Ravenous
Rated R
Now showing
http://www.foxmovies.com/ravenous/
Ravenous opens with the words
of Nietzsche: "He that fights with monsters should look
to himself that he does not become a monster." The next
quote is anonymous: "Eat me." Initially, this brief line
seems designed only for cheap laughs (which it gets), but
as the picture continues, it takes on a greater significance.
Instead of another stupid insult, "Eat me" becomes a sexual
plea.
The juxtaposition of these quotes is only the beginning
of what is one of the strangest mainstream/art house/period
piece/monster movies to come out in quite some time. More
Roman Polanski's The Fearless Vampire Killers than
Frank Marshall's Alive, Ravenous mixes dramatic
tones, genres, messages and moralities into a curious
pastiche. This fascinating and entertaining portrait of
cannibalism is not simply about the choice between eating
and not eating; it's about deviating or not deviating.
A twist on the familiar film territory of the vampire
legend, Ravenous is seen through the traumatized
eyes of John Boyd (Guy Pearce), a cowardly military captain
who's banished to a desolate mountain outpost in California
during the Mexican-American War. There Boyd joins an eclectic
group of wartime weirdos that includes a geeky emissary
to the Lord, a drunken doctor, an alpha-male soldier and
a drug-addled cook.
Soon after Boyd's arrival, a wild-eyed, half-dead Scotsman
named Colqhoun (Robert Carlyle) stumbles down from mountains.
Colqhoun relays a horrific account of being snowbound
with a group of settlers (the infamous Donner Party) who,
in order to survive, resorted to eating each other. From
this experience, the expedition's leader, Colonel Ives,
acquired a blood lust so strong he began preying on the
group's surviving members. On hearing Colqhoun's story,
commanding officer Hart (wonderfully played by a droll
Jeffrey Jones) organizes a search party to find the evil
Ives. But the troop discovers that the object of its search
is none other than Colqhoun, and with glorious gore, terror
and humor, the Scotsman attacks the group.
Boyd eventually makes it back to the post, but he is
horror-struck--he has been forced to eat human flesh to
survive. Colqhoun also returns, this time in the guise
of Colonel Ives, and immediately continues his wanton
ways while attempting to bring Boyd into his flesh-eating
fold.
Like so many vampire films before it, Ravenous
examines (via the Native-American myth of Weendigo) the
lust of consumption. Like the bloodsucker, the more the
cannibal feasts, the stronger and more insatiable he becomes.
And, as is the case with previous vampire pictures, Ravenous
has an intriguing homosexual subtext. The sexuality of
these characters would no doubt have been brought to the
forefrontwere it not for the mainstream target audience.
There is a striking sexual chemistry between the somber
Boyd and the rakish Colqhoun that has to be intentional
on the part of the director. There are just too many clues.
And though the ideas of Manifest Destiny, religion and
wartime morality run discursively throughout the picture,
Ravenous offers a more intriguing metaphor in pitting
the smart, funny and sexy cannibal against the hypocrisy
of the straight establishment.
Though he would be viewed as an animal in "polite" society,
Colqhoun is actually the most refined of the outpost's
troop. When disguised as Ives, he is a flawless dandy,
with perfectly coiffed hair, a curled mustache and stylish
clothes.
In another scene, when Colqhoun spies two military officials
and a Native-American female guide nearing the post, he
says to himself, "Breakfast, lunch and reinforcement,"
with "reinforcement" referring to the woman. Only men
can be his food.
The final bang (gangbang?) in Ravenous comes in
the fantastic closing sequence of lusty bloodletting between
Colqhoun and Boyd. The scene is so incredibly homoerotic
that the female guide, who feels out of place, simply
ups and leaves. The men's extensive fighting is shot like
a rake's pursuit of a supposedly chaste maiden. With gorgeous
intensity and heaving bosoms, Colqhoun and Boyd tussle
and tussle. It's a bizarre and bloody turn-on.
Using monsters as a metaphor for homosexuality always
runs the risk of offending someone, and Ravenous
will certainly put off those who think the picture depicts
outsiders as deviants who must die. But due to the excellent
performance by Carlyle, Colqhoun can be seen as a heroic
outlaw, who, in a world of hypocrites, could very well--and
this gives nothing away--die for his desires.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Willamette Week | originally
published March 24,
1999
|
