Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World
Master and Commander is a superlative piece of historical fiction, something that has not been seen in cinema for some time. Historical pieces out of Hollywood tend to be complete distortions of the truth, generally taking a historical incident and twisting it until it serves given ideological purposes. Take, for example, Dances with Wolves, which gave an at best selective representation of American Indian life, or the recent Luther, which somehow managed to make a movie about a man without telling much of anything about the way he actually was (though not nothing; perhaps it will be the subject of another review). Master and Commander is different; it presents things as they actually were. And that is a refreshing change.
While Master does not seize on any particular historical occurrence, unlike other excellent and more or less accurate historical films like The Mission or Black Robe, it represents the period, the early nineteenth century, in a flawless and uncompromising manner. Set in the middle, dragging years of the long Napoleonic wars, the movie defends notions of leadership, heirarchy, discipline, duty, and manhood in a way that no other movie has in recent years. Many of these elements go together, combining into a great sweep that keeps one riveted in the pursuit of the French ship Acheron across the wide, raging seas.
The captain, "Lucky Jack," is loved by his men; he is a good leader, loves his men, but will not hesitate to discipline them when it is necessary. The film's theme of leadership, what it means to lead men, particular in the setting of warfare, is constant and powerful. Lucky Jack has earned the loyalty of his men; at one point, during a violent storm at Cape Horn, a man goes overboard, holding on to a collapsed mast for his life. The mast is held to the ship by its lines, and several of the man's friends are struggling to pull him back on board before they cut the lines. The mast is acting as a sea anchor, holding down one side of the ship, which is a costly risk during a storm. Jack has a decision to make; should he cut the lines, or draw the man back in at the possible cost of the rest of the ship? He makes his decision; the line is cut. He shouts the order, and one of the man overboard's best friends raises the hatchet to cut the lines. It is a hard task, and Jack did not like ordering it any more than his men liked executing it. But it must be done, and Jack's leadership is such that no one questions the command and no one blames him for it. The men know that he loves each and every one of them, and would never let one die unless there was no other way. So his men remain loyal, and Jack's leadership is intact.
Later on, though, the same man that cut the lines has violated the laws of the ship. A certain officer, who has completely failed of advancement for many years, has earned the scorn of the men, and is widely regarded as responsible for the ship's long marooning in windless waters. This man failed to salute this officer. Jack orders him whipped; there is no other way. The men must see what happens when officers are disrespected. But privately he castigates this officer mercilessly; it is really his fault that the men do not respect him. The officer protests that he has always tried to be a friend to the men; Jack rejects this defense for the excuse that it is. The men, he tells the officer, do not need a friend; they are friends with each other. They need a leader; they need an officer. And the reason they do not respect this officer is because he has failed to be a good officer. Leadership presupposes heirarchy, and Jack never doubts that it is natural and good.
The ship's doctor, a man with liberal sympathies, argues with Jack that heirarchy is immoral, that it is the excuse of tyrants everywhere, including Napoleon. Jack then explicitly defends heirarchy, arguing that it is natural, seen everywhere in nature, and that tyrants are its corruption, not its embodiment. There are heirarchies of everything: heirarchies of men, as in officers and crew; heirarchies in nature, as in the eating and the eaten; and heirarchies in duties, as in to county and to self. The doctor will soon realize the truth in this, and drop something that he has longed for all his life to live it out.
The doctor is an amateur naturalist, and has always wished to collect specimens from the Galapagos islands. The pursuit of the Acheron brings them by the islands, and having lost the French man-of-war, the ship stops there, allowing the doctor to go about collecting various and sundry strange animals. During his expedition, however, the doctor sees the Acheron, on the other side of the island. His discussion with Jack about duty on his mind, he realizes that there is, indeed, a heirarchy, and that his duty to king and country supercedes his duty to his own curiosity. So he drops his specimens and heads back for the ship, to report the position of the Acheron to Lucky Jack. The ship raises anchor and begins pursuit; soon the battle will be joined.
The battle itself, of course, is epic, and in perfect conformity with the naval strategies of the Napoleonic wars. The historical details are frightfully good. There are a few blacks on the ship; they are seen and not heard, just as they would have been in those days (n.b.: I don't approve of this kind of thing; racial discrimination is a bad thing; I just approve of historical movies doing things the way they were done in history). The midshipmen are mostly young boys, between twelve and eighteen; they fight and give orders like any officer, and the men obey them without question. They are learning to be men, which too many movies completely neglect. All of those on the ship are truly men, hard-working, hard-fighting, good and noble men. There is no trace of effeminacy on board this ship or the Acheron. All in all, it is an excellent movie, portraying not only historical facts accurately but also giving important lessons about heirarchy, manhood, and leadership which the modern world has all but forgotten. It should be seen by everyone; no one will fail to profit from it.