The Claim

source: Kingdom Come

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The Claim

This is a bloated pompous mess of a movie that looks really good and wants to be good, but cannot be. The editing is mostly to blame. It jumps around from time period to time period without much warning and then there are the events in the movie that make little sense. For example, why does a fully furnished house moved into place by men and horses, not have broken dishes, crockery, paintings on the floor, etc.? Instead everything is perfect when the actors step inside. And why is a train circa 1930's running around in 1900 California? And how on God's green Earth could someone be buried six feet under when there is a good two feet of snow on the ground (anyone who lives in a snowbound area knows this is impossible)? Wes Bentley isn't so much acting as just saying lines. The one thing this movie had in its favor is that none of the actors had straight teeth - and that would be fitting for the era...

Pretentious drivel is about all one can say. Pity because moving Hardy west is an appealing idea but the performers, mood and conceits of the movie are anything but western. Comparisons with Altman's McCabe and Mrs. Miller are interesting but mostly serve to demonstrate that this is (sorry but it is the best description) still pretentious drivel. Perhaps some enterprising auteur can try this again with a different cast and director but again premised on the Mayor of Casterbridge doing his time in the nineteenth century west but this time without the European music and, one more time, pretentious drivel. I would have noted spoiler and mentioned the end but I could not make it through. Paging Julie Christie.

In the sense that it lacks the conventions of any particular trend or mode, The Claim is timeless filmmaking. It betrays no resemblance to any single period in film's modern history, and could've as easily appeared in 1985, or 1965, as now. Of all the cinematic influences Director Winterbottom might ally, he seems to have ignored all but one: himself. Leaving behind contemporary notions of style or authorism, he guides us through the story of a pioneer man's creation of himself, his young aspirations, and the insurmountable grief he eventually reaps. Winterbottom's camera moves softly and beautifully, even in and out of focus, as if navigating slowly through falling snow or sluggish cold air. But the film, for all it's seemingly languorous pace, never once leaves us for wont of a scene to move on, or for the story to ascend another level of fullness. The story will chill your heart as deeply as it's landscape will chill your bones.

One of my favourite things about this fine film is that the characters have European accents; too often films set in the American frontier of the 19th Century have their characters speaking in unlikely modern American accents. It adds greatly to the film's believability, as well as reminding the viewer that these were people who left their homelands, usually to escape extreme poverty, and started a new life in what was (to the white man) unknown territory; this utter anonymity helps explain the actions of some of the characters in the film. Indeed the central theme, the cost of sacrificing what one has for a possible better life, is an aspect of emigration itself; the poem "Noreen Bán" recited by Hope Byrne recalls the tragedy of mass emigration from Ireland after the Great Famine, so its impact on Dillon is multiplied. Great credit is also due to the actors, excellent performances all round.