Witness
(1 hr & 52 min, color, 1985)
Who could imagine how the
world of Amish country peace, piety and simplicity might become entangled with
the virulent urban jungle that this devout, exclusive Christian sect would shun
like an apocalyptic plague? Screenwriters
William Kelley and Pamela and Earl Wallace could, and did so with a very
special skill and ingenuity, not to mention imagination, for this most singular
achievement in suspense and heartfelt excitement. Almost thirty years it has been around the Video/DVD
circuit, and it has not dated in the slightest since its first theatrical
screening. The world it depicts could
just as well be that of the twenty-first century, in which the endangerment of
the innocent and vulnerable is almost daily reflected in the newspapers and on
television news broadcasts.
A seven-year-old Amish
child, played by Lukas Haas, witnesses the murder of a police officer by two
other officers and lands along with his mother Kelley McGillis, recently
widowed, in the clutches of Homicide investigator Harrison Ford. When Ford learns who the culprits are, he too
is marked for assassination by the same parties along with the boy and his
mother. The killers’ attempt on Ford’s
life leaves him wounded, and together with mother and child he slips out of
town and takes hidden refuge within their Amish household. There he is nursed through the crisis and
upon recovery tries to provide protection for the whole Amish community, all of
which is now in danger.
The basic cultural disparity
is as formidable a factor in the construction of this tale as are the evil
doers. Ford is magnificent as a man in
travail amidst unfamiliar surroundings.
The film did much to establish him as a serious actor, something other
than the handsome adventurer of the original “Star Wars” and the Indiana Jones
series. He portrays a man tarnished,
deeply conflicted and vulnerable, not a smoothie macho protagonist. McGillis is equally as cogent and evocative
of internal as well as external fortitude
in the face of personal
combat but also possessed of a lot of heart and soul. This cop’s willingness to transform himself
into a member of the village, however temporarily, is the basis for the film’s
comedy. It also calls forth McGillis’
lighter side and serves as the catalyst for their mutual passion and
desire. My only criticism is the length
to which the writers take this mutual attraction. I cannot quite buy it, not in these
forbidding circumstances. But I can
appreciate the attraction and its complicating impact. They are quite beautiful people.
Any movie lovers now under
the age of thirty would be doing themselves a huge favor to screen it. It wields an emotional clout that is
irresistible and has an ennobling effect upon all the heroic characters it
portrays and by inference upon all of us who champion social justice, sanity
and personal integrity. And it is quite
entertaining to boot. Comedy and drama make
good compatible partners all through the footage, from start to finish. That this is achieved with a deadly threat
hanging over the heads of all the principle personae, from early on until the
explosive climax, is no small wonder.
And what an explosive denouement it is!
Explosive and downright frightening!
But after the last tense moment has passed, the material should go down
quite pleasantly, thanks in part to a beautiful score by Maurice Jarre,
especially the theme he wrote for the barn raising scene.
Peter Weir is the director,
a gifted Australian who has been doing top notch work on the screen for almost
four decades. (Check out “The Truman
Show,” “Dead Poets Society” and “The Year of Living Dangerously.”) Edward S. Feldman produced. And not surprisingly it can be rented from
Netflix.
I close with a quotation
from the dialogue. Whether or not the
screenplay authors made it up or got it from another source I have no way of
knowing short of meeting up with them in person and asking them. I will not reveal which character says it or
to whom or why, because it could have been uttered by anybody anywhere at any
time in a moment of deep insight: “What you take into your hands you take into
your heart.” Something to ponder, eh!
To read other entries in my
blog, please consult its website:
enspiritus.blogspot.com
I welcome feedback. Direct it to bobracine@verizon.net
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