Im becoming a bit annoyed at the simplistic and purblind level of discourse around Clint Eastwoods film AMERICAN SNIPER. I find that writers believe that everything is about words and are unable to properly read a film. Therefore they want to compare the film to a book and to articles and drive the conversation into politics, a limited sphere of thought which is nowhere near the heart of this brilliantly crafted film. My first reaction was that it was hard to believe that a man in his 80s could have created this arduous film – arduous to see and no doubt arduous to make. My next thought was that it was nothing like the standard Clint Eastwood style, as exemplified in films like Mystic River, The Changeling, Flags of Our Fathers and many more. Eastwoods films are usually actor-centric, slow, contemplative. As much as I like his work I often think they are indulgent. American Sniper is no such of a thing. Driving, relentless, yet always eminently crystal clear. I had not checked any sources before I went to the theater, but when the film was done I said, “That film should be nominated for editing, screenplay and for sound.” I felt vindicated to find out that was true (three sound nominations, actually). Although it is a typical length for an Eastwood film, 132 minutes, it feels a half-hour shorter than that and there are no longeurs whatsoever. Moreover, the shot selection, arrangement, duration are a master class in film syntax. And there are stunning paradoxical aesthetic choices. (There is one rather flashy surprise cut near the beginning of the film which will probably be in all the film textbooks in a few years.) A more representative example is when the protagonist has finally done away with his most pertinacious adversary, in the course of what develops into a blinding sandstorm, we see the body spread out, obscured by blowing sand, the camera pulling away a bit, and we are expecting a slow triumphalist fade to black – chapter done. Instead, Eastwood and his editors make a startling flat cut to our hero, spiritually paralyzed on a barstool in an ugly cheap-looking neighborhood bar. A few minutes later, we are finally given our fade to black when he leaves his home,wife and children to help a struggling vet and we learn why the filmmakers were saving that long slow fade until now. I urge you to see the film in the theaters – dont wait for video. And make sure they have a good multi-speaker sound system, because the sense of total immersion in these insane battle scenes is, to a great extent, the work of the superb sound team. But most of all, this movie shows Eastwood quietly demonstrating everything he has learned in 45 years as a director (not to mention what he learned from all the directors he observed as an actor) executing it with a quiet simple mastery. It has a clarity of expression, complexity of meaning and stylistic reticence that stamps Eastwood as our greatest living classicist in film, and a worthy successor to John Ford, the poet of lost wars.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Jan 2015 21:08:34 +0000
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