These have come up in discussion lately…

Seabiscuit (2003)
Dir: Gary Ross
Stars: Jeff Bridges, Tobey Maguire, Elizabeth Banks, Chris Cooper, Gary Stevens and William H. Macy

So, I was chatting with my pal Ron a couple weeks ago and this film came up in discussion.  There’s a scene in this picture that really hits me every time I think of Seabiscuit, but it comes at the midpoint.  Let me try and update us to the scene in question…  Seabiscuit does a great job of introducing the important characters – and particularly the life-changing events they’ve all encountered by the time Seabiscuit, a three year old racehorse, enters their lives.  Jeff Bridges stars as the owner of the horse, Charles Howard.  He has lost a son and a wife by this point, but his auto sales business has boomed.  We’ve also been introduced to the jockey, Red Pollard as portrayed by Tobey Maguire.  I’m always impressed watching the movie during the scenes in which Pollard makes himself sick in order to make weight for the race, which I suppose is just another element of this sport, but not one which I’d like to experience.  Regardless, the horse trainer, Tom Smith (played by Chris Cooper) has been around horses all his life and makes it very clear when he meets Mr. Howard that he doesn’t believe in throwing something away “just because it’s a little banged up”.  He says this in reference to a horse he saved from being shot through the head, a scene which Mr. Howard witnessed earlier that day.  It’s funny how that line does such a smooth and eloquent job of summarizing the theme of the entire film, particularly considering the film’s setting in the Great Depression.

Anyhow, the scene that I was trying to get to involves the first time Pollard rides Seabiscuit, but specifically in the pitch black of night.  The philosophizing Smith insists that both the horse and the jockey need to get the feel of each other; personally, I think Smith was right based on the scenes in which both Seabiscuit and Pollard endure some pretty awful physical abuse.  Anyhow, Pollard makes clear that he’s skeptical, to be polite, about this idea.  But, Smith talks him into it and Pollard takes off – into utter darkness.

I’ll try and comment more often on the effect of sound in a film, because I think it’s a totally under-rated ingredient in the recipe of movies: this scene does a superb job of using sound to keep us in suspense.  In the first few seconds after Pollard takes off on Seabiscuit, all the information we get is the sound of Pollard breathing and the horse’s galloping around the track.  Then, we hear Pollard cursing and complaining about what a stupid assignment this is, how he can’t see anything, how – Wait a minute… And then the light barely hits the rail of the track. The sounds of the jockey breathing and the horse plowing along can still be heard as the rail becomes more visible.  You can start to make out the track and then the horse and rider come into the picture.  Even Pollard has a line to the effect of, “This is really neat….”  Perhaps I’m over-analyzing it, but I thought this was a really slick scene that genuinely inspires hope in the audience.  The rest of the film is spectacular as well…

You can sometimes find complete copies of scripts on <dailyscript.com> and other online sources, but unfortunately I couldn’t readily find one for Seabiscuit.  I’d be very interested to see if this was a scene intended for the film, or if the filmmakers tried it and it worked?  Regardless, I hope I’ve convinced you to give the film a try!

*** NOTE: If you really liked this film, you may be interested in this October’s upcoming release with Diane Lane, Secretariat.  *** NOTE 2: You’ll notice I put Gary Stevens in the cast listing above: while I’ve been to the Kentucky Derby in the first weekend in May to bet and sip Mint Juleps, I’m not a huge race fan.  I didn’t know, therefore, that Mr. Stevens is a bona fide jockey and that this role was just a side step for him.  Frankly, I thought he did a hell of a job with it! 

Good Morning, Vietnam (1989)
Dir: Barry Levinson
Stars: Robin Williams, Forrest Whitaker, Bruno Kirby and J.T. Walsh

And now for Part 2 of 2 in this entry, Good Morning, Vietnam.  You see, I was chatting with my pal Drew recently, and this film came up in discussion!   Much like Robert Altman’s M*A*S*H, one of the primary elements of Good Morning, Vietnam is its attempts to find humor in a really humorless situation; I think Robin Williams was the perfect choice to explore both worlds of drama and comedy as the lead in this film.  Williams plays Adrian Cronauer, a true life Air Force disc jockey, who spends the movie merely trying to make some soldiers laugh with his radio show, have a little romance with a local girl and most of all, get out of Saigon alive.  He knows he’s not a soldier, and the film doesn’t bore us with a storyline of him trying to become one.  

I think this is actually one of Robin Williams’ better roles because it so evenly divides his time between all out comedy and straight-and-narrow drama.  Perhaps I prefer it when we see both the sad and happy faces of Robin Williams as opposed to just the sad (Insomnia) or happy (Toys, RV, License to Wed, etc.).  In other words, you’re laughing out loud at Cronaeur’s antics on the radio in some of the early Act 2 scenes, but then you’re crying with him at the end when he finds out the truth about one of his newer friends from Saigon.

Let’s come back to Cronauer’s goals of trying to stay alive for a moment.  Standing in his way or surviving Saigon is not only the violence brought to the city by the Viet Cong, but also the hatred of his superior officer, Sgt. Major Dickerson (not making that name up), played by J.T. Walsh.  I remember one of several “chew-out” scenes where Dickerson asks Cronaeur various questions; this time Dickerson abruptly asks, in reference to the insignia on his arm, “Cronaeur, what does three up and three down mean to you?”  Dickerson expects to hear “Sergeant Major”, I’m sure.  Instead, Cronauer deadpans the reply, “The beginning of an end?”  This scene is indeed comedic in nature.  What isn’t so comedic is when Dickerson sends Cronauer on a little trek down a road… 

The movie also boasts some great supporting roles played by Bruno Kirby as an uptight Lieutenant and Forrest Whitaker as Cronauer’s good pal.  If you’ve not seen Good Morning, Vietnam in a while, give it another watch!

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