reiher@ucla-cs.UUCP (01/29/85)
"1984" can immediately join the ranks of the great horror
movies. Other films may have made me jump in my seat, but almost
nothing else I have seen was quite as frightening in a deeper
sense. To most of us, particularly those who haven't read the
book, "1984" is a tired and implausible cliche. The new film
version makes it spring to horrid, terrifying life. "1984" is a
monster movie. The monster is the beast hidden inside every form
of government, a beast which not only wants to control man's
every act, but even his every thought. Some governments have the
beast better under control than others, but none are without it,
and this is George Orwell's warning. Michael Radford's film ver-
sion brings the beast out into the open and shows us its hideous
face close up and completely unmasked. "1984" is a rare achieve-
ment, a film that really can make you think.
Orwell's story is so well known that I will only sketch its
outlines. "1984" is set in a world of perpetual war, where the
government uses two-way screens to monitor its citizens and
changes language and history for its own purpose. Winston Smith
(John Hurt), a minor official in Oceana's Bureau of History,
finds himself drawn first into thoughtcrime, then into sexcrime.
He and his lover know they will eventually be caught, but can't
help themselves. Eventually they are caught, and Smith is tor-
tured and reprogrammed to think correctly.
Michael Radford, who wrote the screenplay in addition to
directing, has done a superb job of bringing the nightmare world
of "1984" to life. It is a world of shortages which may be real
and which may be created, of mutable truth whose purpose is to
destroy memory, of betrayal so ubiquitous that its occurrence is
expected - the only possibility for surprise is its source.
"1984" displays a world intentionally made poor, uncomfortable,
dirty, and treacherous. Radford and his production team have
visualized this world beautifully. There is no shining chrome or
futuristic equipment. The streets resemble London after the
Blitz, the interiors are drab and filthy. Even the viewing
screens are shoddy. To match the oppressive atmosphere of the
sets and lighting, Radford employs a slow, deliberate pacing
which itself promises disaster to come.
The performances are excellent. John Hurt, as has been men-
tioned elsewhere, is almost too perfectly cast as Winston Smith.
Hurt, living up to his name, has practically made an entire film
career based on pain and suffering. He's played a long line of
sadists, masochists, victims, and villains. Winston Smith,
doomed from the beginning to torture, humiliation, and a final
denial of self, is so firmly in the pattern that Hurt could have
wound up almost as a caricature. Hurt underplays the role very
nicely, though, and shows us Smith's moments of happiness which
he believes will make up for the suffering to come. When the
agony proves so great that he is willing, even eager to deny and
betray anything, the memory of his mistaken belief adds an extra
touch of poignance. Suzanna Hamilton is also fine as Smith's
lover. Her sensuality is at sharp contrast to the bleak world
around her, so that she seems to be the only living creature in
it.
"1984" contains Richard Burton's last film role. It is com-
mon to overpraise the final roles of great actors, especially
when posthumous. There is no such danger here, as Burton cannot
be overpraised for this portrayal. His role as O'Brien, Hurt's
inquisitor, is key to the success of the second half of the film.
Burton was simultaneous the most mythic and most human of actors.
His flaws and his genius were always on full display for all to
see. Thus, his brilliant portrayal of a man dedicated to the
abolition of both humanity and mythology in favor of bland,
unquestioning obedience is particularly disturbing. If "1984" is
a horror film, then O'Brien is its monster, or at least its
monster's avatar. Burton is absolutely terrifying as a man who
will do anything to force conformity to the system. The underly-
ing suggestion that this monster was created by the same process
he now employs adds even more to the terror. The calm, reason-
able, almost sympathetic way he destroys Winston Smith has the
dreadful feel of a routine performed day in and day out. I have
not seen a better performance this year.
The last few minutes of "1984" are particularly harrowing.
Radford leads us to the brink of the smallest glimmer of hope,
but leaves us only with maddeningly ambiguous signs. We want to
believe that all is not desolation, and the possibility that
something may be salvaged is not entirely ruled out, but Radford
makes it almost impossible to believe that Big Brother's triumph
is less than absolute. The glints of hope which almost certainly
are illusory prove much more devastating than the stygian dark-
ness of utter despair.
"1984" is one of the most depressing films I have ever seen.
It is also one of the most perfect. Perfection is not all in
art, but when coupled with vision, it can lead to works of in-
credible power. "1984" is such a work. It is not for those who
demand "a good time" from a film, or for those who do not want to
think in the movies, or for those who are satisfied with nothing
but a happy ending. Those expecting something more from a film,
those not afraid to face up to the true dark side of human
behavior (for governments' evil desires come from within us, not
from some mystic outside force), those willing to face the logi-
cal conclusions of hopeless situations, will appreciate "1984"
and perhaps, hopefully, learn from it.
--
Peter Reiher
reiher@ucla-cs.arpa
{...ihnp4,ucbvax,sdcrdcf}!ucla-cs!reiher