Yet more summer action films! These two deal with America's continuing problem with illegal immigration. In Nicholas Refn's Valhalla Rising, a bunch of crusading Christian Vikings in the 10th century are punished for attempting to force their beliefs on America's indigenous population. In Robert Rodriguez and Ethan Maniquis' Machete, a bunch of Texans in modern day are punished by Mexican invaders for acting as if they were indigenous. Had the Vikings made it to the land we now call Texas and settled there 1,100 years ago, would they be called native Texans?
I was a bit confused about what was going on in Valhalla Rising, where the Vikings leave Norway looking for Jerusalem (but go off course by 1,800 miles), float through some mist for a little while (shorter than flying), go through a collective hallucination involving body paint, mud bathing and burly butt rape, and then wind up getting carved up by a bunch of Native Americans (when I thought they were still near home). The exact meaning of which doesn't really matter, since it's intended as a head film à la the late 60s to early 70s, e.g., 2001, Aguirre: Wrath of God and El Topo. Refn is pastiche filmmaker, like Paul Thomas Anderson or Quentin Tarantino, who wears his influences on his sleeve. You might call what he does syncretism if you like what he does, or postmodern gimmickry if you don't. I enjoyed his spin on Kubrick last time out, and how many people are making psychotropic films nowadays? The current film answers the question no one probably asked: what would have happened if Werner Herzog were a fan of Frank Miller? In addition to the continuing rejuvenation of the sword-and-sandal genre, the no-name hero is a mute, one-eyed oracle who slaughters people with a hatchet, accompanied by a telepathic boy who does all the talking for him, sort of a tripped-out mix of Lone Wolf & Cub with Fistful of Dollars. And Refn knows better than most how to shoot a Leone-style close up, where the face is part of the geography. The attempt at big metaphysical importance has something to do with One-Eye's journey with the Christians being a fait accompli due to his precognitive visions. He's willing to apologetically martyr himself for the colonial shitstorm that'll be coming to the aboriginal Americans in a few 100 years. But I'm satisfied with the geeky filmic allusions and bodacious butchery.
I was a bit confused about what was going on in Valhalla Rising, where the Vikings leave Norway looking for Jerusalem (but go off course by 1,800 miles), float through some mist for a little while (shorter than flying), go through a collective hallucination involving body paint, mud bathing and burly butt rape, and then wind up getting carved up by a bunch of Native Americans (when I thought they were still near home). The exact meaning of which doesn't really matter, since it's intended as a head film à la the late 60s to early 70s, e.g., 2001, Aguirre: Wrath of God and El Topo. Refn is pastiche filmmaker, like Paul Thomas Anderson or Quentin Tarantino, who wears his influences on his sleeve. You might call what he does syncretism if you like what he does, or postmodern gimmickry if you don't. I enjoyed his spin on Kubrick last time out, and how many people are making psychotropic films nowadays? The current film answers the question no one probably asked: what would have happened if Werner Herzog were a fan of Frank Miller? In addition to the continuing rejuvenation of the sword-and-sandal genre, the no-name hero is a mute, one-eyed oracle who slaughters people with a hatchet, accompanied by a telepathic boy who does all the talking for him, sort of a tripped-out mix of Lone Wolf & Cub with Fistful of Dollars. And Refn knows better than most how to shoot a Leone-style close up, where the face is part of the geography. The attempt at big metaphysical importance has something to do with One-Eye's journey with the Christians being a fait accompli due to his precognitive visions. He's willing to apologetically martyr himself for the colonial shitstorm that'll be coming to the aboriginal Americans in a few 100 years. But I'm satisfied with the geeky filmic allusions and bodacious butchery.
