Boorman’s war was a wonder a thrilling mythical embodiment of the common good opposing evil
Posted in General on 08. Oct, 2010
Boorman’s war was a wonder, a thrilling, mythical embodiment of the common good opposing evil. He has always been fascinated by fantastical heroes, and it is this trait more than any other that gave him American appeal. His attendance at Catholic school and subsequent fascination with all things Irish has, by his own admission, had an insidious influence on his life and work, provoking him to a righteous indignation that has often translated into filmic images both poetic and violent. The gentility of his upbringing was mitigated by elements of anarchy and irony – he was aware of his mother’s lifelong devotion to his father’s best friend – but the real puzzle is why so many of his films are only partially successful.There were resounding hits: the menacingly enigmatic Point Blank, Lee Marvin’s career peak, and Deliverance, the heart-of-darkness trip into the shattered American dream.
These were both by screenwriters of renown, but other projects foundered more badly than Boorman is quite prepared to admit. The risible, ill-conceived SF epic Zardoz became memorable more for the sight of Sean Connery in Zapata-moustache, suede thigh-boots and nappy than for its roots in Catholic parable, and was followed by Exorcist 2: The Heretic, a metaphysical thriller which proves once and for all that films about goodness have no dramatic tension. Excalibur, a kind of new- age Arthurian panto wrecked by a chromium-pated scenery-chomping Nicol Williamson, was virtually laughed out of the cinema when I saw it, but Boorman’s lack of embarrassment is refreshing, and he’s happy to tell anecdotes against himself – and Hollywood.Adventures is filled with tasty brief asides: Mae West won hearts by saying “Loved your movie” to everyone she met; conflicts emerged on the Deliverance shoot that mirrored the story’s characters; a Tolkien-approved version of The Lord of the Rings had been planned casting children as Hobbits; and the sexual insecurities of actors are casually (if not ruthlessly) exposed. This is the juice that every good film biography needs.The tale-telling is effortless, memorable, highly subjective and occasionally unreliable, but Boorman is the director, and attention must be paid. He’s a smart observer of California, with a keen outsider’s eye. Christopher Isherwood drew his attention to the graceful American habit of ameliorating any situation: “He had just visited a friend in hospital. The nurse said ‘I’m afraid your friend is not doing too well.’ Isherwood asked if he had had a relapse ‘It’s a little worse than that.
He passed away.’ “Boorman shares Isherwood’s maxim that the movies are a refracting glass slid between conscious and unconscious, and longs to make films about other realities born of magic and imagination. He can be accused of having pursued the metaphorical too blatently in his scripts, of being a tad unfashionable in his tree-hugging hippiedom, but his sense of visual grandiosity has rarely faltered, and he has always revealed an open heart. In this sense, Hope and Glory remains his most perfectly realised achievement, because it refracts a dark event through innocent, optimistic eyes to glorious effect. Boorman is the last of a select group granted the power to realise personal visions, not without flaws but with an immense depth of human decency, and for this reason alone, his biography is essential reading.. Joan London is an Australian writer with two collections of short stories (not published here) under her belt. If only she had taken more notice of T S Eliot’s tenet about returning to the beginning and knowing it for the first time, her debut novel might have been brilliant instead of just good.