Dances With Wolves belongs in the same sub-category of our DVD collection as The Da Vinci Code: acquisitions of uncertain provenance. We have it; we just don't know how or why that happened.
All the same, I was actually looking forward to this one. So, when we were watching Oscar winners, I suggested it as one of the entries. That suggestion was nixed by Ms. ReViewing Habit. After Last of the Mohicans inspired me to rant and rave about movies with Native American characters, I campaigned hard for it. Again, she was having none of it. Heedless, I plunged ahead on my lonesome.
I chose poorly.
I really, really wanted to like this movie. Sure, I remember seeing it years ago and thinking it was just okay. Time, however, has not been kind to Kevin Costner's Western epic - which has become synonymous with the Oscars' habit of over-awarding actors turned directors. That it beat out (arguably) Martin Scorcese's greatest film, GoodFellas, for Best Picture makes it even worse in the eyes of many film fans. But I was hopeful I would come out of the film with a contrarian take on why the Academy got it right. Sorry to disappoint.
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| The buffalo stampede is the only injection of life in an otherwise terminally boring film. |
Dances With Wolves commits the cardinal sin of being boring. Its story of a Civil War soldier (Costner) on the outer edges of the frontier, alone, by choice, confronted with the harsh realities of nature and the uncertainty of natives that regard him with suspicion, shouldn't be boring. But it feels endless and pointless.
The shame is that there is a deeper, weirder movie here struggling to bubble to surface. The opening sequence, where Costner's character survives a battle with his leg intact only because the surgeon needs a cup of coffee before sawing it off, told in fuzzy POV, sets an off-kilter tone. That is quickly followed by an odd setpiece with a Major (Maury Chaykin), soaked to his gills, referring to Costner's Lieutenant as "Sir Knight" and speaking of "quests" before offing himself which is (dare I say it?) Apocalypse Now-like in its threatening ambiguity. Then there's Mary McDonnell's alternately fascinating and cringe-inducing performance as Stands With A Fist, a refugee of the white world and a character of uncertain mental stability. A half hour in, I'm excited about what this movie might have to say about the senselessness of war, about man and nature, about our yen to be somewhere new and to hold on to somewhere old.
The shame is that there is a deeper, weirder movie here struggling to bubble to surface. The opening sequence, where Costner's character survives a battle with his leg intact only because the surgeon needs a cup of coffee before sawing it off, told in fuzzy POV, sets an off-kilter tone. That is quickly followed by an odd setpiece with a Major (Maury Chaykin), soaked to his gills, referring to Costner's Lieutenant as "Sir Knight" and speaking of "quests" before offing himself which is (dare I say it?) Apocalypse Now-like in its threatening ambiguity. Then there's Mary McDonnell's alternately fascinating and cringe-inducing performance as Stands With A Fist, a refugee of the white world and a character of uncertain mental stability. A half hour in, I'm excited about what this movie might have to say about the senselessness of war, about man and nature, about our yen to be somewhere new and to hold on to somewhere old.
But Costner's paint-by-numbers direction and strangely lifeless performance and narration quickly suck any ambiguity or nuance out of the proceedings. The movie is ultimately too old-fashioned, and the usually charismatic Costner too restrained, to be interesting or effective. Did I mention it was boring?
It's honestly the first of the films we gave up on before it was over. If I'm not hooked after 2 hours, what's the point of continuing? We have other DVDs to watch.
FINAL VERDICT: PITCH
NEXT UP: STARDUST
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