http://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2016/11/hacksaw-ridge-review-mel-gibson
It’s tough to review Hacksaw Ridge, because Hacksaw Ridge is really two movies. One movie is a schmaltzy sort of biopic, about a son of the Smoky Mountains who, against his parents’ wishes, enlists in the U.S. Army as the nation is tilting into war with the Japanese. He’s a young man of deep faith, and refuses to even touch a rifle during basic training, resulting in a court martial and the abusive disdain of his fellow privates. The other movie is an annihilating, horrifying orgy of gore and violence not seen since director Mel Gibson’s (yeah, him) last film, Apocalypto, a turgid and mesmerizing fever dream about how everything in the jungle can, and will, kill you.
Strange and masochistic as it may be to say, I much prefer the latter Hacksaw Ridge, despite my squeamishness about blood and bone and all the other nightmare visuals the second half of the film visits upon us. Because there’s something deeply, troublingly authentic about it—it’s Mel Gibson’s mind flickering on a screen. Not quite as much as Apocalypto was. That film is, I believe, a raw, unvarnished document of Gibson’s view of the world, his closely held notion of Christianity as the only thing keeping the bloody chaos of mankind at bay. No other film will likely top that film’s arresting mix of bloodlust and existential awe. But Hacksaw Ridge is certainly another robust depiction of Gibson’s two big ideas: given the chance, humans—well, men—will rend each other apart, limb by limb; and belief in God—well, *****—is what animates the noblest of souls, who rise above or triumph against the original sin the unbelieving are bathed and roiling in.
The hero of Hacksaw Ridge, Desmond Doss, was certainly noble. As a medic during the brutal battle for Okinawa, he saved some 75 wounded soldiers near single-handedly, avoiding both enemy fire and Navy artillery while completely unarmed, lowering casualties down a 400-foot cliff to safety. Guided by his Seventh-Day Adventist faith, Doss did something amazing—and possibly insane. Gibson is, in many ways, the perfect director to re-create such an act, possessed of his own mad certainty. Though, Gibson’s manifests in aggressive ways, most famously in a drunken, anti-Semitic rant during an arrest 10 years ago that has haunted his career since. Thus Doss is a good, safe vessel for Gibson’s conviction. Doss is a kindhearted pacifist, but a brave and patriotic one. Around him Gibson can whip up his fiery death storms, but at the center there is someone good and un-violent, doing the inspiring work of attending to the messes that men like Mel make.
Doss is played by Andrew Garfield, one of the most winning actors of his generation. Cute and wiry, Garfield can play way younger than he is, and often does. Doss was 23 when he joined the military, Garfield is a decade older than that. Garfield is gifted at tapping into the focused, polite intensity of certain young men—you saw it in The Social Network, and you saw it when he played Spider-Man. (You should have seen it in last year’s 99 Homes, but no one saw that movie.) He’s found a great fit for his talents in Hacksaw Ridge, which asks him to be a sweet Virginia boy courting a sweet nurse (Teresa Palmer, doing what she can while playing a prop) and then a shell-shocked but determined man of valor in a lunar hellscape. Gosh, do we root for this kid, Garfield easing us into all this fervor with a millennial, contemporary decency that Mel Gibson could never achieve on his own.
Who else is in the movie? Oh, a bunch of Australian actors. Several Sydney Theatre Company seasons worth of Australian actors. We’ve got Hugo Weaving and Rachel Griffiths as Doss’s worried parents. (Weaving is doing a little Tennessee Williams play on his own, with his gummy accent and brown-liquor swilling. Former S.T.C. artistic director Cate Blanchett would be so proud!) We’ve got Sam Worthington and Luke Bracey as fellow soldiers. (I actually really enjoy both of their performances, even Bracey’s New Yawk accent.) We’ve got Palmer and Australian stage royalty Richard Roxburgh. Representing the Americans is Vince Vaughn, of all people, who turns a jokey drill sergeant into a serious man of action when the film shifts tones midway through. It’s a strong cast, even though just about everyone is miscast.
