Director: David Lean
Writer: David Lean
Cinematographer: Ernest Day
Producer: John Brabourne and Richard Goodwin

by Jon Cvack

Reading about E.M. Forster’s book, there’s a fascinating debate between postcolonial and feminist scholars as to just how offensive the book is. Postcolonial scholars believe it portrays an Indian culture that’s acquiesced to Britain’s hegemony; in this case, following white characters as they galavant amongst the oppressed local Muslim and Hindu people, a few of which they befriend, though not without the disdain of the majority of local Brits. Feminists believe that the central female character Adela Quested and her potential mother-in-law reflect two women who’re willing to abandon the chains of patriarchy and journey into an alien world where they can assert their ideas. Others believe it’s a classic and important story, written by one of the 20th century’s greatest writers. While I haven’t read the book, I was left with a position somewhere in the center-critical position; seeing a film that for its time (written in 1924) was a wildly progressive piece, in which some of the problems as compared today, while justified, might slightly outweigh the story’s benefits. What pushed me over is that should the book be similar in the plot as the movie, I did take significant issue with Adela’s character; serving as a woman who was - in the movie - far too easily manipulated by men to defend a position she didn’t believe. 

David Lean has made some of the cinema’s most epic stories. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), and Dr. Zhivago (1965), which I feel silly for mentioning, but for anyone that’s brainfarting, it’s important to have an immediate grasp of these texts and their scope. Less well-known though brilliant movies include Brief Encounter (1945), Great Expectations (1946), and Summertime (1955; and highly underrated film overall); demonstrating his transition from mid-budget movies (albeit making small stories feel massive) and into the great and epic stories he’d later create. While writing this I have the one feature of his remaining, Ryan’s Daughter (1970), which he made between the five-film periods from 1957 thru 1984 period. A Passage to India concluded it, having been unavailable for years until a recent release on Blu Ray arrived a few months ago.

I knew it’d fail to meet the perfection of Kwai, Lawrence, or Zhivago, but I figured what he missed in the story he might make up for in visuals; having a near-flawless filmography far behind him. Instead, the story proved underwhelming; feeling as though the flawed politics and criticism of the book contributed to its ineffective narrative. What worked was a bit too offensive, and all else fell short of what other filmmakers like Malle and Renoir have explored with their own portrayals of India and its rich culture. It felt like a man who, perhaps like Forstureer, failed to grasp why the story might have failed to work.

Adela Quested (Judy Davis) and her potential mother-in-law Mrs. Moore (Peggy Ashcroft) arrive in India and immediately meet up with Mrs. Moore’s politically ambitious son Ronny Heaslop (Nigel Havers) in Chandrapore, which is experiencing a people's uprising for independence. When a local school teacher Richard Fielding (James Fox), Adela and Mrs. Moore meet the Indian doctor Aziz Ahmed (Victor Banerjee), a widower who agrees to show them around the area, introduced by local school superintendent and Aziz’s friend Richard Fielding (James Fox) who encourages both women to dive into Indian culture.


Ronny disagrees with the friendship, as the current caste system treats Indians as second class citizens to the British ruling class. His mother Mrs. Moore disagrees with his ruthless pursuit of politics, in which his prejudices are rewarded, if not encouraged in order to preserve British hegemony. Mrs. Moore and Adela ignore his admonitions, shocking him when they go so far as to place their feet in a swimming pool of a local philosophy professor - who I’m shocked to find out is actually Alec Guinness; both for not at all recognizing the man, and more importantly, that somehow David Lean thought painting on a brown face in 1984 was a good idea; especially for a film that’s hoping to explore racism. It’s all the worse in a scene taking place minutes after when we go to a party where the local Indians are more or less segregated from the white British people; standing in the grass while the Brits sit at their table, resting on elevated platforms. It’s not even as though David Lean failed to capture the bigotry - or why having Guinness paint his face brown to play a Hindu - as during one scene, while passing a group of Indian women, a character mentions that they don’t understand English; only for a couple of the locals to mention the three others languages they speak in addition to Hindi.

