Reviews

Films

The Gods Must Be Crazy

Directed by Jamie Uys, starring N!xau

South Africa might not have been the happiest place to live in the 1980s, but somehow in the midst of Apartheid and international condemnation, a filmmaker named Jamie Uys made a cult comedy. Sly in its sophistication, The Gods Must Be Crazy uses age-old slapstick techniques, B-movie dialogue and deadpan narration to terrific effect. And so what may seem to be a silly desert romp involving a tribesman, a Coke bottle and insurgents is actually a lot smarter than it first appears.

The story kicks off when a Coke bottle is dropped by a litterbug pilot from a plane. The bottle is then discovered by a Kalahari bushman who takes the mysterious object back to his tribe thinking it is a gift from the gods. The "gift" is then used for numerous purposes but its indispensability creates tension as tribe members bicker over it. Seeing what it is doing to his family, a tribesman decides to return it to the gods and sets off on an odyssey. Along the way he crosses paths with civilized types like a scientist, a schoolteacher and a band of guerillas.

The determined tribesman (played by N!xau) gives the audience a different perspective on the behavior of those he encounters. While he approaches all situations with logic, his new friends and enemies seem comparatively manic. If they're not fighting with each other, they are fighting against their machinery and are all cloaked in layers of clothing even though they are in a stifling hot desert. It's thoughtful observational humor, although the big laughs come from the deadpan David Attenborough-style narration. Ben Davey

Scarecrow

Directed by Jerry Schatzberg, starring Gene Hackman, Al Pacino

Just because you don't have a fixed address doesn't mean you can't dream. This is the message that several movies of the late 1960s through the 70s, a celebrated period for American filmmaking, ram home. There are the freewheeling bikers from Easy Rider, the down and out hustlers in Midnight Cowboy and Gene Hackman and Al Pacino as two drifters in Scarecrow. For most of its running time it paints a funny and moving picture of lost souls trying to find their place. Unfortunately however, melodrama undoes some of this fine work.

Max (Hackman) has just been released from prison where he served six years for assault. On a rural roadside he meets Lionel (Pacino) who has just returned from a stint with the Navy and is making his way to visit his child, whom he's never laid eyes on. After some cajoling from Lionel, the two form a bond and decide to travel to Pittsburg together - via Detroit where Lionel's child is - and use Max's meager savings to open a car wash. After brushes with the law, the pair find that what they dream for is always just beyond their reach.

Stunningly photographed, Scarecrow is nonetheless an indulgent drama featuring two very different lead performances. Hackman is great as Max, a man who's dim-witted, cold but capable of love. On the other hand, Pacino's exaggerated style turns Lionel into a caricature. It doesn't help that the story forces a tragic final act on the duo that simply does not ring true. But when Pacino reins it in, like when he talks on the phone with the woman he deserted, he's terrific. It's a reminder of how good he can be when he gives the shouting a rest. BD

(China Daily 08/28/2007 page20)