I saw "Witness" in 1985 in a small town in Oregon. At the time I was enamored of director Peter Weir's work, "The Last Wave," "Gallipoli," "The Year of Living Dangerously." Of late, I'm being drawn more and more into independent filmmaking, and I thought "Witness" might be a good one to screen again, because as I remember it, it had minimal locations, most of them in a rural Amish community.
The setup is bloody brilliant – a 10-year-old Amish boy witnesses a grizzly murder in a train station bathroom.
But the plot begins to unravel immediately when Detective John Book (Harrison Ford) wheels and deals with witness rights and protection – forcing Amish mother Rachel (Kelly McGillis) and her son Samuel (Lucas Haas) to ride to a bar to identify a potential suspect. He leaves them alone in the police car in a ghetto while he goes inside to roughhouse his pick of the week for a fall guy!
Book's investigation continues in like manner for the first act of the film, demolishing any suspension of disbelief. That, and inexplicably bad acting on the part of the bad cop cast, invite comparison to a TV cop show at its worst, talented actors notwithstanding.
There was however, an exceptional reveal in Act I: Samuel's identification of the murderer is brilliantly staged.
Unfortunately, the bad cop setup telegraphs a violent finale, completely wrecking the film's premise – how do you protect the innocent and vulnerable in a community that embraces nonviolence? This is an extremely exciting, groundbreaking idea. To place an Amish kid as the key witness of a grizzly murder – these are ingredients for a powerful, game changing film.
How are the members of the Amish community going to handle the introduction of guns, a law enforcement system dependent on violence, men who are conditioned to find a violent solution – how will the Amish "disarm" this invasion without violating its sacred mission?
99% of the general population are dependent upon and conditioned to violence as a solution to violent crime. This story has seeds of extraordinary promise to explore another paradigm.
Alas, the Hollywood machine really made a mess of this one.
Book is healed of a gunshot wound by means of Amish medicinal practice; he gives up his gun and ammo to his Amish hostess; he pitches in to help with a communal barn-raising in a scene that is a small miracle, showing the capacity of a community to accomplish substantial things in just one day.
Book recognizes the possibility of mutual physical bonding with Rachel, his own sexual needs, as well as hers. He turns away from the temptation to violate the Amish code. At this point it is a heroic action. However, this plot point unravels when they do consummate at a later time.
Having shown Book as a man of roughshod integrity, one would hope he has enough chutzpah to honor his hosts. He has the opportunity to prepare himself in a soul-searching manner for the inevitable show down. How do you serve and protect in the Amish way?
When the police department goons show up determined to exterminate the witness and his family, the film descends into the same old same old (sic) showdown at the OK Corral. Hollywood loves this stuff, and, based on box office receipts, so do audiences.
To be fair, Book does choose one ingenious tactic when he improvises the use of corn in a silo as a defensive weapon.
There is a very real temptation to argue (and Hollywood did and won) that the lone town marshal pitted against 3 heavily armed outlaws-made-more-outlawish-by-being-lawmen requires a shoot 'em up conclusion. That works for Tombstone in 1881, but is it necessary in this Amish community of 1985? Does not their faith have more power than the gun?
The issue of guns and violence was volatile in '85, and has grown increasingly contentious and dangerous in 2014. This film missed the opportunity to explore authentically the interaction of two distinct American cultures in the Heartland.
It is heartbreaking to consider the horrific consequences suffered by the dominant culture's near complete lack of will to examine or act on gun control. That Mr. Weir agreed to direct this mishmash without challenging our 2nd Amendment preconceptions is, in my opinion, tragic.
Of course it will take a great deal more than a single film to bring change of this caliber in our American life. Had Mr. Weir and Mr. Harrison brought their considerable talents to bear on the subject, the conversation and the legislation today might be a good deal more reasonable and civilized.
The setup is bloody brilliant – a 10-year-old Amish boy witnesses a grizzly murder in a train station bathroom.
But the plot begins to unravel immediately when Detective John Book (Harrison Ford) wheels and deals with witness rights and protection – forcing Amish mother Rachel (Kelly McGillis) and her son Samuel (Lucas Haas) to ride to a bar to identify a potential suspect. He leaves them alone in the police car in a ghetto while he goes inside to roughhouse his pick of the week for a fall guy!
Book's investigation continues in like manner for the first act of the film, demolishing any suspension of disbelief. That, and inexplicably bad acting on the part of the bad cop cast, invite comparison to a TV cop show at its worst, talented actors notwithstanding.
There was however, an exceptional reveal in Act I: Samuel's identification of the murderer is brilliantly staged.
Unfortunately, the bad cop setup telegraphs a violent finale, completely wrecking the film's premise – how do you protect the innocent and vulnerable in a community that embraces nonviolence? This is an extremely exciting, groundbreaking idea. To place an Amish kid as the key witness of a grizzly murder – these are ingredients for a powerful, game changing film.
How are the members of the Amish community going to handle the introduction of guns, a law enforcement system dependent on violence, men who are conditioned to find a violent solution – how will the Amish "disarm" this invasion without violating its sacred mission?
99% of the general population are dependent upon and conditioned to violence as a solution to violent crime. This story has seeds of extraordinary promise to explore another paradigm.
Alas, the Hollywood machine really made a mess of this one.
Book is healed of a gunshot wound by means of Amish medicinal practice; he gives up his gun and ammo to his Amish hostess; he pitches in to help with a communal barn-raising in a scene that is a small miracle, showing the capacity of a community to accomplish substantial things in just one day.
Book recognizes the possibility of mutual physical bonding with Rachel, his own sexual needs, as well as hers. He turns away from the temptation to violate the Amish code. At this point it is a heroic action. However, this plot point unravels when they do consummate at a later time.
Having shown Book as a man of roughshod integrity, one would hope he has enough chutzpah to honor his hosts. He has the opportunity to prepare himself in a soul-searching manner for the inevitable show down. How do you serve and protect in the Amish way?
When the police department goons show up determined to exterminate the witness and his family, the film descends into the same old same old (sic) showdown at the OK Corral. Hollywood loves this stuff, and, based on box office receipts, so do audiences.
To be fair, Book does choose one ingenious tactic when he improvises the use of corn in a silo as a defensive weapon.
There is a very real temptation to argue (and Hollywood did and won) that the lone town marshal pitted against 3 heavily armed outlaws-made-more-outlawish-by-being-lawmen requires a shoot 'em up conclusion. That works for Tombstone in 1881, but is it necessary in this Amish community of 1985? Does not their faith have more power than the gun?
The issue of guns and violence was volatile in '85, and has grown increasingly contentious and dangerous in 2014. This film missed the opportunity to explore authentically the interaction of two distinct American cultures in the Heartland.
It is heartbreaking to consider the horrific consequences suffered by the dominant culture's near complete lack of will to examine or act on gun control. That Mr. Weir agreed to direct this mishmash without challenging our 2nd Amendment preconceptions is, in my opinion, tragic.
Of course it will take a great deal more than a single film to bring change of this caliber in our American life. Had Mr. Weir and Mr. Harrison brought their considerable talents to bear on the subject, the conversation and the legislation today might be a good deal more reasonable and civilized.