勇敢的心英文影评.doc

勇敢的心英文影评
The crown jewel of 1995's summer blockbusters appears to have arrived early. It's hard to imagine any motion picture released between now and August matching Mel Gibson's Brave Heart for spectacle. With its clashing armies, heart-stopping actions, and grand sense of romance, this is the sort of film which is a pleasure to see and review.
Let me state my preferences up front. I'm a big fan of the epic adventure, a category in which Brave Heart, like cream, rises to the top. There's a lot in this film that's praiseworthy -- not the least of which is its ambition. Those viewing this picture may be easily reminded of Gettysburg, The Last of the Mohicans, Glory, and such classics as Lawrence of Arabia, El Cid, and Spartacus. The grandeur is certainly present; nevertheless, Gibson gives us not only memorable battles, but characters of real substance.
Borrowing from masters like Sam Peckinpah and David Lean, the actor/director has crafted an exceptional cinematic tapestry in only his sophomore effort. Most of the time, three -hour movies have a few flat spots, but Brave Heart is constantly on the move -- riveting from start to finish. When the end credits began to roll, I was hard pressed to accept that nearly 170 minutes had elapsed.
The title character is William Wallace (Gibson), a hero of Scottish history whose legend has surely outstripped fact (in its own unique way, the film acknowledges this). Wallace fought for Scotland's freedom in the late 13th century, wielding his broadsword and influence to defeat the forces of King Edward I (Patrick McGeehan), the British monarch who had declared himself king of Scotland upon the former ruler's demise.
Brave Heart builds slowly to its first gritty climax. Much of the early film concentrates on Wallace's love for Murron (Catherine McCormack). Their courtship is unhurried, yet this is all preparation. The real meat of the story, which includes political machinations, betrayal, and dramatic battles, is yet to come. Patrick Henry once said, "Give me liberty, or give me death!" That might well be Wallace's motto. "It's all for nothing if you don't have freedom!" The nobles of Scotland fight for land and riches, but Wallace stands for the individual, and earns respect with words and deeds.
Bulked up and wearing a long-haired wig, Gibson brings his usual wealth of charisma to the title role. Patrick McGeehan, best known from TV's Secret Agent Man and The Prisoner, is almost unrecognizable beneath a snowy beard. His Edward the Longshanks exudes an aura of cold menace. He's a worthy foe for Wallace because his intelligence matches his ruthlessness. Sophie Marceau, the French actress who plays Princess Isabelle, and Catherine McCormack are both immensely appealing.
Brave Heart is a brutal, bloody motion picture, but the violence is not gratuitous. The mailings, decapitations, and other assorted gruesome details make Wallace's world seem real and immediate. In addition, few theatrical moments make a more eloquent statement against war than when Gibson shows women and children weeping over the dead on a body-littered battlefield. War is a two-headed beast, and both faces -- the glorious and the tragic -- are depicted.
Lately, certain films have come in pairs: two Robin Hoods, two Columbuses, two Earps, and now two Highlander epics. Rob Roy, the first, is a fine motion picture. Brave Heart, however, is better, offering an exhilarating, and occasionally touching, experience that has viewers leaving the theater caught up in an afterglow of wonder. These days, heroes like William Wallace are as rare as motion picture displays of this high, uncompromising quality.
Wallace's dying cry, as his body was stretched on the rack, was "freedom!" That isn't exactly based on fact (the concept of personal freedom was a concept not much celebrated in 1300), but it doesn't stop Gibson from making it his dying cry. It fits in with the whole glorious sweep of "Braveheart," which is an action epic with the spirit of the Hollywood swordplay classics and the grungy ferocity of "The Road Warrior." What people are going to remember from the film are the battle scenes, which are frequent, bloody and violent. Just from a technical point of view, "Braveheart" does a brilliant job of massing men and horses for large-scale warfare on film. Gibson deploys what look like thousands of men on horseback, as well as foot soldiers, archers and dirty tricks specialists, and yet his battle sequences don't turn into confusing crowd scenes: We understand the strategy, and we enjoy the tactics even while we're doubting some of them (did 14th century Scots really set battlefields aflame?).
Gibson is not filming history here, but myth. William Wallace may have been a real person, but "Braveheart" owes more to Prince Valiant, Rob Roy and Mad Max. Once we understand that this is not a solemn historical reconstruction (and that happens pretty fast), we accept dialogue that might otherwise have an uncannily modern tone, as when Braveheart issues his victory ultimatum to the English: "Scotland's terms are that your commander present himself in front of our army, put his head between his legs and kiss his - - -." Uh, huh.
These characters come from hardened stock. (When Wallace has a reunion with his childhood pal Hamish, they hurl rocks at each other for entertainment; later, when a Scotsman has his wound cauterized, all he says is, "That'll wake you up in the morning, boy!") It is sometimes seen as an egotistical gesture when actors direct themselves, especially in heroic epics costing (so they say) $53 million. The truth is, given this material, I do not know that anyone could have directed it better. Gibson marshals his armies of extras, his stunt men and his special effects, and creates a fictional world that is entertaining, and thrilling.
And as Braveheart, Gibson plays his role with flamboyance, and cuts it with sly humor. He is an amazing battlefield strategist, inventing new strategies and weapons, outsmarting the English at every turn, leading his men into battle with his face painted blue, like a football fan. There is a scene where he is so pumped up with the scent of battle that his nostrils flare; not many actors could get away with that, but Gibson can.