Later Aziz takes Mrs. Moore and Adela on a tour of the Marabar Caves - a fictional destination (with its own Wikipedia page), which are known for their haunting ability to echo the speaker's words. In a series of cryptic shots, cutting between basecamp, a tour guide-led group, Aziz and Adela take off on their own. Ronny later arrives at the scene though Adela becomes separated and spooked; especially upon seeing Aziz at the cave entrance, looking in. Lean cuts to some birds flying and then Adela runs down a hill, falls into some cacti and soon accusations Aziz of raping her

The problem is that when you read about what happened in the cave from the book, you realize that Lean completely failed to capture the details or the mystery. Ultimately, we never know what happened in the book in which Ronny arrives earlier and confesses his love for Adela who fails to have similar feelings. She then heads off and meets up with Aziz, filled with lust and making a pass which he rejects; still agonizing over the death of his wife. She then races out and falls into the prickly plants; definitely assaulted, but what happens remains a mystery. Aziz and Ronny blame the tour guide, but nothing is ever proved. The caves serve as a fascinating metaphor for the story, both reflecting the boiling point that would lead to the Indian Nationalism that would overthrow the country, while the infamous echoes reflect the self-reflection of both Mrs. Moore and Adela who grasp India injustices.

The cave remains the film’s strongest scene, but watching Ryan’s Daughter which better abides by Lean’s usual style, creating more memorable images in its first forty minutes than in all of A Passage to India; almost feeling as though it failed to grasp even the most novice concepts that E.M. Forster explored within my cursory look. Lean seemed to take a bit too much of a side in his version, particularly in how he shot Aziz standing at the doorway looking in toward Adela - moments before she came running out; removing the ambiguity.

So begins the meat of the film as Aziz is allegedly innocent and wrongfully accused. All of Britain gets behind him, and we see another terrifying example of the popular tribal justice that carries on almost every other week of the month. The white people all assume that Aziz is guilty while the Indians protest against another use of colonialists subverting their justice system. The trial is a bit of a farce. The judge fails to maintain order while Aziz’s lawyers become overwhelmed with emotion, storming out in protest of the bias. Ronny disowns his fellow country club friends and the Indian people begin demonstrating. 

After reading my first couple books on American Reconstruction, I’m realizing that the bias in these types of mainstream trials have existed as long as any marginalized group has fought for justice. The cases serve not just for the immediate guilt or innocence of any one person, but as a reflection of the society at large. Having just finished The Run for His Life, the OJ Simpson trial might have been one of the most popular examples of this bias. 

It’s tough to differentiate whether it was Lean or Forster who dropped the ball in this section. Adela is relegated to a helpless persona; manipulated by the men in power in order to promote their agendas. In the end, it’s not the Indian lawyers who win the case, but Adela finally fessing up to the truth she’s been holding in. I suppose it reflects an issue existing within any culture; in which too few people speak up for the injustices they witness, no matter how wrong they are. 

In the end, Aziz is acquitted, bitter against his new white friends and demanding monetary damages from Adela. Ronny leaves, though years later,  he returns. Aziz still harbors resentment, until finally forgiving Ronny. We never know get to see what happened to Adela, leaving the end feeling empty; as though it could have continued on but didn’t.

Again just a quick glance at the book’s summary, we see that Aziz was suspicious that Ronny was leaving to go marry Adela - the girl that betrayed him - vowing to never befriend another white person again. While Ronny returns and attempts to reunite with his old friend, Aziz resists, declaring that they cannot be friends until India is free and independent; a particularly harsh conclusion against what sounds more nuanced in the book.

This would be the last feature David Lean would make until his death seven years later. At only 71 years old at the time and with a tremendous body of work behind him, I’m not sure what went wrong. Whether studios interfered or Lean finally met his match with source material. Reading about the book, I was left wanting an updated version; seeing it as an important story for our current times. The director would have to look no further than Lean’s other work for inspiration.

