Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Captain Phillips is an absolute adventure, a film review


From its delicate opening to its smashing last scene, director Paul Greengrass’ new film Captain Phillips is an absolute thriller. Being an audience member of this film is like riding a roller coaster at Kings Island: the audience swoops up and down, left and right, on both a physical and emotional journey past the guns and past the violence. It’s almost as if this film sits behind you in the theater and, as you watch, picks out your spine bit by bit. Everything is carnal, everything is strictly here and now. Nevertheless, beyond the jolting camera movements and the shouts of the Somali pirates, there is something very, very big going on: this is not a movie about a hijacked cargo ship. It is a movie about the human will to survive.

The film opens quietly. At home, Richard Phillips (Tom Hanks) is preparing to leave the house to navigate the MV Maersk Alabama to Mombasa. Phillip’s wife Andrea, played by Catherine Keener, accompanies him to the airport, from which he departs after the couple discusses their children and their growing perspectives of each other and the world. 

This is the only time we see Phillips at home. He is soon whisked off to a port, where he and his crew set sail. To get to Mombasa, the Maersk must travel around the coast of Somalia -- and here is where the action begins. 

Despite the film’s title, Greengrass shows both sides of the story. Although much, much more time is devoted to Phillips’ ordeal, the audience is still allowed to glimpse the Somali pirates in their small seaside hometown. The motivation of these men is clear: money. They are poor fishermen and they, too, have families and wants and needs.

Two skiffs of Somali pirates soon spot and target the Maersk. Four pirates in particular, led by Muse, are the more adamant. They are the ones who intrude the ship, while the rest of the pirates turn back, daunted. 

The first time Phillips sees the pirates, he is frightened by the confidence they exude. Their broken English bubbles with authority because they have the guns and they know the plan. Nevertheless, things don’t go so well for them, either. They are outfitted in skimpy vests and baggy pants, one of them even barefoot. They have rifles and handguns and two skiffs, which are basically glorified fishing boats. Half of the pirates even turn back before they reach the Maersk. Hopes are low even before the confrontation begins.


As the film plays on, the audience becomes attuned to the subtlety of Greengrass’ directing style and the conscious decisions he made: though the pirates are still the villains, they have become more human. By showing us their origins and their community, Greengrass has given them a new face. Instead of pitting the good American vessel against the vicious, foreign horde, Greengrass has pitted man against man, human against human. 

Throughout the film, cinematographer Barry Ackroyd sweeps us over docks, tosses us around waves and gives us a tour around the interior of the ship. Shots are shaky and gritty, but remain very real. Greengrass is careful to immediately follow shakiness with smooth, rolling shots -- keeping in mind the dizzying effect a handheld camera can have on viewers.

Film scores are meant to compliment the story, and applause to the composer who can create music so integral to the film that we can barely hear it. Composer Henry Jackman did exactly that. Chilling and quiet and pouncing -- the music neither dominates nor is overpowered by the other aspects of the film. 

Screenwriter Billy Ray utilizes terse dialogue and an emphasis on doing to create intense, claustrophobic situations. Not afraid to place the viewer in the thick of every confrontation, the script keeps us constantly aware and on-edge.

Newcomer Barkhad Abdi, who plays Muse, was in-tune with his character to such a degree that every muscle movement relayed a sense of Muse’s motivation. Abdi brings a level of emotional depth to the non-traditional “bad guy,” and his acting grows stronger as the movie continues. It doesn't hurt that he was actually born in Somali and brings complete authenticity to his role.

Hanks, however, was the indubitable star of the show. Until the last few minutes of the film, Phillips remained very masculine, very stoic and emotionless; and Hanks was assigned the difficult job of conveying inner turmoil while remaining externally calm. 

But don’t worry. He pulled it off perfectly.

Perhaps the most frightening part of the film is when Phillips is rescued. (Note that this is not a spoiler. Phillips is a real person and he is still alive and well). For the last few minutes of the film, every corner of the screen is flooded with a godly absolution. The fear is over. There are no more guns. There are no more threats. There are no more beatings. There is, instead, relief in its purest, basest, most human form. And as we watch Phillips in real time, we feel the truth in our bones... 

Hanks is the best there is. There is simply no one better.

Every moment of the movie was action-packed, but none of that seems to compare to the calm after the storm. I'm serious; watch this film for that last scene. The culmination of every line and movement and punch of the film -- the music roars and so does Hanks’ acting. 

This is what cinema is about. This is why people watch movies.

Overall, Captain Phillips is a piece of art. All departments of production are so coherently built together, to peel off one aspect of the movie would be impossible. Music works, directing works, acting works, writing works. Cinematography is very, very shaky, but it works. This is one of those movies whose meanings go beyond the picture. Resonating throughout the film are the questions of what it means to be alive, what it means to be and stay human, even in the most dire of situations. 

Please, do not watch this movie to be entertained. 

Watch it to learn.