Sunday, June 8, 2008

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World

"Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World" (2003)
Directed by Peter Weir


"Master and Commander," which I first watched in the theaters over five years ago, is the movie that really got me interested in film. Perhaps it was the joy of seeing the ocean spread across the huge screen's canvas. Perhaps it was the perfect union of sound and image. Perhaps it was because I had a secret crush on the young Max Pirkis, who plays one of the midshipmen. Whatever it was, this remains, to this day, one of my favorite films and it was wonderful seeing it again this weekend.

From the Books to the Film
I recently finished the 7th book in the Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin series, on which the film is based. In the books, there is usually a larger mission that takes a backseat to the everyday episodes that occur onboard whatever ship the rising British Post-Captain, “Lucky” Jack Aubrey, commands. Thus, the books can seem, for a while at least, nearly plotless, with descriptions of various episodes whose intensity and level-of-interest to the reader seem to undulate like the ocean Aubrey traverses.



The film follows in much the same manner. Aubrey's mission is to use his ship, the HMS Surprise, to destroy the larger French frigate, the Acheron. Weir does a fantastic job of depicting the creepy and almost ghostly nature of this ship, which often appears spontaneously. This scenario frequently occurs in O'Brian's books, especially in Desolation Island (1978) where the Dutch ship-of-the-line, the Waakzaamheid, appears out of nowhere and chases Aubrey's ship. Unfortunately, the books' episodic quality does not translate as well to the film. A book can be read in parts while a film, which is usually seen in one viewing, needs to have a more fluid quality. "Master and Commander," especially in a sequence that centers almost exclusively on one of the officers being bullied by his shipmates, generally lacks this connectedness between various scenarios. But for the most part, the film succeeds as an overall reflection, rather than direct literary interpretation, of the books on a stylistic and narrative level.

Immersion Through Sound and Image
Weir strives to immerse his viewers into these characters' environs by utilizing, to an unusually meticulous extent, images and sounds. Russel Boyd's cinematography has outstanding lighting that ranges from being very cool (on the deck) to very warm (interior candlelit cabins), beautiful and interesting compositions that provide different perspectives on these sailors' lives, and camera movements that flow with a natural, effortless quality. The cinematography makes it feel like we are watching a theater production, thanks to the stately nature of the photography and Weir's attention to detail with the costume design and sets, yet it also makes us feel like we are there with the characters.

Interesting composition, through the use of a dutch angle:


Warm lighting:


Cool lighting:


But it is Richard King's ("Twister," "Gattaca," "War of the Worlds") meticulous sound design that truly immerses us in the film's atmosphere. This is easily the best-sounding movie I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. The music's fidelity is impeccable and the surround sound is truly immersive – we can hear the creaking of the ship, the crashing of the waves against the hull, and even footsteps running “above” deck at all times. The movie truly shines during the battle scenes, where King, no doubt, had to work with hundreds of channels of sound. These scenes are loud, but they are also intelligently laid out and very detailed; he tends to craft split-second moments of near-silence - as opposed to the typical, now-expected ten seconds of quiet followed by an assault on the senses, which is a common occurrence in "Spiderman 3" - followed by visceral, terrifying-sounding enemy broadsides.

The Battles
I am baffled by those who claim that "Master and Commander" needs more action. Life at sea was boring and crew-members rarely witnessed an action, so it would make sense that the film has only two major engagements. The film immediately throws the viewer into the lives of these sailors, first with a brief tour of the area below deck, then with officers who casually throw around naval jargon, and then with a literal bang when the Acheron ambushes the Surprise in a fogbank. The scene is brilliantly constructed. There is a brief silence on the deck while we see the flashes of canon fire in the fogbank, then hear the ominous rumbling of those guns, followed by the sound and sight of the shrapnel itself ripping through the ship.



The beginning and ending battle sequences are quickly edited and feel claustrophobic; Weir wants us to feel the conditions that these men had to fight in. He doesn't flinch away from the brutality of the engagements, quickly cutting from one area of fighting to another and depicting how wood splinters, jettisoned from the ship itself by high-velocity shrapnel, actually caused the most casualties. Thus, these engagements are two-fold in nature – men can die somewhat indirectly from shrapnel that is fired from half a mile away or in close, very personal, hand-to-hand combat.




"Master and Commander" also succeeds at depicting the aftermath of these engagements and how they scar the ship and its sailors. Immediately after the first engagement, there is a breathtaking shot of the ship, lines and sails all ripped to shreds, appearing from the fogbank and floating helplessly in the water. There are a number of heartbreaking scenes that depict the cost of war on the men – a young midshipman named Lord Blakeney has to have an amputation, which is astoundingly powerful considering all we see is his face contorting in pain and the sound of his whimpering; Blakeney helps to bury his friend after an engagement, and while there is swelling music, King mixes it at a refreshingly quiet, understated level; and finally, the captain reads off the names of those who have died in combat and has to refrain from tearing up in public.

