TROY

I don’t usually go for big Hollywood epics, and for the first half hour of this film all I could see were the typical war film formulas and clichés: sweeping vistas of sandy beaches and large boats on the water, melodramatic commanders rallying their troops to combat, and thousands of computer-generated soldiers marching and fighting on the battlefield. But after a while, I really got into this film, and the reason is Troy is more than a typical Hollywood blockbuster. There’s some real meaning to this film. Partly (perhaps mostly) it’s due to Homer’s The Iliad, on which 30-year-old David Benioff (25th Hour) based his screenplay; it’s a great story full of memorable dialogue. Another reason the film hooked me was that there is some deep philosophy here, not the typical glorification of violence, honor and vengeance so common in war movies and historical epics. Scenes illustrating the madness and futility of war are more prevalent than those supporting it.

Even the lead character, Achilles (played by heartthrob Brad Pitt), the greatest warrior the Hellenic world ever knew, has his doubts about the value of combat, particularly the immorality of fighting for the wrong reasons. Achilles despises his greedy king Agamemnon and grudgingly joins the king’s campaign against the Trojans merely for his own personal glory. “My name will be remembered,” Achilles prophetically boasts, “and my story will be told for thousands of years.”

Brad Pitt is a brilliant movie star, if not a great actor, and he does a decent job in the role of the reluctant soldier, Achilles. Pitt has some of the pithiest lines in the film and it is in these moments that his acting truly shines. The more stereotypical action-film-plot-progression speeches reveal Pitt’s limitations, or perhaps his own lack of inspiration. Pitt is no match in his one scene with legendary screen heavyweight Peter O’Toole who, despite his usual mawkish sputtering, delivers a fine (Oscar-worthy?) performance as Priam, Troy’s noble king. O’Toole’s best scene is the one with Pitt and it’s easy to see the difference in ability between the two. O’Toole, once a young blonde god himself, has enough chops to make even the most insipid banter sound inspirational and his emotional plea for mercy in this scene blows Pitt out of the water: “I have endured what no one on earth has endured. I have kissed the hands of the man who killed my son…you're still my enemy tonight, but even enemies can show respect.”

What Pitt lacks in the acting category, he makes up for with his action scenes and his physical prowess. Pitt trained hard for this role to beef up physically and he delivers excellent fight sequences. Pitt’s Achilles also slays just as many hearts as he does enemies. Bedroom scenes abound, and we get to see just about every part of Pitt’s alluring body, enough to make Jennifer Aniston blush! Though the 40-year-old Pitt has not lost any of his beauty, he has lost some of his youth. His bronzed skin is beginning to reveal a few lines and wrinkles, and as we all know, every golden tan eventually resembles a leather suitcase.

A fine performance in the film is that of Australian Eric Bana, who did nothing for me last year as the Hulk, but who delivers a strong, emotional and thoughtful Hector, the heir to the Trojan throne. Hector is a worthy soldier willing to defend his homeland to the death if necessary, though he hates war and tries to persuade his father Priam against it: “I've killed men and I've heard them dying and I've watched them dying and there's nothing glorious about it.” Hector adores his worried wife and infant son and he ensures their safe escape from the city should tragedy fall.

Unimpressive was Lord Of The Rings veteran Orlando Bloom as Hector’s younger brother Paris, who leads his family and country into ruinous conflict by arrogantly seducing the Spartan queen Helen and secreting her back to Troy to be his bride. The cowardly prince finds honor by the end of the film, but Bloom spends most of the movie expressing his own good looks rather than any believable emotions. German newcomer Diane Kruger is lovely, but forgettable at the remorseful Helen.

Wolfgang Peterson’s (The Perfect Storm, Das Boot) direction is top-notch, and though the film runs two-and-a-half hours, it didn’t seem like it. There’s possibly one too many overhead shots sweeping across the field of battle, but I never got bored or tired of the drama. It’s a great story told well. There are many morals to be learned, not the least of which is the folly of relying on gods to fight wars. The older generation of characters reveres the gods and depends on them for guidance, but the younger characters (those doing the actual fighting) complain that every decision made to appease a god seems to end in disaster. Hector cautions that “sometimes the gods bless you in the morning and curse you in the afternoon” while Achilles asserts to his lover Briseis that “the Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed.”

Many (foolish) reasons for fighting wars are examined in the script: love, land, greed, and oh yes, ego, the desire of a few wealthy men for power, a lust so tempting that the king would gladly sacrifice his entire army just to soothe his bruised family pride. Sound familiar? The bloodthirsty king Agamemnon may proclaim, “Peace is for women and the weak,” but Thetis, the mother of Achilles (played in a cameo by Julie Christie), warns her son, “Your glory walks hand-in-hand with your doom.”

Perhaps it is the excellent British actor Sean Bean (another Lord of The Rings alum) as Odysseus, the character who continues the history in Homer’s sequel The Odyssey, who sums up the ridiculousness of war best when he explains to Achilles, “War is young men dying and old men talking.”

In typical Hollywood fashion, Troy has something for everyone: action for the men, romance for the women, and plenty of eye candy for everyone. It also has a rich level of commentary for the thinkers in the crowd and that makes this Troy worth the effort.