​

BELOW:  Some old school white privilege (though mostly because there's slim pickings on YouTube)

Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon

Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page

Director: Steven Spielberg
Writer: Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz; story by  George Lucas
Cinematographer: Douglas Slocombe
Producer: Robert Watts

by Jon Cvack

Spielberg would shift in a radical new direction after The Temple of Doom, making both The Color Purple ('85), Empire of the Sun ('87), and Always ('89) before returning to the series with The Last Crusade ('89), making me think this drift into drama might have inspired the more somber and profound story that The Last Crusade provides.

What I like about Temple of Doom and was failing to expect was the complete lack of exposition. I think most assume the usual formula is what The Last Crusade, Kingdom of the Crystal Skull ('08) and Raiders of the Lost Ark ('81) follow, which is an action-packed intro, followed by Indy’s return to university, to then be recruited for another adventure. In Temple of Doom, we are with Indy on a journey that just so happens to lead to all the best parts we remember. There was no grand mission, it was all coincidence, and while that typically wouldn’t work anywhere else, so goes Spielberg’s amazing talents.

Honoring Indy’s desire for everything to belong in a museum, I think this introduction should belong in an art museum. There is so much that is suggested - from drinking the poison to using the Lazy-Susan to exchanging the items to the champagne popping as the gunshot goes off - all if it happens with perfect space and speed, culminating in a great use of a set piece, as Indy takes cover behind a Gong, knocking it down, to follow it and jump out the window, as the man sprays bullets and we see all the strikes and marks. Everything operates at the most exciting level of realism and practical effects. I could just see the same scene being made today, completely dependent on computer graphics. This cool because it all looked so genuine, limited to how elements within a scene would physically operate, rather than honoring dull imagination. If Spielberg abandoned as much CGI as possible, and returned to this formula it would be one of the most successful films to come out in a decade.

We get to meet Short Round (Jonathan Ke Quan), who’s the film’s greatest character. And as much as I was thinking of all the films that have used this offensive trope, not having seen it in so long, I did see where someone might get offended. I just don’t agree. Short Round is never presented as stupid or attempting to mimic racist stereotypes, but is often courageous and intelligent with an incredible amount of heart.

We then get to meet the most annoying Indiana Jones Girl, Willie Scott (Kate Capshaw), who while providing a few laughs, really made me see this film in a new light. I remembered a genuine love interest, but in this film their entire relationship is based upon pure lust and desire. Indiana clearly finds her annoying, she clearly finds him rude, but they’re both just so attracted to each other. It was quite lascivious for a Spielberg film. Yet Willie’s role as the dumb blonde actually is one of the film's weakest elements. While I could say I’ve met people like this, as many probably have, it doesn’t really make it any more interesting. What’s so good about Elsa Schneider and Marion is that they’re both smart, deliberate women. Doesn’t mean Willie had to be more of the same, but this became pretty grating by the end.

The bug scene always reminds me of my mother who would verbally react with the same exact “Oh my god” every single time this scene came on. I also began thinking here about whether or not it’s offensive to assume these exotic people would consume the most vile food possible, but point aside, it’s one of the most memorable moments in cinematic history.

When this movie is discussed it’s this scene and the bugs that first pop into people’s mind. Again, for Spielberg to create images that have continued to exist in popular culture, made over thirty years ago just goes to show how phenomenally talented the guy was. When I watched that cart racing scene, I imagined the vast amount of imagination and talent it must have required to pull off a sequence that looks so real and incredible which rivals any CGI-infused action sequence. People watch this and are blown away because of how real it looks, and boy am I at loss for how he pulled this off other than rigging up a rollercoaster to a mountain he carved out.

The entire concluding sequence also brings up ideas of modern day slavery through spiritual exploitation, as when piecing together how this whole operation worked, it was clear that Mola Ram (Amrish Puri) had somehow devised a religion that demanded the killing off of adults, leaving the children as slaves, who could only look forward to when they’re sacrificed in order to go and join their parents and live a better life in heaven. At least that’s what I got. It’s a pretty heavy idea; with religion able to control the masses into doing terrible things all to be motivated by a better life in the hereafter.

