By Tom Breihan
Translator: Issac
Proofreading: Easy two three
Source: AV Club (October 30, 2020)
In November 1997, Tom Hanks appeared with Ben Affleck in New York Times magazine. On the cover, the two of them yell at each other, pretending to be enemies of each other. The profile written by Lynn Herschberg is titled Two Hollywoods. These two Hollywoods refer to the mainstream of the old studio system and the rise of independent films. On the cover of that magazine, Ben Affleck was considered a representative of independent cinema.
At that time, Hanks easily became the biggest movie star in the world. He just finished Sleepless in Seattle, The Philadelphia Story, Forrest Gump, Apollo 13 and Toy Story, all of which are his masterpieces. He also won two consecutive Oscars. In 1996, Hanks relied on his reputation to direct his first debut film, The Unstoppable Miracle, a fun film that didn't go well at the box office, but he was also preparing to return to big-budget films.
"The Unstoppable Miracle"
In contrast, Affleck has just made his debut with small roles in films such as "Young and Crazy" and "Playing Cool". He starred in Kevin Smith's Guess And Find and co-wrote Mindcatcher, a film released a few weeks after the release of that issue of New York Times magazine. A few months later, Affleck won the Academy Award for Best Screenplay along with his best friend.
Ben Affleck and Matt Damon
In July 1998, Hanks and Affleck's films were released weeks apart, competing for the box office title of that year, somewhat strangely similar to the cover of The New York Times magazine at the time. But this time, Hanks and Affleck don't represent two Hollywoods. Instead, both were busy with luxurious, expensive studio blockbusters.
Both films depict a group of square-chinned, playful men (mostly actors from the independent film camp) who go into dangerous places to perform heroic missions. Both have deafening explosions, disorienting clips, and choking soundtracks that seem to emanate from a swollen throat. Both films were produced by populist directors. They all feature baby boomer movie stars as squinting, stoic leaders who have sacrificed their lives, but before that, they've spoken a few words of wisdom to a young star in Mindcatcher.
For two films that look so similar, The End of the World and Saving Private Ryan don't actually have any similarities. One of them, the July 1998 movie, was a summer movie that left you completely brainless, stimulating adrenaline for two and a half hours. The other is a modern classic war film that tells the story of the cruel and torturous journey of the human heart. So, at least at the domestic box office in the United States, the narrow victory of "Saving Private Ryan" is indeed a kind of miracle. "The End of the World" has earned higher box office internationally, but at least in North America, Steven Spielberg's films have dominated.
The success of Saving Private Ryan is not confusing. After all, it had the highest-grossing directors of all time, as well as the biggest stars of the era, who teamed up to make a film about World War II heroism, which is a subject matter that will never be out of date.
Spielberg had previously made American wars with the Nazis into popcorn movies; through the Raiders of the Lost Ark series, he created a complete IP. He also made an incredible blockbuster, Schindler's List, a film on the subject of a harrowing Holocaust. Before Saving Private Ryan, many films had dealt with the story of the Normandy landings; in fact, the highest-grossing film of 1962, The Longest Day, was thematically about it. But Saving Private Ryan is still a hardcore, irresistible movie. It's a miracle that so many people are spending money to see it.
The weekend of the release of Saving Private Ryan, I watched the movie with my dad and a girl I was dating, and it was a very strange decision for me. The opening scene is nearly half an hour of relentless bloodshed and meaningless death, and its horror is almost psychedelic. It feels like the death metal album cover of the mid-nineties came alive. The long-running scenes of Normandy beaches didn't come as a surprise; everyone who has read the film knows there will be such an ending. But knowing these scenes and actually sitting and watching are two completely different things.
It's all really horrible. In a stand-alone shot, Spielberg tells some bleak, hellish little stories.
The man was chopped up like meat before getting off the boat. Others are already dead while floating in the water. A soldier wandered around the ground aimlessly for a few seconds, then picked up his severed arm as if he could somehow repair himself. The other felt a bullet fly from his helmet, and he looked around in amazement, thinking he would survive, but soon another bullet went through his brain. In all of this, we see Captain John Miller, played by Tom Hanks, feel flustered and frightened like everyone else, but still try to craft a coherent battle plan in the chaos.
In those opening scenes, there's something I've never seen before. Blood splashed on the camera. The ocean was stained red with blood. American soldiers happily killed any enemy who tried to surrender. Watching these scenes is to wonder what you would do in this situation and how long you can live before you die. Obviously they did it on purpose.
Spielberg talked about denying any late-time audiences to the theaters for Saving Private Ryan, though I don't know how the theaters would force them to do so. Spielberg wanted everyone to be able to read it. He wanted everyone to think about the hell he depicted on the screen, about the real people, many of whom were still alive and who had indeed experienced that. (Many veterans had a tough time watching "Saving Private Ryan" that the Department of Veterans Affairs set up a hotline for those who were upset about watching the film.) ）
Spielberg's father fought in World War II, so Spielberg wanted Saving Private Ryan as a tribute. But there are also some obvious baby boomers who are engaged in self-reflection – this generation of middle-aged men who think about the sacrifices their families have made and wonder if they themselves can experience the same thing.
