Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World

While I like to think of myself as having eclectic taste in film, every once in a while a movie will come along that has zero elements of appeal to me. On the outset, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World seemed like one of those movies. Based on Patrick O'Brian's best-selling novels (which I haven't read), budgeted at $135 million, set in 1805, and featuring an all-male cast (including a bloated Russell Crowe, whose blonde, ponytailed appearance had prompted me to snicker when I first saw the movie's poster), this seafaring epic was hardly on the top of my must-see list during the crowded holiday season. After all, the last film I had seen with similar background details (save for the historical setting) was The Perfect Storm (2000), which was heavy on special effects but utterly lacking in soul (not to mention convincing dialogue).

However, as weeks passed, I began to hear more and more positive things about Master and Commander. Further piquing my interest was the fact that the talented Peter Weir had directed it, and Paul Bettany, who had memorably injected life into the sometimes turgid A Beautiful Mind, was co-starring. And much to my surprise, I found myself not only enjoying the film, but actively appreciating its richly drawn characters, astute historical details, clever plot twists, and yes, dynamic action sequences.

Crowe stars as Jack Aubrey, the firm but good-natured captain of the HMS Surprise, a British Naval ship in pursuit of one of Napoleon's warships off the coast of Brazil. Under his command are nearly 200 men, including the ship's doctor, Stephen Maturin (Bettany). A master tactician and ambitious warrior, Aubrey is also in possession of a keen intellect, and passes many hours in lively debate with Maturin over aspects of science and human nature. Despite occasional disagreements, the two men share a deep mutual respect, and Aubrey even allows the doctor recuperation time in the Galapagos Island, where the scientifically-inclined man eagerly catalogs new species. In between these discussions, however, are expertly staged battle sequences that recreate the sense of fear and exhilaration felt by the enlisted men while also giving Aubrey his due for planning the intricate battle strategies.

In light of all the tabloid headlines about barroom brawls and the surly, outspoken interviews, it's not difficult to forget what a talented actor Crowe is. Yet each time I see one of his films, irregardless of their quality, I am struck by his unusual skill at almost completely subverting his public persona. This is one of the kinder, gentler roles he's had in recent years, but he nevertheless manages to convey the exact mix of sternness, good humor, and assurance that have garnered him the deep respect of his crew. Bettany is equally wonderful as his counterpart, excitedly positing the intellectual ideas that would come to shape the next two centuries.

As for Weir, it's hard to believe that almost thirty years have passed since he worked under almost entirely opposite circumstances, directing Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975). A low budget Australian film featuring a largely female cast and zero action sequences, Picnic is a haunting, hypnotic movie revolving around the disappearance of a group of schoolgirls during a class outing to a nearby mountain. Despite the furious battle sequences on display in Master and Commander, the same strange sense of wonderment that marked the previous film also comes through here, most notably in the Galapagos Island scenes. In those scenes, as well as in Aubrey's speeches, Weir is somehow able render the larger sense of purpose that filled these men's lives, and as a modern viewer, I couldn't help but feeling a bit envious.