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Nine Hours to Rama ~ (1963) The Death of Ghandi

2/3/2016

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I'll start off this review of the 1963 British film 9 HOURS TO RAMA with a caveat of sorts. I have not generally minded, in a general sense anyway, the casting of white people as other races. The farther back you go in American (read: western) film, the more it's to be expected; human culture is made up of humans, and by their very nature, humans are tribalistic...and therefore more inclined to favor their own.  Some of these generally unfortunate casting choices I am quite fond of. Peter Lorre as Mr. Moto is a hero of mine, and Warner Oland in his classic role as Charlie Chan, strangely, is (in my opinion) impossible to improve upon by anyone...regardless of race.

I have to admit, having written that, that Horst Buchholz (a German guy), Jose Ferrer (from Puerto Rico) and Robert Morley as Indian people (especially the extremely British Robert Morley), threw me off at first. Horst had pulled off a Mexican pretty well in THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, but his role here as an Indian guy, initially at least, burned my eyes a bit. I did give it a chance though, as the location and subject matter are dear to me; I've been to Pakistan and India (India as recently as a year ago), and to see a film in this setting is totally my cup of darjeeling.


Based on the 1962 novel by Stanley Wolpert, It's setting is the period of transition from the 200-year yoke of British rule in India to independence, and perhaps tragically, the partition of the northwest into the modern state of Pakistan. Ghandi-ji ("ji", in Hindi and Urdu, is an honorific title of respect added to Indian names) has done his legendary work, and the land is in turmoil. This is basically the story of the end of Ghandi-ji's life, and more specifically, the story of his murderer, the anti-Muslim Hindu nationalist Nathuram Vinayak Godse, energetically played by Horst Buchholz.

Here's a nutshell, non-spoiler synopsis:

It's a period of fear for Ghandi-ji's life at this stage. Superintendant Das, played by Jose Ferrer, is under pressure to keep Ghandi-ji safe; that means interrogations and arrests. On top of that, Ghandi-ji refuses to take added measures to keep himself out of harm's way, which, in his mind, would distance himself from the people. The heat is on, so to speak. Buchholz's character, Nadsuram Godse, is a lost young man without a real purpose in his life; a disappointment to his father, he is looking for meaning wherever he can find it. Unfortunately he lacks the intelligence and self-awareness to get what he wants. His failures are a constant source of frustration to him, until his addled mind comes to a conclusion...that, in spite of the stalwart efforts of Ferrar's Superintendant Das, Ghandi-ji must die.

It seems to be the way of the world, then, as now.

Overall, I found this film fascinating and well done. Buchholz overdoes the 'wild-eyed young man' thing a bit, but I thought it was within acceptable parameters. Ferrar was the rock during the whole thing. His gravitas carried the story along where a lesser presence might have failed, and if I'm being honest, he passed as a Desi guy pretty well, in spite of actually being originally from Puerto Rico (Desi is a catch-all term for people from Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, etc.). He reminded me a great deal of my friend and former landlord Munir, who is not without a good chunk of gravitas himself.  Indian actor & writer J. S. Casshyap, who played Ghandi-ji, was absolutely stunning.  He was almost like a photo come to life, and he radiated the kind of goodness that made Ghandi-ji one of the great heroes and role models of modern times. A few times I even had to remind myself that he wasn't actually the real Ghandi!

The film does a great job of giving us the feeling of that period. Filmed in various locations in India, it showed the colourful, crowded streets, the dazzling hodgepodge of cultural types, with some fantastic music (any film that starts with a Thani Avartam, which is a South Indian drum solo, gets my attention right away; there were the South Indian drums Mridangam ;double-headed barrel drum], the Kanjira [small frame drum] & Ghatam [clay pot drum], along with the unlikely addition of the north Indian Tabla), and a feeling of change that comes off as palpable and dramatic.  Speaking of starts, btw,  NINE HOURS TO RAMA has possibly the most excellent titles known to cinema,  period.  there is as much drama in the titles alone as the average movie has in total...very interesting and captivating.

