I have an obsession with "Epic" films. To this genre, I count pieces like Petersen's Troy (2004), Mankiewicz's Cleopatra (1963) and, believe it or not, Bay's Pearl Harbour (2001).
I recently saw the latter again by chance encounter and the nostalgic melodies (courtesy of the ever-so-great Hans Zimmer) and "epicness" of the film were not lost. I personally am not a Michael Bay fan - I agree with the many who claim his films are no more than soft-core pornography for the new generation. In the case of Transformers: The Dark Side of The Moon I can not deny that the argument is spot on; recall the bum shot? Nevertheless, I have my doubts when it comes to Pearl Harbour.
Should I just come out and say it, loud and clear?
I like the film.
Apart from being a disgustingly transparent piece of American propaganda, it carries human sentiment and melancholia with it. Now this may not be the deep-rooted feeling that the likes of Elia Kazan (A Streetcar named Desire) and Bernardo Bertolucci (The Dreamers) portray in their films, nevertheless one must remember a crucial fact: Michael Bay makes films to entertain and, let's face it, to make money. I do not believe that he will be remembered as one of the great directors of our time; Bay will be remembered as an action-fuelled, muscles-and-cleavage type of guy and purely a money-making machine. His other works lack any kind of feeling, whichever direction he has taken them in.
But let us for a moment forget the horror of all the tough men and robots running around trying to save an already mutilating world.
Pearl Harbour is not a film by Michael Bay.
It is a star vehicle for its three main actors as well as the ones assigned to minor roles -
How could one forget the mumbling Ewen Bremner or the cynical Michael Shannon, the shy Jennifer Gardner or the bubbly Jaime King?
The three major stars are naturally Ben Affleck in the role as the tougher-than-life, big, bad boy Rafe, Josh Hartnett in a calmer and more poetic version of Affleck's character and Kate Beckinsale as the strong, sensual woman they both fall and fight for.
Beckinsale's beauty shines through the ages as usual and no one can break the two main male actors' persona. All simple, non?
What if Bay would have made things less typically American? What if instead of killing off Danny (Hartnett) in an act of heroism and supposedly inspiring display of brotherhood, Rafe had lost his life? Or would that have made him the true hero of the story after all, a nomination which passes on to Danny? Rafe begins and ends his story with all the spoils and Evelyn (Beckinsale) lets him get away with it, after having told him that she would give her love to Danny and Danny alone. Perhaps unintentionally, she lets an indication of a possible future together slip before Rafe departs. This unfulfilled promise then claims her life as she ends up where she began: in Rafe's sun-tanned arms.
The emptiness of the basic story is filled by the performances and the music, mainly, then pumped up by the largely American audience, who would gulp down the blatant propaganda as if it were a cold ice tea on a steamy summer's day.
Hans Zimmer, one of my two all-time favourite composers (the other one being James Horner), accompanies and seamlessly holds the picture together, bringing unwilling tears to our eyes during the many boy-leaves-girl scenarios.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Pearl Harbour is not a film by Michael Bay.
It is a film by Ben Affleck, Josh Hartnett, Kate Beckinsale and Hans Zimmer, for the propaganda-hungry Americans of today.
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