one was giggling in 1973.

The Oscars didn't reward makeup work until the 1980s; I suppose makeup was considered part of costumes until that time, but "The Exorcist," which was nominated for 10 Oscars, did not receive a nomination for its costumes — or any other category that would have taken into consideration the really impressive achievement of transforming a seemingly ordinary young girl into a victim of demonic possession.

Director William Friedkin (a recent Best Director winner for "The French Connection") broke a lot of ground in special effects (which, I suppose, included the makeup) and, simultaneously, pushed the project over budget. But it earned more than $440 million at the box office, which probably compensated for quite a bit.

In the movie, Regan's possession put mounting pressure on her actress mother (Ellen Burstyn), who first sought the help of doctors but gradually became convinced that her daughter's behavior was due to possession.

As with the case that inspired the story, a Ouija board was the conduit.

The British theater director for Regan's mother died after falling from a window in Regan's bedroom, and a detective (Lee J. Cobb) was called in to investigate.

For her part, Burstyn called in a young priest (Jason Miller), who evaluated the situation and decided that an exorcist (Max von Sydow) was needed.

And the two priests did battle with the demon.

I read Blatty's novel before I saw the movie. When I saw it, I was disappointed that most of the theological conversations between the demon and the young priest that were in the book did not make it into the movie. I understood then (as I understand now) that it simply isn't feasible for everything in a book to be included in a movie version. There will always be things that are omitted, for one reason or another.

But I found those conversations to be the most thought–provoking parts of the book. The demon, essentially, challenged the priest's faith by pointing out inconsistencies in scriptures and religious practices and beliefs; the priest deftly defended his faith in a fascinating display of linguistic dexterity.

Because of the subject matter, I guess it was really no surprise that there were numerous claims that the project was cursed. There were so many incidents while the movie was being made that priests were brought in frequently for the purpose of blessing the set.

Books and movies and music that deal with supernatural topics are often magnets for suspicion. Not surprisingly, I guess, "The Exorcist" was accused of many controversial things, the most controversial may have been the suggestion that it used subliminal effects in its sound and imagery. I recall hearing such allegations, but I don't recall the messages that supposedly were being transmitted.

Maybe it was fallout from the backward masking, both actual and alleged, in Beatles records a few years earlier.