The Doctor and the Captain
The books, and the film itself, center around the relationship between Captain Aubrey, who is played by Russel Crowe, and the physician Stephen Maturin, who is played by Paul Bettany. These two men are on every adventure together and are best friends, even though they disagree from time to time. Aubrey is portrayed as a dignified and extremely talented sailor with a natural talent for leading others. Crowe's performance is good, but I wish that that he had more of the spontaneous levity that Aubrey seems to possess in the books; his Aubrey can feel too scripted on occasion.

Maturin is a skilled physician, which earns him a lot of respect amongst the crew, who usually have to deal with shoddy “medical” care. He is also naturalist – “a fighting naturalist!” as Blakeney calls him – who feels at home exploring land and collecting samples of the strange wildlife he encounters. In the books, Maturin also serves as a spy for England, which is always a blast to read, but the movie sadly drops this aspect of his character. Nonetheless, this character is a fascinating counterpoint to Aubrey, who can barely function on land and feels most at home on the ocean.

Despite their differences, the two characters share one passion – appreciating and playing music. Several times throughout the film, Aubrey and Maturin play music together in the Great Cabin. It is a break from the hard life of sailing (“a damned unfortunate business,” as Aubrey calls it), but it is also a way for them to appreciate the great things that people can create, rather than destroy. Their music is an overarching motif in the film, tying together some of the more disparate parts and giving the film a leisurely flow; it also reflects these characters' unstated hopes that there is perhaps something bigger and better beyond the claustrophobic and terrible confines of a ship.

The Storm


This sequence is an intense amalgamation of many threads in the film. Aubrey's obsession with capturing the Acheron; the midshipman Hollom's failures and the crew's hatred of him flowering; and the crew's elation at having finally gained the upper hand on their rival. Unfortunately, their elatedness deflates when one of the popular members of the crews falls overboard. I credit Weir, Boyd, and King with doing an outstanding job staging the scene in a convincing and terrifying manner. Also, the special effects, which mostly rely on compositing various effects (shots of choppy water in a storm, then models of the ships, then rain and lighting, etc.), have a surprisingly tactile and almost-realistic quality to them.

The Ship's Hierarchy
The film presents a number of interesting characters - the brave midshipmen Lord Blakeney (Max Pirkis) and Calamy (Max Benitz), the loyal first lieutenant Tom Pullings (James D'Arcy), the second lieutenant William Moffit (Edward Woodall), the weak and bullied midshipman Hollom (Lee Ingleby), and the hilarious, mumbling captain's servant, Killick (David Threlfall). All of these men, guided by a system of clear naval tradition and hierarchy that has endured for centuries, rely on the leadership of their captain in order to successfully gel together, which Aubrey, who is nicknamed “Lucky” because of his seeming inability to lose, happily provides. There is one scene in particular (shown below), in which Aubrey provides his men with encouraging words before the film's final battle, that effectively, through a series of simple reaction shots, illustrates the men's respect and devotion to their captain.





One interesting aspect of the film, which may stem from a flaw from the books, is its inability to make this conflict with the french frigate feel like it is of any larger importance than this one-on-one engagement. One line, said by Aubrey, feels a bit out of place: “Though we may be on the far side of the world, this ship is our home... this ship is England.” Weir spends most of the film exploring how these men sacrifice themselves out of necessity, not for their country. He, like O'Brian, seems most intent on exploring human behavior under the most grueling circumstances. Thus, the Surprise, like one of Stephen's petri dishes, really serves as a microcosm of human interaction, rather than as an asset of the British Navy.

Rating: 9

Fifth Viewing: 6/7/08
IMDB Page

A Note About the Blu-ray
The new Blu-ray of the film is okay. It now comes with a lossless (DTS-HD MA) audio track, if your receiver can decode it, but its DTS track can still be played at a lower 1.5 mbps with a normal setup with an optical audio cord, which sounds noticeably better than the 768 kbps DTS track on the DVD. The image looks quite good, very filmlike. There is much more detail in the blacks, the colors – fleshtones in particular – look outstanding, and there is a sense of depth that was lacking on the DVD. But I think that the transfer could be even better. The quality varies from shot-to-shot as a number of shots barely improve the DVD and there are some film artifacts (specks) that crop up on occasion. I think it's a nice upgrade from the DVD, but without much in the way of extras, nor a transfer that is “perfect,” the $30 price tag seems steep.

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