It’s tough to review Hacksaw Ridge, because Hacksaw Ridge is really two movies. One movie is a schmaltzy sort of biopic, about a son of the Smoky Mountains who, against his parents’ wishes, enlists in the U.S. Army as the nation is tilting into war with the Japanese. He’s a young man of deep faith, and refuses to even touch a rifle during basic training, resulting in a court martial and the abusive disdain of his fellow privates. The other movie is an annihilating, horrifying orgy of gore and violence not seen since director Mel Gibson’s (yeah, him) last film, Apocalypto, a turgid and mesmerizing fever dream about how everything in the jungle can, and will, kill you.
Strange and masochistic as it may be to say, I much prefer the latter Hacksaw Ridge, despite my squeamishness about blood and bone and all the other nightmare visuals the second half of the film visits upon us. Because there’s something deeply, troublingly authentic about it—it’s Mel Gibson’s mind flickering on a screen. Not quite as much as Apocalypto was. That film is, I believe, a raw, unvarnished document of Gibson’s view of the world, his closely held notion of Christianity as the only thing keeping the bloody chaos of mankind at bay. No other film will likely top that film’s arresting mix of bloodlust and existential awe. But Hacksaw Ridge is certainly another robust depiction of Gibson’s two big ideas: given the chance, humans—well, men—will rend each other apart, limb by limb; and belief in God—well, *****—is what animates the noblest of souls, who rise above or triumph against the original sin the unbelieving are bathed and roiling in.
The hero of Hacksaw Ridge, Desmond Doss, was certainly noble. As a medic during the brutal battle for Okinawa, he saved some 75 wounded soldiers near single-handedly, avoiding both enemy fire and Navy artillery while completely unarmed, lowering casualties down a 400-foot cliff to safety. Guided by his Seventh-Day Adventist faith, Doss did something amazing—and possibly insane. Gibson is, in many ways, the perfect director to re-create such an act, possessed of his own mad certainty. Though, Gibson’s manifests in aggressive ways, most famously in a drunken, anti-Semitic rant during an arrest 10 years ago that has haunted his career since. Thus Doss is a good, safe vessel for Gibson’s conviction. Doss is a kindhearted pacifist, but a brave and patriotic one. Around him Gibson can whip up his fiery death storms, but at the center there is someone good and un-violent, doing the inspiring work of attending to the messes that men like Mel make.
Doss is played by Andrew Garfield, one of the most winning actors of his generation. Cute and wiry, Garfield can play way younger than he is, and often does. Doss was 23 when he joined the military, Garfield is a decade older than that. Garfield is gifted at tapping into the focused, polite intensity of certain young men—you saw it in The Social Network, and you saw it when he played Spider-Man. (You should have seen it in last year’s 99 Homes, but no one saw that movie.) He’s found a great fit for his talents in Hacksaw Ridge, which asks him to be a sweet Virginia boy courting a sweet nurse (Teresa Palmer, doing what she can while playing a prop) and then a shell-shocked but determined man of valor in a lunar hellscape. Gosh, do we root for this kid, Garfield easing us into all this fervor with a millennial, contemporary decency that Mel Gibson could never achieve on his own.
Who else is in the movie? Oh, a bunch of Australian actors. Several Sydney Theatre Company seasons worth of Australian actors. We’ve got Hugo Weaving and Rachel Griffiths as Doss’s worried parents. (Weaving is doing a little Tennessee Williams play on his own, with his gummy accent and brown-liquor swilling. Former S.T.C. artistic director Cate Blanchett would be so proud!) We’ve got Sam Worthington and Luke Bracey as fellow soldiers. (I actually really enjoy both of their performances, even Bracey’s New Yawk accent.) We’ve got Palmer and Australian stage royalty Richard Roxburgh. Representing the Americans is Vince Vaughn, of all people, who turns a jokey drill sergeant into a serious man of action when the film shifts tones midway through. It’s a strong cast, even though just about everyone is miscast.
