Native American

The New World, written and directed by Terrence Malick

Terrence Malick is one of those directors people either love or hate. His movies — this new one especially — are more about poetry than they are about narrative. Long stretches of intense, glorious photography without a single word spoken, and still the story is there.

But it’s not for everybody. The mathematician, who is not so much about the visual as I am, would have fallen asleep. I kept wanting to stop the flow of images so I could study them. Because they are so beautifully framed, and because Malick does such an incredible job of capturing a time and place. The Native American world is rendered with great attention to detail, but it’s the long-shots that really tell their story.

The story of Pocahantas and John Smith has been told many times, most usually trivialized and recast for modern sensibilities. I think there’s some of that here too in the way the young woman’s emotions are portrayed, but in general it seems to me that Malick probably has done the best job so far of approximating what it must have been like for the Englishmen who put foot on what was to be called Virginia in the year 1602. Who John Smith might have been, and how the land and people would have looked to him. Maybe.

I’m wondering how the Native American peoples are reacting to this movie.

Oh yes, the actors: they are very good, but with the exception of the young woman (apparently Q’Orianka Kilcher was just fourteen when the film was being shot) who played Pocahontas, they are almost beside the point. She’s the central character, the one the camera cares about most.

When it comes out on dvd I will rent it and spend a lot of time pausing to look at details, to study shots that right now I can recall with perfect clarity. Whether you should go see it depends on your interest in the subject and your patience with a story told mostly in visual terms.

believable heroes, and the construction thereof

I’ve had two suggestions about characteristics that are non-negotiable in heroes (of course that term is fraught with difficulties, but for the sake of expediency I’ll continue to use it for the moment). From Karen:

How about a rock-solid moral core? The hero can (and probably must) have serious flaws and weaknesses, but some fundamental part of the character, even if deeply buried, needs to recognize right from wrong.

But then there’s Patricia Highsmith’s Ripley — does he count as a hero?

and from Stephanie:

I think a sense of humor is pretty essential. Not that the protagonist has to be wisecracking through his dialog, but he should at least recognize things that are absurd.

I think these are good characteristics to start with as basics (again and always, for me personally, when I’m reading or writing).

A character can have a fairly serious demeanor most of the time and still be capable of playfulness (crucial, in my view). Personally I’m also drawn to a dry sense of humor, which probably follows from the fact that the Mathematician is a Brit. When the Girlchild was about ten, we rented Monty Python’s Holy Grail. She asked him if she could watch it, to which he said: “Can you watch it? You must watch it. It’s your cultural heritage.”

The issue of a moral core is a little more complicated. I think I know what Karen means by “rock-solid moral core” — I know what it means for me, at least. For other people it may mean (it almost certainly does mean) something else. More important, I think the main point for any writer to remember is this:

the fuel that drives any story is conflict, which has to exist both external to the main characters (to move the plot along), and within them (to move the characterization along).

Let me see if I can say that any more clearly. You can have a main character/protagonist/hero who is rock-solid morally, but you have to poke him a little, or there’s no drama. In my own story, Nathaniel has not one set of morals to live by, but two that are very different — one European in its nature, the other Native American. Elizabeth’s strong moral convictions are a source of conflict for her because she is torn between a rational world view and the religious beliefs that permeated every aspect of the culture in which she was raised.

As far as Ripley is concerned, he’s an interesting character specifically because he is amoral, but in a thoughtful and quite dramatic way. For me personally he can’t be a true hero, but no doubt other people see him as such. Then there’s somebody like McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, who is quite scary in a number of ways, whose interpretation of personal property is pretty lax, but who is driven by instincts that are (at least in part) admirable: he likes people, and prefers to see them happy; he dislikes authority, and prefers to challenge it.

I’m still thinking about other characteristics for my list of absolutes. I may take a break to write a little about the difference between story and plot, which somebody asked me about just recently.

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