Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (Russell Crowe, Paul Bettany)
Two centuries ago, rival countries would dispatch groups of men to do battle on the high seas... thousands of miles from home. Think about it: England and France were at odds with each other but their ships were instructed to go toe-to-toe with the enemy off the coasts of South America. Not only did that mean the respective crews were completely isolated from aid or assistance, but the men aboard were left to settle their country's feuds in proximity to strange lands that held no meaning or importance to them. I was reminded of this sentiment of isolation a few times as I watched Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World and, while it is not the film's predominant theme, it was the one that resonated with me the strongest.
The movie stars Russell Crowe, who is fast becoming one of the best actors today, not only for his winsome everyman performances but for his pension for selecting decent projects. He plays Captain Jack Aubrey, a.k.a "Lucky Jack", a grizzled veteran seaman who has been ordered to hunt down a French ship called the Acheron and put her out of commission through any means necessary. The rest of the crew of the HMS Surprise includes an obliging doctor named Maturin (Paul Bettany), a young midshipman named Blakeney (Max Pirkis), a seemingly jinxed soul named Hollom (Lee Ingleby), and a right hand man anxious for a chance to command (James D'Arcy, as First Lieutenant Pullings).
In the film's first action setpiece, the HMS Surprise has been, well, surprised by the Acheron and must retreat to formulate a strategy. What follows is a game of cat-and-mouse between the two ships as they maneuver through thick fog, crashing mega-storms and dark evenings at sea, where even the smallest of lit lanterns can mean a cannonball right through your hull. Through a series of cartographic calculations, Aubrey ends up being the one chasing after the Acheron, but, as is the case with so many literary and historical ship captains, proves he may be a little too fixated on the hunt at the expense of his own crew. The trip takes the British group to the lush Galapagos Islands, where they are forced to take stock of their current situation before one last deadly showdown with the Acheron.
One of Master and Commander's problems is its constant, clunky attempts to foreshadow later events. There are some images and symbols in the first third of the film that, when first introduced to the viewer, seem to almost desperately cry out "remember me when I come back later on". These include a glimpse of a "public" surgery onboard the ship, a character who loses a limb and is promised by his best friend that he will be carefully stitched up should he die from his injuries, and, of all things, a scene where Maturin and Blakeney talk about insects who have the ability to camouflage themselves to protect themselves from predators. You'd have to have a coin stitched into your head to not see the inevitable scenes that come up later on.
Crowe is delightful as Aubrey, and while Paul Bettany does a fine job of making the naturalistic doctor an empathetic figure, it's difficult to share his inclinations to study species of wild life while simultaneously acting as a member of the crew aboard a war vessel. It would have surprised me greatly if the captain had relented, because it is simply incongruous to the expectations of serving aboard a ship of this kind. The rest of the crew is comprised mostly of your stock fare, but the cast seems mostly up to snuff, and because the attention to detail with respect to life at sea is so meticulous, the trade-off is fair.
In a lot of ways, Master and Commander: The Far Side of The World reminded me of Mutiny on the Bounty. There are exotic locations, but also scenes where the captain is forced to harshly discipline his crew. Naturally, there are also murmurs of mutiny. Unfortunately, the stakes never come across as high as they do between characters like Captain Bligh and Fletcher Christian. The blind devotion to the captain and the overwhelming depictions of unconditional camaraderie seem stilted. Even the pariah onboard isn't ostracized by the crew enough to warrant a vested interest in his tragic fate.
The movie was directed by Peter Weir, and its special effects are grandiose in their subtlety and inconspicuousness. The Perfect Storm looks like the bathtub clunker it truly was next to this. Fans of Weir will recognize he has often had a propensity for teacher and pupil relationships in his films, and the trend continues here. Although almost uniformly praised by critics, this motion picture is quite good but not great. It is successful at being both rousing and epic. This -- and not any kind of stunning artistry or intellectual breakthroughs -- is the reason it works as well as it does.
