Mel Gibson might as well make "vengeance" his middle name. Oh, sure -- fellow Aussie beefcake Russell Crowe took an admirable stab at one-upping mighty Mel as Gladiator’s justice-seeking hero. But Gibson’s been playing a score settler since way back in 1980, when his leather-clad Mad Max kicked serious biker butt after seeing his family run down and killed. Gibson continued this revenge theme with Lethal Weapon’s wild-eyed cop, Martin Riggs, who staggered through four films as a jittery crackpot who withstood inhuman torture and punishment, only to rise up and crush his tormentors. But why stop there? We haven’t even touched on Ransom, Conspiracy Theory, Braveheart, and -- inevitably -- Payback, all of which featured this deliverer of retribution doing what he does best. Indeed, it would be entirely appropriate for Gibson to name his production company after the Metallica song, Damage, Inc.
The plight of The
Patriot’s Redcoat-slashing hero, Benjamin Martin, isn’t much
different than those of other screwed-over loose cannons he’s
played, aside from the Revolutionary War acting as a backdrop. The
story is laced with early-American politics and historical
flourishes, but at its core, The Patriot is a revenge melodrama... again. Nix the ponytail, and
Benjamin could be William Wallace, sporting a kilt as he dodges
Britain’s arrows, or Martin Riggs running down drug smugglers in
Los Angeles. Same old song and dance? Perhaps. Yet, what a
sensational jig this Gibson dances! The eyes blaze. The teeth gleam.
The nostrils flare. With the possible exception of Al Pacino in his
prime, there’s not another thespian alive that can match this
commanding star’s fury as he’s downing the enemy with musket,
sword, and hatchet. It works, so Gibson isn’t about to fix it.
The
Patriot begins with long,
panoramic scenes of colonial-era South Carolina. Eight of the
thirteen American colonies have formed militias to fight against the
invading British armies, and mobs are burning a likeness of King
George in Charlestown. Meanwhile, an assembly has convened there,
with Colonial soldiers encouraging locals to establish their own
military force. Martin, however, rejects the notion. A legendary
warrior from the French-Indian Wars, this father of seven children
has his reservations about returning to combat. When a comrade
questions Martin’s principles, the retort is blunt and assured:
"I’m a parent. I don’t have the luxury of principles."
But there’s something bothering
Martin about the Revolution that extends beyond his paternal concern
for family safety. The inevitable war is forcing him to re-evaluate
past deeds and agonize over a colonial
post-traumatic-stress-disorder. Looking into a rear view mirror with
an old and wiser eye, this mellowed dad doesn’t like what he sees.
When one of his sons peruses through an old war chest, finding and
donning his dad’s military uniform, Martin gives him a
disapproving glance. "Put it away," he instructs coldly.
Later on in the film, we learn the full extent of this man’s past
wartime deeds. It’s not pretty.
Before long, Redcoats and Colonial soldiers are exchanging gunfire outside the Martin homestead, where Benjamin is acting the role of pacifist by tending to the wounds of both sides from his porch. The reluctant warrior is jolted into action, however, when a cruel British colonel named Tavington (Jason Isaacs) shackles the eldest of Martin’s sons, Gabriel (Heath Ledger), and yanks him off of the family farm to be hanged. As one of his younger boys attempts to rescue Gabriel, the remorseless colonel shoots him in the back. Following this cold-blooded offense, Mel becomes The Payback Patriot.
"Lord, make me fast and
accurate," Martin prays before leading two younger sons to a
swampy crossing and ambushing Gabriel’s captors. It’s a
horrifying sequence, as the father instructs his prepubescent boys
to kill on sight and joins them in a bloody, savage rescue involving
guns and hatchets. The eerie executions, juggling slow motion with
gritty, up-close battle, echo Michael Mann’s gorgeously gory war
scenes from Last of the
Mohicans, and Steven Spielberg’s unsparing carnage from Saving
Private Ryan. In subsequent battles, where the stakes are raised
and thousands of troops charge each other with cannons and musket
fire, heads and limbs are removed en masse by speeding, metal
projectiles. As with Gibson’s Academy-Award Winner Braveheart,
The Patriot is
distinguished by riveting, realistic, and rousing battle scenes.
Meanwhile, there’s more than just gore and grue. Robert Rodat’s complex script weaves together a web of details that often seem like throwaways until they evolve into more crucial plot points later on. And there are surprises. After the rescue of Gabriel, for instance, Martin is shocked to hear one of the participating sons relishing the memory of his killings. "I’m glad I killed them," the boy proclaims with complete conviction. It’s scary to hear the youngster process combat not as trauma, but as liberation.
There are clever scenes involving
Martin’s attempts to recruit militia members, after he’s finally
committed himself to the Colonial cause. Interrupting a church
service, his pushy recruiters convince a minister to enlist. "A
shepherd must tend to his flock," says the inspired clergyman,
"and sometimes fight off the wolves."
On the downside, there are also
sappy moments, including a tacked-on romance between Gabriel and a
peppy romantic interest named Ann: the two mischievous lovebirds
lace each other’s tea with ink and giggle lovingly with
black-toothed smiles. By film’s end, this dumb courtship ritual
has become a tired gag. Equally overstated are The
Patriot’s many, unending scenes of people coming to mutual
understandings and exchanging knowing glances, while John
Williams’ feel-good score pounds forth annoyingly. For instance,
there’s the token African American slave who continues to fight
with Martin’s troops even after being granted his freedom.
"It’s a pleasure to serve with you," offers a white
soldier when the slave announces; "Now I’m here on my own
accord." More knowing glances and soaring strings follow.
Ho-hum.
Ultimately, The
Patriot boils down to a confrontation between Martin and
Tavington, and it’s fortunate that this adversarial relationship
anchors the movie. Isaacs plays the British Colonel as a fiendish
monster equal parts Captain Hook, Hannibal Lector, and Sgt. Barnes
of Platoon. Wielding a
crooked sword and painting the battlefield as red as his uniform,
this mannered, sneering thug isn’t beyond burning a church full of
worshippers or impaling fresh-faced Colonial recruits just for the
ugly fun of it. When he lets down his waist-length mane during the
final bloody battle, Tavington resembles a charismatic rock frontman
strutting for a crowd. Carnal, cunning, and wicked, Isaacs’
Tavington is one of the best screen villains of the past decade.
Review by KJ Doughton · Nitrate Online
