Sometimes a Good Notion

Catch of the Day: Fresh Air Francis Ford Coppola

I was fortunate enough to catch this bit last night on my drive home from the Airport.   Coppola had his latest film premiere @ Toronto and did a question and answer session. It’s mostly memories and tales from old productions but it makes for good listening.

http://www.npr.org/v2/?i=140870590&m=142506207&t=audio

They also make reference to a moment at the end of Apocalypse Now and the development of one of the finest film monologues ever written.

                                        KURTZ
                         I've seem horrors.  Horrors that
                         you've seen.  But you have no right
                         to call me a murderer.  You have a
                         right to kill me.  You have a right
                         to do that.  But you have no right
                         to judge me.

                         It's impossible for words to
                         describe what is necessary to those
                         who do not know what horror means.
                         Horror.  Horror has a face.  And
                         you must make a friend of horror.
                         Horror and moral terror are your
                         friends.  If they are not, then
                         they are enemies to be feared.
                         They are truly enemies.

                         I remember when I was with Special
                         Forces.  Seems a thousand centuries
                         ago.  We went into a camp to
                         inoculate some children.  We'd
                         left the camp after we had
                         inoculated the children for polio.
                         And this old man came running after
                         us, and he was crying.  He couldn't
                         say.  We went back there, and they
                         had come and hacked off every
                         inoculated arm.  There they were,
                         in a pile.  A pile of little arms.
                         And, I remember, I cried, I wept
                         like some grandmother.  I wanted
                         to tear my teeth out.  I didn't
                         know what I wanted to do.  And I
                         want to remember it.  I never want
                         to forget it.  I never want to
                         forget it.  And then I realized,
                         like I was shot, like I was shot
                         with a diamond bullet through my
                         forehead.  And I thought, My God,
                         the genius of that!  The genius.
                         The will to do that.  Perfect,
                         genuine, complete, crystalline,
                         pure.  And then I realized, they
                         were stronger than we.  Because
                         they could stand it.  These were
                         not monsters.  These were men,
                         strained cadres.  These men who
                         fought with their hearts, who have
                         families, who have children, who
                         are filled with love...that they
                         had the strength, the strength to
                         do that.  If I had ten divisions
                         of those men, then our troubles
                         here would be over very quickly.
                         You have to have men who are moral,
                         and at the same time, who are able
                         to utilize their primordial
                         instincts to kill without feeling,
                         without passion.  Without judgment.
                         Without Judgment.  Because it's
                         judgment  that defeats us.

                         I worry that my son might not
                         understand what I've tried to be.
                         And if I were to be killed, Willard,
                         I would want someone to go to my
                         home and tell my son everything...

                         Everything I did.  Everything you
                         saw.  Because there's nothing I
                         detest more than the stench of
                         lies.  And if you understand me,
                         Willard, you will do this for me.

Limelight

Calvero: I also hate the sight of blood, but it’s in my veins. 

The film is also dramatic. It deals with suicide, death, and failure. Long gone are the days of the Tramp. Chaplin however uses similar techniques as in his earlier successes to create the comedy in Limelight.  Chaplin’s Tramp was about contrast.  He was a bum who was also elegant and refined. He’ll eat his boot but he’ll do it with class. It was this game between the reality of poverty and the uselessness of manners that allowed Chaplin to offer his most poignant critiques and create brilliant comedic moments.   In Limelight the contrasts are between Clown and Ballerina.  Terry, played by the gorgeous Clair Bloom, is young and delicate.  Calvero is the polar opposite (Chaplin was 63 when the film was made). It goes beyond age and looks though, her disposition as someone who is so willing to give everything up despite her opportunities makes Calvero’s desperation to cling onto life all the more meaningful, funny, and touching.