BELOW: One of the all time most memorable scenes from action-adventure cinema 

Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page

Director: Louis Malle
Producer: James Bruce 
Cinematographer: Louis Malle

by Jon Cvack

After Malle’s God Country (1985) I was very excited to see his next film. This one focused on immigrants throughout the United States in 1986, exploring Koreans, Vietnamese, Chinese, Russians, Slovakians, Indians, Cubans, Mexicans, opening on a Romanian jogger, running through the woods, who explains that, like most, he came to the country for the freedom and pursuit of happiness, which it seems safe to surmise that he found.

With immigration’s recent return to the spotlight, it’s films like this that make me realize how long this has been a divisive political issue within America. Malle gives a quote by Thomas Jefferson, admonishing against open borders and the dangers of immigration saying:

“The present desire of America is to produce rapid population by as great importations of foreigners as possible.  But is this founded in good policy? The advantage proposed is the multiplication of numbers. Now let us suppose (for example only) that, in this state, we could double our numbers in one year by the importation of foreigners; and this is a greater accession than the most sanguine advocate for emigration has a right to expect.  Then I say, beginning with a double stock, we shall attain any given degree of population only 27 years and 3 months sooner than if we proceed on our single stock. If we propose four millions and a half as a competent population for this state, we should be 54 1/2 years attaining it, could we at once double our numbers; and 81 3/4 years, if we rely on natural propagation, as may be seen by the following table.” Thomas Jefferson, Notes on Viriginia

Sorry for the length, as Malle doesn’t recite the entire quote, but I think it’s important to read the whole thing; which to be honest, having a read a few books about Jefferson, I don’t remember hearing anything about this, and had to confirm its veracity, as given how liberal this guy is considered, hearing what would now be conservative far right wing rhetoric described in one of his most popular books is a great discovery toward enriching the debate in regards to which side of the spectrum he was actually on.

Some people don’t want immigrants here because they’ll take their jobs, others don’t want them because they fear some type of cultural change. Regarding the first, I actually just came across a Doug Stanhope bit shared by an old professor which sums up the basic illogic of the idea; that is, if you’re scared about losing your job to someone who very likely doesn’t speak any English, owning only the clothes on their back, you’re probably not in too great a position (not saying all, or even most immigrants fit this description).

The hate is as old as humanity, as it’s far easier to blame the poor person being helped or the colored person that doesn’t speak any English for why you're struggling rather than to understand the complex ideas and reasons why inequality actually exists. Many businesses rely on cheap immigrant labor, but you don’t hear people attack the businesses for hiring them; which, at the very least, seems to offer the best solution for reform. It’s supply and demand, in which if you limit the supply of jobs, then the demand will go down. If there were no jobs here for immigrants, then less of them would come here. But still people blame the immigrants. 

The point is to demonstrate that the lack of logical consistency shows the arbitrariness of their discrimination. None of the reasons people give, whether because immigrants steal jobs or some of type of cultural appropriation, make any sense. And in this day of facts and lies, it’s difficult to even have a debate at all.

In a fascinating sequence a Border Guardsmen processes a Latino immigrant who was sneaking across the border in the dead of night. The immigrant tells the guard that he will be back over within twenty-four hours, and basically until his money has all run out. Recently, on an episode of "This American Life" I learned that by simply declaring refugee status whether due to political or religious persecution, you can stay over here. While they attempt to investigate, the process takes weeks, and the individuals can often escape into the country. I hate to describe this because it implies that more people are willing to lie than otherwise might. But the episode did highlight how difficult it is to really do anything about the ones coming over, other than to send them back. The same went for the Border Guardsmen, who simply drove the man back, to drop the gentleman off, who promised to attempt crossing again as soon as possible. I’m not sure what the answer is in this case. Perhaps the laws are too lax, in which case why not attempt to speed up the legal process - lower the bureaucracy and increase the policing. Most importantly, congress could introduce an infrastructure bill to get Americans back to work, so they don’t feel like they are competing for those lower paid jobs. It’s when the economy is struggling that immigrants are often the first to get blamed. I always wonder what people will say when the economy still sucks and we have a Great Big Wall.

