John Huston must know, equally, how great and how damn flawed man can be. A lot of his films- some might say the bulk of his oeuvre- focuses on this, from The Treasure of the Sierra Madre to Moby Dick. Sometimes, it might seem, a man has both the writhing worm of ambition and promise and the potential for complete failure in a single bound. He excels at this, not because he has to but because he needs to tell these stories of men like this - his heroes were manly male stories by the likes of Melville, Kipling, Hemingway and Hammett, but one can also sense the spark of criticism, of questioning what makes such men the way they are. The Man Who Would be King is no exception, and may be the pinnacle of such a tale, where we see two men, formerly failed soldiers, make themselves into the rulers of a nothing country right off of Afghanistan in the 19th century - one of them becomes a God by luck (or destiny) - and how it eventually ruins them.
Whether Huston's film, by way of Kipling's story, is meant as a cautionary tale or a wicked satire (or maybe both), it's still tremendous storytelling, acting, direction and musical composition, etc. In the film, two ex-soldiers of the Royal English Army are in India, Daniel Dravot (Sean Connery) and Peachy Carnahan (Michael Caine). They both tell the impressed if a little doubtful Rudyard Kipling himself, merely a journalist at the time (Christopher Plummer by the way), that they, being pretty much without any real place to go or things to do as disgraced soldiers (lots of crimes such as theft and blackmail), have a plan: to go to Kafiristan, which is a country few know exists and hasn't been inhabited by any kind of real ruler since Alexander the Great. In short, a great place to rule and take charge with their skills as soldiers.
After braving the terrain, in some brief but effective scenes showing how much of a duo Draven and Peachy are in battling the weather and a few stray wanderers, they arrive at the country, which is in shambles, and they train some of the locals to fight their way against their rules (the one guy who is sort of, kinda ruling things wants "Terrible" to follow his name, not "Great" as it were). But somehow Draven stands out - first when he is hit by an arrow and it doesn't hurt him or draw blood (since, yeah, it struck a part of his shield), since this shows that he is automatically King. Next, when the High Priest calls him out, he happens to have around his neck a Free-Mason symbol, which sets off the High Priest to declare him a God (since, well, it's the same image as on a tablet or something). For all of the riches now at Draven's disposal, over a short period of time - that is, he really starts to like the idea of this God thing, when before he was on par with Peachy, a tough and smart and witty entrepreneur. No Guts, No Glory, I guess.
This is the sort of story that reads interesting and raises questions about Colonialization and worship in general. On the screen, when delivered by a director who lets the backdrops of the mountains and hordes of middle-eastern mountain people, and the glorious acting of Connery (I might say at a career high here) and Caine (who is no slacker either, certainly when he realizes how crazy Draven has become), it becomes something to behold. The dialog is one thing that sticks out as particularly clever and intelligent; the script could easily fall into some kind of delirious or ridiculous swashbuckler story, or even something that praises what they're doing. But Huston and his co- writer's script give these characters smart things to say, things that people like these British officers with carte blanche, as well as their go-between guy who translates for them, would say in this unlikely cinematic situation. Like other Huston films ala 'Falcon' and 'Sierra Madre', it's very quotable.
The themes are very potent, and not dumbed down or so sensational that they become incredulous. Huston and Kipling draw upon the history of man's ability to overcome obstacles, be it climbing a mountain or training a small army or becoming enamored with the responsibility of a God, what the outcome of adventure and ambition does to people. It's significant, for example, that Draven is told about how Alexander the Great picked his wife from this region when he ruled, and so he decides he must take a wife and bear a son for future rulers, even as it's spoken that women fear being chosen to become the wife of a God since they'll burn up in flames. Things like that, or how simple a small group of monks can stop an entire battle with everyone bowing in heed. It's remarkable how astute the commentary is in the film, while at the same time not detracting from the action or the power of the performances.
