“There are those who ask why this responsibility
should be ours. The answer, I think, is simple: There is no one else who can do
the job.”
Think that’s George W. Bush defending the decision
to invade Iraq? Think again. Those ultimately foreboding sentiments actually
come courtesy of Lyndon Johnson as he justifies American involvement in
Vietnam, and it’s just some of the alternately head-scratching and mind-blowing
footage found in Hearts and Minds, the landmark Oscar-winning documentary
enjoying its 30th anniversary re-release after a two-year restoration.ย
The access afforded to director Peter Davis is
shocking even in this era of CNN, when real-time images of war are disturbingly
commonplace. We hear from Vietnamese farmers as they point out where the bombs
struck their children, spend time with American GIs as they frolic with Saigon
prostitutes, and watch current and former soldiers both wrestle with and
rationalize their actions in country.
Famous still photos come to life, such as the Viet
Cong executed at point-blank range and the little girl running naked after a
napalm attack, and we get to see what happened after the shutter closed as
well. Men with names like Westmoreland, Dulles, and Kennedy opine from beyond
the grave, while ordinary Americans and Vietnamese — however ill-informed, however
enraged — are also allowed the opportunity to memorialize their thoughts for
the ages.
The war in Vietnam, it goes without saying, is one
of the darker marks on the permanent record of this usually great country, and
as a result is often discussed in the same hushed tones normally reserved for
talking about a crazy aunt, if it’s even discussed at all. Hearts and Minds leaves no doubt as to the filmmakers’ views on the
subject and caused quite a controversy the first time around. For example, at
the 1974 Academy Awards producer Bert Schneider (who also produced films like Easy Rider, The Last Picture Show, and Days
of Heaven, incidentally) read a telegram from the Viet Cong delegation to
the Paris peace talks as part of his acceptance speech. The act reportedly
caused John Wayne to blow a gasket and Frank Sinatra to issue an on-air
apology-disclaimer.
Sadly, my generation (Gen X, that is) and younger,
which went in droves to see Fahrenheit
911, probably won’t take the time to catch this still-relevant film. But
they should.
John Waters is one of those filmmakers —
like Woody Allen — who seems to get cut greater slack thanks to their
once-daring oeuvre. There’s always a contingent of diehard fans that will
inevitably pony up for a John Waters movie, no matter how lame the buzz, thus
allowing him to get another film bankrolled and the cycle to continue.
I am not a John Waters fan. I actually saw three of
his films this summer with the openest of minds and tried to understand why my
intelligent (and attractive!) movie-loving friends dig him so much. Were these
flicks clever? Occasionally. Were they audacious? Sometimes. Were they sweet?
Usually. Were they boring? God, yes. And John Waters’ latest film, A
Dirty Shame, is no exception.
Tracey Ullman stars as Sylvia Stickles, a Baltimore
convenience store proprietor who is completely uninterested in sex, despite
being married to the dreamy Chris Isaak. Sylvia’s mother, Big Ethel (Suzanne
Shepherd), applauds her daughter’s frigidity, while Sylvia’s daughter (Selma
Blair), a surgically enhanced stripper called Ursula Udders, is under house
arrest for indecency.
Sylvia receives a concussion during a traffic mishap
that turns her into a raging sex addict — a surprisingly common affliction
according to Ray Ray (Johnny Knoxville), an auto-mechanic-sexual-healer whose
disciples have fetishes that run the gamut from sploshing to frottage. There’s
also an adult baby, a guy who’s turned on by dirt, and a family of “bears.”
(Sylvia is diagnosed as a “cunnilingus bottom,” which I didn’t realize was a
fetish.) And like every other John Waters film, the conflict arrives via a
group of prudes (“neuters,” as they’re called here) who are trying to put the
kibosh on the freedoms harmlessly enjoyed by others. Oh, you’re pro-tolerance,
John Waters? That’s so controversial!
Waters has the uncanny, frustrating knack for taking
a perfectly capable actor like Tracey Ullman and turning her into the hammiest
ham to ever ham it up. Only Johnny Knoxville escapes unscathed here, and that’s
just because I love him and he’s never been that good anyway. Admittedly, there
were a few funny parts, such as the Hokey Pokey scene at the nursing home that
climaxed with Sylvia lifting a bottle of water without using her hands.
But as one friend observed, the humor throughout
could have also been achieved by giving a pack of 12-year-old boys two movie
cameras and one joke. I agreed but felt as if those boys had used all three
items to beat me over the head for an hour and a half instead of making a
movie.
A Dirty Shame (NC-17) and Hearts and Minds (R) are both playing at
Little Theatre.
This article appears in Dec 1-7, 2004.
