The Trouble with Scotland - Essay Example

THE TROUBLE WITH SCOTLAND, A REVIEW OF MEL GIBSON’S BRAVEHEART "They may take our lives, but they'll never take our Freedom!" So resounds the voice of William Wallace as he attempts to rally his Scottish rebels for the first pitched battle of the movie. He was not 7 feet tall, nor was he able to consume the English with fireballs from his eyes and lightning from his rectum. Instead a mortal man rides out before the lines of his assembled host, answering and acknowledging the cries of fear. "You have come to fight as free men, and free men you are. Fight, and you may die; run - and you'll live; at least a while." He does not challenge them by chastising a very natural reluctance to risk life and limb, but rather bolsters the flagging courage that his fellow Scotsman still possess. The soaring musical score during the scene seems to invite the viewer to recall domestic comforts. Inviting the audience to call up their inherent attachment to hearth and home, as if to remind the errant Scotsman of what they are truly fighting for. The background score in this scene, just prior to the "They'll never take our Freedom!" Exhortation while not misplaced in terms of cinematography in that moment the musical choice does not seem to be evocative of the type of emotions that would rouse reluctant men to battle and death. Rather the total quality or we use an emotional tapestry of soothing memory and simple pleasures, when one might argue that a harder edged sound choice might better foreshadow the carnage to come. But one might argue that the message being portrayed by the particulars of the musical undercurrents in this scene being that for untrained men to rise up as one and engage in a peril fraught, blood soaked exploit of such deadly danger they require something other than themselves for which they are fighting. Even as Wallace's speech would seem to evoke personal pride within them, to spit in the devil's eyes. Asking them if they would truly trade all of the potential days and years of complacent old age 'for one chance, just one chance,' to defy the great Martial might of England's professional army. Here we have a juxtaposition between the selfless need to fight for something greater, while at the same time asserting a piss&vinegar, 'devil may care' disregard for mortality. The portrayal of the larger war against the British is structured during the film to grant a pivotal role to the French-born princess. (played by Sophie Marceau) integral to this war effort and to the film on the whole is the Princess's journey. Her transformation from Royal pawn of perpetually feuding nations bartered away as a living stamp of approval upon a flimsy peace accord between Britain and France - to become a traitorous, adulterous Queen. In the betrayal of her unwilling vows she discovers the means to become true to herself; her personal journey of becoming. Along the way she suffers the fracturing of a variety of formerly naïve notions concerning England, the family into which she has reluctantly married, (if such a loveless union can be considered marriage) the nature of the rebellion, and Long Shanks himself. Most important is the unfolding of her attitudes towards Wallace. It might be said that the characterization of the film does not fully portrayed William Wallace as a changing character. It is a hallmark of the most effective dramas to portray the journey of the protagonist, outwardly in some cases – but also inwardly as challenges and revelations compel him or (her) to transcend the person he used to be. The hero must change to become the Hero. In this film, the greatest transition we see in the character of Wallace is that of grieving child to adult. But once Mel Gibson steps onto the stage as Wallace himself, he arrives as a fully formed superman, larger than life and true to a set of ideals that elevate him above those claiming superiority by right of aristocratic station - especially the right of 'Prima Nocta'. ("The trouble with Scotland is that it's full of Scots!") Does this William Wallace have any room to grow further as a character astride this world of scheming kings, and foppish heirs? In the formation of this character, Long Shanks in a way can be said to have created William Wallace, as it was his treachery that led to the murder of William's father during what turned out to be a sham peace conference. This led to his travels with his uncle and worldly education. But he never forgot his lifelong enmity against the king that shattered his childhood. This comes to us as a timeless lesson on the self-destructive paradox of slaughtering the enemies of a tyranny - and in doing so perpetuating them. Here then arrives William Wallace, his likes and dislikes, attitudes and beliefs secure and certain. He suffers greatly, especially with the unjust slaughter of his wife-to-be Murron. Who herself becomes a sort of vengeance bait. She is less a character in her own right, more of an emotional receptacle from which can spring the righteous wrath of an avenging husband. Yet there is a sense that the vengeance he enacts for this crime is more a reflection of the man he already was rather than a remolding of his fundamental nature. A family man, or even one who simply attempts to become a family man does not need a total reversal of his attitudes and personality to know that he would desire vengeance against someone who would slaughter his loved ones, or to realize that he would desire such retribution upon conjecture. But the Princess herself transforms more than he. During the first meeting with Wallace she seems to hold