A contradiction that always fascinates me is knowing that everyone in this country is an ancestor of an immigrant. Malle allows us to see that most of these families simply wanted a better life. To think of how easy it once was to migrate to the states and that the country we have 100% based upon this migration is incredible to imagine in this modern debate.Thomas Jefferson has a point in that culture will shift, and before you call foul, think of how much we destroyed the Native American culture. We were immigrants who came in openly, and we wiped them to pieces.

I can’t help but roll my eyes when people say we have laws, when those laws were only put in place by people who demanded we tighten our borders. They ran into a castle, looking for safety, and demanded they close the portcullis. I honestly don’t even know where I lie on the spectrum anymore, except that we need some regulations, we should punish repeat offenders, we should continue to accept those in need of help, and do our best to accommodate everyone looking for a better life. The thing is that only could work with a healthy economy, and I think until we get back on track toward equalizing the field, doing something to resolve income inequality, we are going to have far larger problems on our hands.

I know I didn’t talk much about the film, but I think the point of Malle’s story is that demonstrating that these people are just like you - they want what’s best for their family, willing to leave everything and everyone they know behind to create a better life in America. I’ve always been proud of that. That people could journey from all over the world, escape the wildest of places, all to come create something of themselves here. Now that it’s getting more difficult, there seems a natural defense to look at what’s different. Malle’s great talent is to show what makes us all the same. We all have beliefs, some are successful, others aren’t, some have wives and children, others have generations beneath them, reinvented in ways once unimaginable.

We see how Miami’s Cuban identity was brought about the refugees, who soon comprised 60% of the city that we now consider one of the most luxurious. There’s a Vietnamese Doctor who’s one of the only Vietnamese Doctors in Nebraska, having gone there for an exchange program and never wishing to return, and he’s as boring and humorless as any other suburban upper middle class doctor. We meet a former El Salvadoran General who was a part of their fierce military - now living in a magnificent mansion, filled with expensive art and furniture, with his grandchildren running all around.

Malle shows that there truly is nothing different between us and them: some are boring, some are funny, some are annoying, some are wildly intelligent and fascinating - and yet so many Americans want to look at their skin color, or where they’re from and assume the worst intentions. If they only took a second to imagine if their own government fell into the hands of an opposition they disagreed with, they might too want to escape and hope a country like America would take them in. I think one of the largest problems in today’s politics, and probably existing forever, is viewing different people and their beliefs as monoliths.  It’s a film like this that you could show to the other side. Without diving too heavily into the politics, it simply shows that we’re all people with dreams.

BELOW: Doug Stanhope making a dang good point

Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page

Director: Steven Spielberg
Writer:Jeffrey Boam; Story by George Lucas and Menno Meyjes
Cinematographer: Douglas Slocombe
Producer: Robert Watts

by Jon Cvack

Every year throughout my teens, all the way up through high school, I would kick off summer by watching the Indiana Jones trilogy on VHS. I didn’t really have a favorite film from the series, since as being a kid they all felt part of the same story. The Temple of Doom remains the film that I often first associate with the trilogy, as my mother and sister hated the bug scene, which etched itself into memory as one of the first scenes I recall anxiously expecting from a movie - in this case reaching your hand inside a bug infested hole in a wall - always hearing my mother’s voice say “Oh my god” when the scene began.  

The films epitomized summertime in youth, where alongside Back to the Future, they provided some of the greatest adventure stories a kid could ask for. Like most others, I found a jump rope to act as my whip, digging through my closet full of toy guns, and grabbing my revolver to battle the Nazis. Thinking back, it was films like this that must have planted the seed of my love for movies - offering exciting escape into a world that was both fantastical and unfamiliar, and yet which all felt so real. These films serve as one of the finest examples in demonstrating how the highest level of filmmaking craft can tap into anyone’s subconscious; where even young kids, who know nothing of how the films are technically achieved, agree that it’s an incredible film. It shows that craft of the highest magnitude is what creates widespread praise, allowing the piece to shift from an ephemeral moment and into becoming part of the culture.