The Man Who Would be King is elegant and harsh, with a beautiful and harrowing Maurice Jarre score (if not as iconic still as fantastic as Lawrence of Arabia for him), and memorable for its star power and how its story is really about something. It's also a grandly British story, of guys who sing traditional songs when they're bored or near death) and joke when they can and are so likable for how they just go for broke. That's one other thing: these guys are never so distasteful as to be hated, and even their 'scheme' is sort of endearing because of everything they go through to get to Kafiristan. There's a reason at the end Kipling stands mouth agape instead of reaching for his gun; in spite of everything these guys are truly, painfully human.
Whether Huston's film, by way of Kipling's story, is meant as a cautionary tale or a wicked satire (or maybe both), it's still tremendous storytelling, acting, direction and musical composition, etc. In the film, two ex-soldiers of the Royal English Army are in India, Daniel Dravot (Sean Connery) and Peachy Carnahan (Michael Caine). They both tell the impressed if a little doubtful Rudyard Kipling himself, merely a journalist at the time (Christopher Plummer by the way), that they, being pretty much without any real place to go or things to do as disgraced soldiers (lots of crimes such as theft and blackmail), have a plan: to go to Kafiristan, which is a country few know exists and hasn't been inhabited by any kind of real ruler since Alexander the Great. In short, a great place to rule and take charge with their skills as soldiers.
After braving the terrain, in some brief but effective scenes showing how much of a duo Draven and Peachy are in battling the weather and a few stray wanderers, they arrive at the country, which is in shambles, and they train some of the locals to fight their way against their rules (the one guy who is sort of, kinda ruling things wants "Terrible" to follow his name, not "Great" as it were). But somehow Draven stands out - first when he is hit by an arrow and it doesn't hurt him or draw blood (since, yeah, it struck a part of his shield), since this shows that he is automatically King. Next, when the High Priest calls him out, he happens to have around his neck a Free-Mason symbol, which sets off the High Priest to declare him a God (since, well, it's the same image as on a tablet or something). For all of the riches now at Draven's disposal, over a short period of time - that is, he really starts to like the idea of this God thing, when before he was on par with Peachy, a tough and smart and witty entrepreneur. No Guts, No Glory, I guess.
This is the sort of story that reads interesting and raises questions about Colonialization and worship in general. On the screen, when delivered by a director who lets the backdrops of the mountains and hordes of middle-eastern mountain people, and the glorious acting of Connery (I might say at a career high here) and Caine (who is no slacker either, certainly when he realizes how crazy Draven has become), it becomes something to behold. The dialog is one thing that sticks out as particularly clever and intelligent; the script could easily fall into some kind of delirious or ridiculous swashbuckler story, or even something that praises what they're doing. But Huston and his co- writer's script give these characters smart things to say, things that people like these British officers with carte blanche, as well as their go-between guy who translates for them, would say in this unlikely cinematic situation. Like other Huston films ala 'Falcon' and 'Sierra Madre', it's very quotable.
The themes are very potent, and not dumbed down or so sensational that they become incredulous. Huston and Kipling draw upon the history of man's ability to overcome obstacles, be it climbing a mountain or training a small army or becoming enamored with the responsibility of a God, what the outcome of adventure and ambition does to people. It's significant, for example, that Draven is told about how Alexander the Great picked his wife from this region when he ruled, and so he decides he must take a wife and bear a son for future rulers, even as it's spoken that women fear being chosen to become the wife of a God since they'll burn up in flames. Things like that, or how simple a small group of monks can stop an entire battle with everyone bowing in heed. It's remarkable how astute the commentary is in the film, while at the same time not detracting from the action or the power of the performances.
The Man Who Would be King is elegant and harsh, with a beautiful and harrowing Maurice Jarre score (if not as iconic still as fantastic as Lawrence of Arabia for him), and memorable for its star power and how its story is really about something. It's also a grandly British story, of guys who sing traditional songs when they're bored or near death) and joke when they can and are so likable for how they just go for broke. That's one other thing: these guys are never so distasteful as to be hated, and even their 'scheme' is sort of endearing because of everything they go through to get to Kafiristan. There's a reason at the end Kipling stands mouth agape instead of reaching for his gun; in spite of everything these guys are truly, painfully human.