apocalypto

THE FLICK: It’s always exciting to bear witness to that unique Hollywood phenomenon of directorial carte blanche; when a filmmaker has earned enough street cred or box-office mojo to do whatever they hell they want with no studio interference. More often than not the project emerges impossibly flawed (any of M. Knight Shyamalan’s films post-Sixth Sense, for example), embarrassingly self-indulgent (Tarantino’s Death Proof segment of Grindhouse, to a tee) or off-the-mark anti-climactic (Bryan Singer’s recent Superman redux). But there’s something about all those films that is still eminently “watchable.” They’re the product of filmmakers freed of the usual fiscal responsibilities; no fear of script notes, no test audience peer pressure. So even if they crash and burn, they’re putting something up on the screen that a studio pawn like Brett Ratner never will: the unexpected. After earning more money than God with The Passion of the Christ, Mel Gibson decided to stay independent, producing and directing Apocalypto on his own dime once again, purportedly because no studio would finance a film about the decline of the Mayan empire, spoken entirely in subtitles with a cast of complete unknowns. Bullshit! Mel Gibson could have pitched a movie with sock puppets screaming racial epithets and someone would have given him the money. It’s obvious Mel was spoiled by not having to work for “the man,” choosing to bet the bank again on another solo effort to allow for complete creative control. The irony is Apocalypto isn’t that much different from most Hollywood product. Take away the language barrier and we’re essentially watching Conan set in a South American jungle. Our lead character, Jaguar Paw (Rudy Youngblood), watches his village destroyed, his father killed, his friends sold into slavery and his fellow warriors sacrificed in an ancient Mayan ritual. All this culminates in a cathartic 40-minute chase sequence as Jaguar Paw escapes his captors and races back to rescue the pregnant wife and young child he’s squirreled away in a cavern. Change the genre to sci-fi and you’ve got yourself a James Cameron blockbuster right there! Gibson’s taste in projects may seem exotic on the surface, but his execution is clearly mainstream. Even his penchant for gore, which Apocalypto pushes to even greater extremes, fits neatly in the American diet. For most of its running time, the film sets up a social commentary along with the torture and degradation. The moral decline of the Mayan empire is presented is broad strokes – a culture of decadence and moral decay with a ruling class that ignores, neglects or simply rids themselves of unwanted members of society. The contrast with Jaguar Paw’s simple patriarchal village couldn’t be clearer. However, as well-intentioned as all that is, Apocalypto really only gets moving in the third act, where Jaguar Paw uses his knowledge of the jungle to take out his captors one-by-one. Gibson proves he’s picked up more than a few tricks from George Miller and the myriad of other action directors he’s worked with, staging an exhausting pursuit that includes quicksand, poison frogs, beehives and the ubiquitous giant waterfall. After all the innocent blood spilled in the first three-quarters of the film, you’ll find yourself cheering on Jaguar Paw’s righteous bloodlust with an uncomfortable amount of gusto. THE FEATURES: On Blu-ray from Buena Vista, the photography in Apocalypto might look even a shade better than what I saw in the theater. Deep green foliage, immense cityscapes and jungle treks by torchlight all look superb. The soundtrack is exceedingly immersive as well, making excellent use of bird calls and monkey howls in the surround channels. Extras include a rather business-like feature commentary from Gibson and writer/co-producer Farhad Safinia, one very brief deleted scene (with optional commentary) and a featurette Becoming Mayan: Making Apocalypto.