While I’m not positive, I’m pretty sure I haven’t watched either this film or The Temple of Doom since high school, having possibly seen Raiders of the Lost Ark when I was in college. I recall wanting to wait until I bought or had the DVD set, which then changed to wanting the BluRay, always putting it off and waiting for the right summertime moment. Given that it’s January 30 (at the time of writing this), I’m not sure why I wanted to watch the film, other than that I’ve been working long hours on a few deadlines and needed some old fashioned escape.

I knew I hadn’t seen this movie in a long time when I thought I might have put on Kingdom of the Crystal Skull for a second, as I didn’t recognize any of the intro. We’re following some type of Boy Scout club, as a young Indiana Jones and his bloviated friend follow a group of treasure hunters deep into a cavern, where the men dig up and steal the golden Cross of Coronado. Calmly and collectively, Indiana Jones pulls a snake off his friend’s lap and tells him to get the troupe. The friend leaves and Indiana Jones jumps down, grabs the cross and runs out, finding the troupe gone. He hops onto a horse and gallops toward a train pulling a bunch of circus cars, thus entering into one of the greatest action-adventure intros of all time.

As though straight out of a Buster Keaton movie - in wide we see a Indiana running from one of the men. Although the very real train is moving very fast, they’re held in center frame, running along the cars like a treadmill. It doesn’t cut until Indiana heads into the lizard car, where inside there’s a bunch of crocodiles and snakes. He hangs up on the rafters, and we know where this is going - and making us all the more anxious as we just saw that Indiana doesn’t yet have his snake fear. Of course he falls in, covered in the creatures, and then escapes. He then heads up to the train roof, and again looking all exceptionally real, not at all like it was done in some green screen, Indiana fights with a man while a rhino slams its horn through the train car. It all culminates in him heading to the magic car, where he makes a very obvious hiding choice in a magic box as the man comes inside, only to create one of the coolest shots of the movies, as in a single take, where again on a moving train - Indiana disappears through the magic box, the camera pans with the man and out the rear window where we see Indiana running off. It’s a scene like this where the moment, you realize you have launched off and are about to enter into a different world.

Scenes like this are most similar to the grand musical numbers that often open the genre (and strange that fans of one side typically don’t like the other). What makes the scene work is that we are constantly moving through a situation that makes perfect sense, no matter how ridiculous the situation is. From the grand desert to the cavern to chasing a train and then onto a train, but not just any train, but a circus train whose every car offers a different obstacle. All so often action scenes seem to throw away the logic of simple movement - let alone story - constructing how a character gets from one place to the other in order to accommodate the next big scene. We can laugh and they’re fun, but the world immediately feels fake in such cases. The opening of Indiana Jones shows Spielberg’s magnificent ability to show rather than tell information, as so much of the scene exists without words, and yet the amount of information and story we get is as full as any great dialogue.

This extends throughout the film, where Indiana Jones finally meets up with his father Henry Jones (Sean Connery) in one of the greatest father/son roles of all time. Meeting Henry for the first time, completely oblivious to Indiana’s safety or injury, he makes the boy count one through twenty in Latin. The Sheriff then shows up, demanding the cross back. After all we just experienced it didn’t matter. And in that moment of defeat, we receive the final piece that makes Indiana Jones who he is - the hat, received not from some great and noble man, but from a corrupt treasure hunter who inspired Indiana to do what he did. This could be watched as a short film and stopped right there.

Luckily it doesn’t, though, as just as the young Indiana puts on the hat and bows his head, we cut with the Spielberg touch to Harrison Ford, head bowed, hat toward us, fighting men on a ship that’s about to explode. This was another great touch, as the white-suited mustachioed man was seen in the background during the flashback, now battling modern Jones, aboard a ship that’s about explode. Jones is victorious and he finally retrieves the cross that inspired his entire career.

Check back for Part 2...

BELOW: One of the greatest action movie intros
​
Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
​