the notion that York is a happy city of peace and light, entirely undeserving of any sort of hostility from an aggressor. She greets Wallace with a note of formal, if insincere congratulation on his knighthood. "I understand you have recently been given the rank of Knight," The sort of introductory platitudes that would be expected of a diplomat preparing to open negotiations. Yet Wallace replies: "I have been given nothing, God makes men what they are." Here her bias comes to the fore, with a questioning retort as to whether God has made him attack the supposedly peaceful city of York. We can only presume she has allowed herself to be taken in by the local propaganda. Yet York has been a staging area for the preparations of every army to date that has assaulted helpless Scotland. So Wallace reports. York is a valid, military target - and the Princess has been taken for a ride. This hits her as the first of many revelations, both concerning Wallace and herself. Still, she is trained in the gilded deceits of power and diplomacy, and will soon adapt. Moreover, Wallace claims that despite the manifest violence of the battle for York, Long Shanks himself is still guilty of far worse the last time he took a Scottish city. The atrocities were met in kind, and Long Shanks deserves everything he now receives. Yet the Princess's advisor, in his attempt to insert a rebuttal in the Latin allows Wallace/Gibson to reveal yet another facet of his already impressive character. Wallacestates (in Latin) that he is a savage, paradoxically claiming a lack of civilization using the language of scholarly civility. A noble savage, if anything. And with the flicker of a smile upon the princess's otherwise controlled expression upon William's revelation that French is another arrow in his linguistic quiver he offers yet another tantalizing glimpse of personal complexity. The faith of the Princess is sealed when he challenges her to go to Long Shanks and asked him directly concerning the abuses and slaughters perpetrated against his enemies – including women and children. Ask him. "See if his eyes can convince you that he speaks truth." In this he invites the Princess to seek the truth herself, to take the first steps on her own voyage of discovery. This portrayal of William Wallace does not need to grow any further, it becomes his responsibility to uplift those around him that they might approach the intellectual and moral stature of this 'Homo Indomitus.' Unbowed, unconquered. His journey is complete, Wallace is the catalyst that triggers the development of other characters – or reveals them for the Royal worms that they truly are. It is perhaps fortunate that the Princess becomes so acquainted with him. Her very presence in this scene, near the border with Scotland as an emissary of the English Crown is indicative of a weakness, a festering rot in the characters that make up the English court of Long Shanks and kin. Soon after the beginning of the rebellion, the Prince and English heir-apparent stands fidgeting in the castle tower accompanied by his 'military advisor' Philip. Who extols him to 'stand up to him!' Him being the king in this case, whose footsteps reverberate with sepulchral quality as he ascends to the top of the tower for a confrontation with his pathetic spawn over the loss of the strategic city. The sound choice here amplifies the mounting sense of inevitable chastisement. A sound Foreshadowing the impending, metaphorical spanking that the incompetent Royal heir richly deserves. It is architecturally possible that Longshanks' boots might make such a sound if walking up steps like this, towards this tower - yet one cannot avoid wondering whether the tonal quality of the damning footsteps were enhanced in the post-production. In the beginning, Long Shanks decides to test his son. Asking him whether he has received any news, in which the Prince pleads ignorance while claiming he is already sent out riders. Yet word had already reached the King himself even across the English channel in France. There is an undercurrent here of a cowardly reluctance to accept responsibility and avoidance of confrontation hardly fitting a respectable monarch. Much less one whose '...entire northern army has been annihilated.' While the Prince does display a hint of a backbone at the subsequent to death of his 'advisor', the elder King having seen from a pointed glance during the wedding to the French Princess a hint of the true inclinations of the Prince. We see that LongShanks, though almost certainly well into his 60s - perhaps even older, is still twice the man his son is, despite being twice his age. And so England must offer a truce, at least on a temporary basis – to Wallace and his Scottish rebels. The question becomes - "who to send?" Long Shanks dare not go himself; and the sight of his 'gentle son' could encourage a hostile invader! And thus the Princess is needed, not only for her courtly skills of diplomacy, but also because she is both more expendable and less provocative than the men of the English royal family. The meeting between the Princess and Wallace is also fortuitous in that she finds at last, a man suitable to make her a mother, by the end of the film - but not with any child of the King's lineage. And given her husband's predilections, nor is it likely that there will be one. Taken on the whole, Braveheart is more love than action story. It becomes less about battle than the reasons for which battle is necessary. The cinematography and sound choices convey yearnings for hearth and home, peace and human dignity. And above all else, “FREEEEEEEDOM!” Read More