By David Elliott
APPETIZER (reviews of Dark Horse and Dheepan)
Fortunately, Dark Horse is not about John Kasich, Ben Carson or Martin O’Malley. You can get fractious politics off your mind by going to a vividly spirited horse movie, a documentary from director Louise Ormond. Radiating equine love, it’s like an improved surge of desperado Sterling Hayden’s fixation on Kentucky horses in The Asphalt Jungle, with Kentucky replaced by Wales. In grim but plucky Cefn Fforest, a coal town almost strip-mined of vitality, Janet Vokes had a crazy-fine idea.
Vokes
was a wife, bar maid and grocery employee who decided to become a race horse
owner, always the niche of royals and moneyed bluebloods (there’s a nip of
Welsh whimsy; Jan’s father “used to breed show budgies”). She formed a
syndicate with 30 other locals, each contributing ten pounds a week. They found
a humble mare, paid a 3,000 pound stud fee for a low-ranked stallion, and then
had the scrawny offspring trained, named Dream Alliance, and entered for races
(both flat and steeplechase runs). No bookie took the steed seriously, then he
gained fourth place in his first race, won his fourth race, had a fallow
period, then a crisis, then a comeback that made “Dream” the Ben Hogan of equestrian
courage.
If
you want film style, you’re on the wrong turf here. Reliant on re-stagings and TV
racing footage, the movie is most rich in beautiful horse images. Dream truly
stars, with his white blaze on a pale chestnut hide, and above his hooves
four white “stockings.” Around him are the thrilled owners and adoring fans,
some of whom show a deficit of dentistry, but none of spirit and loyalty. If
you miss some words, never mind. Every whinny and snort and pounding hoof is a
call to satisfaction, from a huggable horse.
Only
a French director – to be specific, Jacques Audiard – would make a tense
survival story drawn from living events, while also drawing inspiration from
the Baron de Montesquieu’s cross-cultural satire Persian Letters (1721) and, from exactly 250 years later, Sam
Peckinpah’s bloody film Straw Dogs
(1971). Trace those influences if you wish, but Dheepan succeeds on a direct level of empathy. Antonythasan
Jesuthasan (I assume the name reveals a Christian upbringing) plays Dheepan, a
war-sickene\d soldier from the Sri Lanka civil war that pitted the Hindu Tamil
minority against the Buddhist Ceylonese majority, one of many current
demonstrations that religion can be a toxic matrix for violence.
Abandoning
his role as a Tamil fighter (in effect a terrorist), the burly, pensive Dheepan
makes it to France, along with a widow who isn’t his wife and an orphaned girl.
Pretending to be a family, they find menial work as caretakers in a dreary banlieue, one of those degradations of
modern mass architecture and welfare bureaucracy that ring French cities. It’s
a Third World “refuge” largely controlled by North African drug gangs. Dheepan
burrows in as a cagey civilian, always wary, his military training held in
reserve if needed. Of course, it’s needed (here comes the Straw Dogs element). Audiard handles it with potent realism; forget
Liam Neeson or Jason Stathem.
Dheepan won the Palme D’Or last year at Cannes, which seems a touch too much (a kind of World Relevance Award might be more on target). This is a soberly moving film, a work of honorable attention, not just about the crisis of the refugee diaspora swamping Europe but about utterly specific people. Its stable keel and appeal are in the balanced, vulnerable performances of Jesuthasan and his “wife,” Kalieaswari Srinivasan. “Kali” and “Sri” indicate Hindu roots. The story, which eclipses religious branding, is universal but not abstract.
SALAD (A List)
The
Ten Best Horse Movies, at least on my
ranch: The Black Stallion (director
Carol Ballard, 1979), Stagecoach
(John Ford, 1939), Buck (Cindy Meehl,
2011), National Velvet (Clarence
Brown, 1944), Ride Lonesome (Budd
Boetticher, 1959), Ben-Hur (William
Wyler, 1959), The Wonderful Country
(Robert Parrish, 1959), The Red Pony
(Lewis Milestone, 1949), The Horsemen
(John Frankenheimer, 1971) and Dark Horse
(Louise Ormond, 2015).
WINE (Vin Orsonaire de Chateau Welles)
Citizen
Welles is a great creative hero, but John Baxter offers an interesting view of
his acting: “The character of this suave philosopher-criminal (Harry Lime, The Third
Man) fitted Welles like a Savile Row suit. In a 50-year acting career, he
never played a hero. Rather, his tastes ran to men as flawed as they were flamboyant
– the murderous Renaissance grandee Cesare Borgia in Prince of Foxes, obsessed
and suicidal Ahab in his stage Moby Dick,
a roistering but finally pathetic Sir John Falstaff in Chimes at Midnight, and of course Charles Foster Kane, so desperate
for love that he exhausts and alienates everyone who might provide it.” (From
Baxter’s intro to the 2010 reissue of Orson Welles’s noir novel Mr. Arkadin, or Confidential Report.)
ENTRÉE (Starlight Rising)
“In
The Producers, Kenneth Mars found his
classic role as Liebkind. For immigrant Franz, the goosestep years were goose
paté. On the roof with his pigeons (a short flight away from Terry Malloy’s
aviary in On the Waterfront), Franz
wears long Johns and a Wehrmacht helmet, to which Mars added bird drop stains.
He never grasps that his visitors are Jewish, and wishes ‘to clear the Fuhrer’s
name!’ Dustin Hoffman was set to do Liebkind, but left for Los Angeles and his
big bingo, The Graduate.” (From the
Zero Mostel/The Producers chapter of my book Starlight
Rising: Acting Up in Movies, available from Amazon, Kindle and Nook.)DESSERT (An Image)
A great movie image is more than a still, it’s a distillation.
Lillian
Gish in The Night of the Hunter
(United Artists, 1955; director Charles Laughton, cinematographer Stanley
Cortez)
For previous Flix Nosh meals, scroll
below.
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