Graham
Greene was incensed when Joseph L Mankiewicz’s 1958 adaptation of
his novel turned the story’s critical eye away from it’s
anti-American standpoint and towards an anti-Communist led stance.
Greene purists will therefore be more at ease with Philip Noyce’s
new adaptation of The Quiet American, which deals more
explicitly with the US involvement with Indo-Chinese politics during
the 50s at the root of events leading up to the Vietnam War. His
second politically sensitive film of the year after Rabbit Proof
Fence, Noyce’s adaptation is a timely one that has been held
back from release for over a year. But while it’s political
implications may not sit easily in the current post September 11 /
pre potential Iraq attack climate, they are worthy of thought and
discussion, and Noyce’s film is adult and intelligent to bear this
weight.
The
eponymous American at the center of the tale is first encountered as
his corpse is fished out of the Saigon river in the opening scenes,
identified as Alden Pyle (Brendan Fraser) by his English reporter
friend Thomas Fowler (Michael Caine). Only then does Fowler’s
voiceover takes us back to Pyle’s ill-fated arrival in Saigon as a
young an idealistic aide with charitable intentions for the war-torn
area. Ostensibly good-natured, Pyle’s ideals clash with the
world-weary London Times reporter Fowler, who is comfortably
installed in an opium fuelled existence with his young Vietnamese
lover Phuong (Do Thi Hai Yen). While Fowler keeps a distance between
the political events and his role as a reporter, Pyle feels an
inevitable involvement in the action and a need to help out, but
nevertheless the two become friends.
It’s
at this point in the story that Greene’s ability to graft
political anxieties onto human relationships comes into play, as the
love struck Pyle vies for Phuong, threatening Fowler and turning his
attitude towards self-preservation. This is subtly dealt with by
Noyce, but most superbly played out by Caine, who gives one of his
best performances of late. The vulnerable older lover in danger of
losing his woman to a younger contender, his crisis is one that’s
been played out in literature since Chaucer, but here Phuong comes
to represent Vietnam itself; the subject of dual intentions from
established colonialism and new arrogance. Pyle expresses his
intention to take care of Phuong, to protect and ultimately possess
her - reflecting the military aspirations that lie behind Pyle and
his fellow Americans’ façade in their meddling with Vietnamese
politics. A little over-explained later on in the film, especially
when Pyle actually states that ‘Phuong is like Vietnam,’ this
theme remains by and large a subtle one. Noyce allows the tension
between these three characters to play out whilst building up the
political situation around them and allowing viewers to draw their
own conclusions.
This
metaphorical conflict of cultures is played out against the backdrop
of real conflict that already exists in the region. Early on, a shot
of Saigon harbor shows an idealistic combination of twinkling lights
and tiny boats bobbing on the water. But flashing in the sky and
rumbling in the distance are signs of discord beneath this sweet façade,
a sense that pervades the entire film like the sense of foreboding
underling Phuong’s change of allegiances. But where the film will
be most problematic is in Pyle’s overt political ideology, the naïve
view that a moral ‘third way’ brought about by surreptitious
American involvement with General The’s (Quang Hai) alternative
army will resolve the Franco-Communist conflict. But The’s bombing
of Saigon Square later on leaves thirty people dead, possibly more
over time, leaving the US complicit in the slaughter and anguish of
innocent civilians.
Review by Laura Bushell · Nitrate Online
