Review

Review Date: 16-May-04
Spoiler Rating: Low
Juju Judgment: Just OK

Troy (2004)

In Wolfgang Petersen's new movie "Troy," the warrior Achilles lays siege to a foreign city not for plunder or revenge but solely for a chance at immortality. This enacted ambition carries an unusual amount of significance, for the movie itself is an echo of people and events from over 3,000 years ago --- a fair stretch of time that approximates eternity in the memory of man. Just think about it: centuries before Christ, people were entertained by recounting the fall of ancient Ilium, and today the legend persists in the new method of storytelling that has replaced bard and troubadour. For anyone fascinated with history and the glory of the past (or the charms of a manly physique), "Troy" has something to offer. Unfortunately, like Achilles himself, it also has a fatal flaw. Well, actually, it has two (so much for simile): an abysmal soundtrack and a weak performer in the central role.

Based upon Homer's epic (with a little Virgil and Hollywood mixed in), "Troy" opens not in Greece or Troy but in Thessaly, with an excellent scene that defines two of the major characters. As Agamemnon (Brian Cox), high king over the lords of the Greek world, pursues his insatiable quest for power, he is forced to rely on the arm of Achilles (Brad Pitt), an invincible killing machine whose Olympian ego chafes at taking orders from another man. Soon after this episode, Agamemnon's brother Menelaus (Brendan Gleeson) plays host to the princes of Troy, Hector and Paris (Eric Bana and Orlando Bloom), the latter of whom repays his hospitality by absconding with his beautiful wife Helen (Diane Kruger). Seizing upon the cause of family honor, Agamemnon amasses an enormous army to conquer Troy and convinces Achilles to join the expedition with the help of slick-tongued Odysseus (Sean Bean, marginal but gloriously sexy).

The production designers and special effects wizards have their day as soon as the action moves to Troy, a marvelously rendered city that is itself an object of beauty worth going to war for. Since the Trojan king Priam (Peter O'Toole) is too old for battle, the defense is led by Hector, a strong, noble family man who endures his father's superstition and his brother's reckless immaturity with patient affection. All of the leading men of Troy are perfectly cast: Bana a picture of solid virtue; Bloom the epitome of pampered pretty boy; and O'Toole the glowing patriarch of a nation that appears to be blessed by the gods --- but not forever.

The poet relates that the war dragged on for a decade, with much interference from deities on one side or the other, yet here the battles are swift, incessant, and entirely the province of men. (The fight scenes of "Troy" nicely capture the sticky proximity of hand-to-hand combat, although I wish that Petersen had taken Spielberg's cue by showing at least one storming of the beach without music, to capture the din of warfare.) Until he is roused by grief, however, Achilles refuses to fight and lounges around his encampment in various stages of undress (the better to show off Pitt's newly sculpted bod), pouting because Agamemnon stole from him a virgin priestess captured as booty (Rose Byrne). For the hero of the tale, Achilles is a self-centered, annoying whiner (even in Homer, who immortalized him), and his nonsensical love affair represents the low point of the film, but that doesn't excuse Pitt's one-dimensional performance. He brings nothing to the role but a wooden expression and an unpleasant contrast to the many A-list actors surrounding him. While it might not be possible to like Achilles, we ought at least to respect his greatness (his mother's a goddess, for Zeus' sake), but with Pitt in his sandals we can only wonder with regret what the movie might have been with someone of real stature in the lead.

"Troy" reaches for a grand, moving vision of a heroic age and achieves some memorable moments of humanity and sacrifice (notably the big duels fought by Paris and Hector). But with a principal hero who commands absolutely no interest, it falls short of the magnitude worthy of so enduring and venerable a tale.

Copyright © 2004 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.