Fans of British empire films, Indian cinema and solid drama should really try to see this. It's fantastic, and it tells a story that many people, Americans at least, know little about.


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When Eight Bells Toll (1971)  Anthony Hopkins...super spy

1/17/2016

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Anthony Hopkins,  over his long and varied career, has greatly earned my respect.  I am, of course, a fan of his gleefully mad Hannibal Lecter in THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, but from a Phantom Empires point of view, that's a fundamentally assumed opinion applied to most of the free world.  That said, it's the other stuff,  much of it gone unnoticed, that really sparks me. I'm a big fan of his film bits in HOWARD'S END, in THE REMAINS OF THE DAY, and also in the charmingly sentimental  SPOTSWOOD (from 1992, otherwise known as THE EFFICIENCY EXPERT).  On the smaller screen, the UK TV universe has been wonderful for him and his acting chops. His version of UNCLE VANYA is amazing, he was hypnotic in THE EDWARDIANS,  and the mini-series WAR AND PEACE is wonderful as well.  He tore up the telly in the 1975 film version of James Herriot's ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL (alongside Simon Ward), and also in what may be his most interesting role, as the apostle Paul in the network mini-series PETER AND PAUL (backed by a great cast: Eddie Albert, Robert Foxworth, Raymond Burr, Jose Ferrer and Herbert Lom).  In my book, other than his more recent late-career work (the apocalyptically awful  Zorro thing, the nearly zombie-like stint in the 'Silence' sequel and other such mishaps),  he's always worth a watch.

In this context,  the 1971 film WHEN EIGHT BELLS TOLL is a bit of an oddball curio.  Based on a book by Scottish adventure writer Alistair MacLean,  it's a bit of a spy/action/suspense/adventure along the lines of  Jason Bourne, with a hint of James Bond here and there.  I had watched a bit of the beginning on Youtube, with Hopkins sneaking around an enemy ship in a wetsuit, and I digitally nabbed it right away.  Based on what these elements conjured up,  I was pretty excited.  

Sadly, though not too bad as a colourful minor effort, it falls flat in most ways.

Hopkins plays Navy man/treasury agent Phillip Calvert,  an apparently capable and qualified chap,  called to an office somewhere in "the government".  He's a bit of a lower class bloke,  especially in the toffee-nosed opinion of Whitehall nob Sir Arthur Arnford-Jones (played with google-eyed pizazz by the [more than usually] rotund Robert Morley).  It seems that there have been robberies of gold shipments recently (apparently the government ships gold bars without commando guards in this universe),  and Calvert MUST get to the bottom of it.  Bring on the fights,  castles,  some lovely rustic scenery (the story is set in Scotland),  lovelier ladies,  snobbery,  lots of  yummy gold bars,  and, wait for it,  a helicopter!

Sound good?  Well,  it's not bad.  Not all that particularly good,  but not too bad either.  

I was going to include this in a post titled THREE FAN-TASTIC 70'S FILMS THAT YOU'VE NOT HEARD OF,  but it wasn't fantastic enough.  The pacing is strange,  the plot wanders about like old people in a shopping mall,   and after a bit I wasn't sure I remembered what was happening and why.  It is worth it's own review spot,  though,  if only as such an obscure Hopkins attempt at the spy genre.  He's the vastly most appealing part of the story, even with his characteristic emotionalism and soft-spoken intensity slowed down to a stroll.  I'm not sure, but aside from Hannibal the Cannibal, I don't think that I've ever seen Hopkins kill someone in a movie before.  Well, in WHEN EIGHT BELLS TOLL he kills quite a few.  He spends half the film running around offing baddies with machine guns, pistols, grenades, hand to hand combat,  and if I remember correctly,  a drowning!  All done with the customary restrained Anthony Hopkins gusto.  I do think that it should be seen,  if only for the sake of a fuller experience of the Hopkins canon.

One thing is pretty clear;  James Bond and Jason Bourne's spots in spy film history were never under any sort of serious threat.

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