Movie: The Abyss (James Cameron, 1989)
An estranged couple re-ignites their love engaging in shared physical labor and effort; gruff unreconstructed-yet-tenderhearted blue collar ordinary guys survive through their sense of camaraderie and their nuts-and-bolts knowledge of oil rig machinery; in man-to-man combat an oil worker fights a Navy Seal to a standstill, his lack of experience offset by the day to-day demands of his job. The Abyss also contains some of the most spectacular special effects and cinematography I've seen, only made possible by technological advancements James Cameron is more than happy to show off. But not even the shiniest new toys can be a substitute for simple, humane pleasures, like cutting the right wire in a moment of great duress, a chase between two marine vehicles bumping against each other, a triumphant proof of life when all hope seems lost, or just smashing an evil dude's head with a blunt object. And then there are also aliens.
I enjoyed Avatar a lot when it came out, but had no interest in seeing last year's sequel. It's not wrong to call it Pocahontas in Space, but the bigger issue is that it all feels like we are watching a story set in the world's most elaborate screensaver. I think it's incredibly unfortunate that James Cameron has decided to spend the twilight of his career obsessing about Pandora, when he is so great at making giant blockbusters that feel tactile and tangibly set in the real world, even when they engage in completely outrageous sci-fi scenarios. Yes, he doesn't make movies to be subtle, he wants you to notice the money on screen and the effort that went into the production, and to be aware and awed by how much pioneering engineering went into the creation of his movies. But all of that hugeness ultimately serves to put you as much as possible and as directly as possible in the shoes of his characters, both physically and emotionally. The idea that the forces overwhelming the screen should also be overwhelming the audience is of course at the heart of Avatar, but to remember how it's done right Cameron should rewatch at least the resuscitation scene in The Abyss (or all of The Terminator, one of the greatest movies).
The Abyss is multiple blockbusters for the price of one. It follows an underwater oil drilling crew, led by Bud Brigman (Ed Harris), asked to retrieve a sunk American nuclear submarine. They are joined by Bud's ex-wife Lindsey (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio), the chief engineer of their drlling platform. A hurricane, a trigger happy Navy Seal gone rogue, and underwater aliens move the job even further outside of routine territory, forcing the crew to constantly take action agaunst the forces threathening to overwhelm them and to regroup and reassess the situation after each exciting set piece. At one point, Bud and Lindsey get in a tight spot with only one functioning deep sea suit and the only way out is for her to effectively drown herself and have Bud swim with her body to their main sub where she will be reuscitated by the remaining crew. By then, it's become obvious that the two are falling for each other again, to everyone's delight, and when it's time to get her back to life, the entire crew is intensely preparing the defibrilator and watching in great anguish as several attempts fail. All seems lost until a manically angry Bud starts violently hitting her and insulting her as a "stubborn bitch" who chooses the wrong moments to fight. Cameron films all of this in extreme close up, fervently moving the camera around each person on site, barely allowing a moment to breathe until Mastrantonio does.
Mastrantonio waking up immediately became one of my favorite moments of triumphant relief in action cinema, but Bud's behaviour in the scene is absolutely meant to make you feel uncomfortable. Cameron and Harris leave no doubt that Bud's vicious anger, though expressed in despair, towards Lindsey comes from a real place, and is as authentic as his love for her. At the same time, Bud accepts throughout the movie that Lindsey is obviously intellectually superior to him, while also being able to match his physicality every step of the way. The whole thing is a great example of why the notion that James Cameron is a much worse writer than director is misguided. So many major Hollywood movies, in particular action blockbusters, find it really hard to present the unpolished roughness of male heroes, without either resorting to macho posturing or to cleaned up strawmen to correct the course. It probably helps that Cameron himself stands somewhere in the middle between the two. He is a 'my way or the highway' perfectionist who pushed the cast to such inhumane lengths (multiple people almost drowned) while filming The Abyss that Harris (he acts out entire scenes while holding his breath in a water-filled helmet) and Mastrantonio couldn't talk about the film until the 21st Century, while also being a corny humanist pacifist with a genuine interest in putting his money where his mouth is to explore how science can improve the world. It leads to him wrtinng things like "Coffey looks and he sees Russians. He sees hate and fear. You have to look with better eyes than that", and meaning it from the bottom of his heart to the extent he builds his entire film around this idea.
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