It was only after that opening scene that Saving Private Ryan really became a movie in the traditional sense — a movie with a lot of entertainment parts like The End of the World. Once we're done, we'll see the people the rest of the film is about, most of whom are characters in the typical war movie genre: stubborn sergeants, tough-talking New Yorkers, Bible-quoting Southerners, book-nibbling nerds. We understand the tasks, the conflicts, the determinants. But even if it becomes a traditional film, the shadow of the opening still hangs over everything.
Spielberg brought in a lot of promising young actors to fill those roles, as well as other parts of the film. I've seen reports that Matt Damon was hugely popular before the release of Saving Private Ryan, and Spielberg was angry about it; he wanted the actor to be a relatively unknown presence so that fans wouldn't think Ryan was a special person.
Damon's appearance does make you a little out of the movie. When I watched the movie in the cinema, I remember someone whistling at the screen. But watching "Saving Private Ryan" now is to feel the conflict brought about again and again by the familiar faces of this bloody world: the amusing sneers of Paul Giamati, the upsetting nathan Felian, the one-armed Brian Cranston staring at the bereavement letters, van Diesel bleeding to death in the muddy streets.
The casting was perfect. Jeremy Davis, who had just finished filming "Fight the Monkeys", lost the role of "Titanic" to Leonardo DiCaprio, who played the cowardly Upam who was very annoying. His whole experience is even more unbearable because many of us may fear that we will be like him in this situation. Adam Goldberg lost a more devastating battle than he had lost in dazedness and confusion. Giovanni Rebisi acted like a sad and gentle child.
During filming, Tom Sezemore struggled with heroin withdrawal, bringing just the right amount of belligerence intensity. Ed Burns was the first to star in a film he didn't direct himself, and he was one of the most boring of these people, but even he had a place. (In retrospect, Burns was the darling of indie films and looked like a CK model, but he never put those things together, which was crazy.) But I guess Damon and Affleck were there, waiting to steal his limelight. ）
At the center of the film is Tom Hanks, who uses his image as the father of America to portray the massacre with enough warmth and solemnity. In Saving Private Ryan, Hanks has a paternalistic style, and you can tell he cares deeply about his young men. But the character of Captain Miller also had to send dozens of such young men to their deaths, and he knew he would continue to do so. It was heavy for him.
Miller would not give his men the details of the individual because he knew he might kill them. When he was about to cry, he hid from the others. Every time Hanks makes an important speech in private in the film — and he does have a few times — he downplays it. Spielberg did the same. In a heated and emotional conversation between Hanks and Damon, Private Ryan announces that he will not leave his post, and Spielberg does not even use John Williams' exaggerated soundtrack. He let the silence linger.
There are some sad, sentimental plots in Saving Private Ryan. At the beginning and end of the film, the elderly Ryan stands in front of Miller's grave, over-rendering the pathos. Even after consciously stripping war movies of all the charm, Spielberg couldn't bring himself to make a completely anti-war war movie. He just needs to let the last bit settle down. I have a strange feeling about the whole episode of Urban insisting on letting go of a German soldier and later executing him; disturbingly, it is close to recognition of war crimes. It may be dishonest to end a film that is so discordant and tense with a scene equivalent to an action movie. But it's a good action movie.
The tension before the final battle was striking. My stomach doesn't feel good when I think about it. Some of the scenes are almost as brutal as the Normandy landings. But there's also an exciting and fun part: Sergeant Hovat, played by Sezemore, and a German soldier throw helmets at each other, and an injured miller shoots in vain with a pistol at an oncoming tank. The trick is impeccable.
Spielberg and photographer Janusz Kaminsky's aesthetic choices — faded colors, shaky handheld cameras that are long and unpretentious — will cast a huge shadow over decades of Hollywood action movie production. For example, it's hard to imagine what Paul Greengrass' films would have looked like without the precedent of Saving Private Ryan. But no one can apply this style to well-organized techniques as Spielberg did.
As a cultural phenomenon, Saving Private Ryan is a strange beast. On the one hand, it's a terrible test for you, which also strangely adds to its appeal. People go to see the film in honor of the older generation and repent of not having to go through the same thing. (I think something similar happened to The Passion a few years later.) ）
But at the same time, "Saving Private Ryan" is also an excellent film work, providing a huge display space for stars in front of and behind the camera. Contrary to the better critical meaning of the film itself, it is even interesting. When Shakespeare beat "Saving Private Ryan" to win the Academy Award for Best Picture, it was disturbing and confusing. It's not because Shakespeare's Love Story is a bad movie (it's not), but because the Oscars seem to exist to honor films like Saving Private Ryan.
Overall, the hits of 1998, even those that were really good, were loud, bright, childish, and stupid. There are a lot of robbery scenes in "The End of the World", "I'm Crazy for Mary" and "Stupid Rush forward", "Doctor Strange Doolid", "Rush Hour", "Godzilla" and "Heart Drops" are all top ten films at the year-end box office. Saving Private Ryan is as clarious and eye-catching as any other movie, but it's also raw, serious, and masterful. In an era when Hollywood blockbusters are getting more and more stupid, "Saving Private Ryan" is an exception and a winner.
After Saving Private Ryan comes out, you can't talk about these two Hollywoods anymore. There was a Hollywood in the past that went in a particular direction. Ben Affleck got on board and, like many promising young actors of his generation, flew to the asteroid. Hanks, God bless him, try to do something else. At least in 1998, other approaches worked.