John Boorman

Excalibur (1981)

Excalibur (1981)

(Google Play Streaming, December 2019) Coming at the intersection of Arthurian legend and the early-1980s fantasy film boom, Excalibur chooses to hold nothing back in presenting the knights of the round table in a decidedly fantastic context. Helmed by John Boorman, the film goes for maximal rule of cool—even limited by the special technology of the time, it’s meant to be spectacular with shiny armoured suits, grander-than-life soliloquies and a strong magical element. The cinematography makes great use of its Irish location, and the local casting means that this is not only one of Liam Neeson’s earliest screen credits, but also an early big-screen showcase for Gabriel Byrne, Ciarán Hinds and Patrick Stewart. Nigel Terry does well as Arthur and so does Nicol Williamson as Merlin, but it’s Helen Mirren who looks simply spectacular as Morgana Le Fay, eclipsing even Cherie Lunghi as Guenevere. The result is more impressive as a collection of nice scenes and images than a coherent plot—although my lack of enthusiasm for the Arthurian myth-making may be showing here. Still, I had a reasonably good time watching Excalibur in its overblown grandeur—it has its own strengths that manage to overcome many of its limitations.

Hope and Glory (1987)

Hope and Glory (1987)

(On Cable TV, May 2019) There have been many movies about WW2, many movies about the bombing of England and many movies about civilian populations suffering from war. But don’t think there are that many movies like Hope and Glory. Writer-director John Boorman’s biggest conceptual leap here (in semi-autobiographical mode) is to see the home-front devastation from the eyes of a kid—a nine-year-old boy for whom war is just part of life, with bombed-out buildings offering plenty of opportunities for adventure. What jolly good fun it is to play in the rubble, watch dogfights in the sky, encounter parachuting Nazis and have Hitler bomb your school! Yes, the irony is palpable throughout the film, and its message even more potent because it avoids the expected mawkishness of such films. In fact, Hope and Glory is best experienced thoroughly spoiled: Knowing that nothing really bad happens to the protagonist and his family is a key to appreciating this off-the-wall take on the Blitz. It works as a kid’s comedy, it works as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, it works as an affectionate family portrait. While Sebastian Rice-Edwards gets a lot of screen time as the young boy, Sarah Miles (as the mother) and Ian Bannen (as the grandfather) are quite strong in their roles. There are more essential war movies than Hope and Glory, but there aren’t as many that try to do something true and different with that kind of material. It’s well worth a look.