Kidnapped

Year:  1995

Filming:  Color

Length: 155 minutes

Genre:  Action/Adventure/Drama

Maturity:  PG (for intense thematic elements)

Cast:  Brian McCardie (David Balfour), Armand Assante (Alan Breck Stewart), Patrick Malahide (Ebenezer Balfour), Michael Kitchen (William Reed), Adam Blackwood (Captain Forbes), Brian Blessed (Cluny MacPherson), Brian McGrath (James Stewart of the Glen), Brendan Gleeson (Colin Campbell, “The Red Fox”), Antoine Byrne (Mary MacDonald of Dunbrae), Catherine Byrne (Flora)

Director:  Ivan Passer

Personal Rating:  4 Stars

***

    As a Scottish/British history buff, I often lament the shoddy depiction of the Jacobite Rebellions on screen. They are reduced politically-driven drivel about the evil English and their attempts to subjugate the independent-minded Scots. All the nuances of the period are shunted to the wayside, which irks me to no end. However, I am pleased to report that this version of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic adventure story Kidnapped does a fair job staying true to history for us buffs, and making it exciting for the public at large.

    Brian McCardie stars as Davie Balfour, a young gentleman from the Lowlands of Scotland, coming of age in the mid-18^th century. Upon the death of his father, he goes in search of his long-lost uncle Ebenezer, who has been hoarding his rightful inheritance by pretending to be the elder of the two brothers, when in fact he was the younger one. Still, after some investigating and surviving nearly falling through a broken stair-well (yes…it’s a set-up!), he manages to get Ebenezer to promise him some share in the family fortune. Instead, the all-too-trusting Davy winds up being kidnapped and sold into slavery on board a ship headed for the Americas. 

    But his course is interrupted when Alan Breck Stuart, a Jacobite exile on a mission to France, boards the ship and bargains for safe passage. Thrown together by mutiny and shipwreck, Davie and Alan are washed ashore on the Scottish Highlands where they must learn to trust one another if they except to survive in an atmosphere of political tension and military occupation in the aftermath of the failed Jacobite rising of 1745.  

     Davie is determined to return to the Lowlands and reclaim his rightful inheritance; Alan is set on getting to France and delivering money to finance the Jacobite cause. Even though their perspectives clash and they find it difficult to get along, circumstances pull them together after they are both framed for assassinating Red Campbell “the Fox”, a powerful pro-government laird shot down on the road. With no hope of being acquitted in a land dominated by brutal martial law, Davie and Alan set off on a race across the Highlands to avoid capture by redcoat troops.

     But the stakes are raised when the murder of Campbell the Fox is blamed on James Stewart of the Glen, Alan Breck’s surrogate father. Eager to prove his innocence, Alan Breck goes in search of the real killer with the legally-astute Davie in toe. But when James is captured and cruelly executed, the goal changes from a rescue mission to fulfilling a vendetta. Along the way, the unlikely pair enlists the aid of Mary MacDonald of Dunbrae, a young lady who Davie begins to fancy, in spite of their initial clash of customs and beliefs. They also meet with the rowdy Cluny MacPherson in his mountain stronghold called “Cluny’s Cage”.

    There is danger aplenty as they stay one step ahead of William Reed, a ruthless government official from London obsessed with capturing Alan, using any means at his disposal to do so. Along with Reed is Captain Forbes, a young British officer whose desperation for promotion stifles the dictates of his conscience. But an unexpected twist ultimately makes him vitally important in deciding the fates of Davie and Alan as they reenter the Lowlands, hell-bent on reclaiming Davie’s rightful inheritance and avenge James of the Glen. In the process, they learn that friendship can be developed in the most trying of circumstances, and in spite of many differences, unity can be forged.

   

     I found this version of Kidnapped to be a good adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson's classic novel about the aftermath of the Jacobite Risings. Although it does stray from the book in various places, I think it manages to do so with skill, building subplots that succeed in enhancing the main storyline rather than demolishing it. I also think that this version does a fair job in keeping with the proper terminology of the historical period, which is refreshing in comparison with some later versions that rely heavily on the "bad English/good Scottish" stereotype and overlook the complexities of the rebellions.

    Of course, there were still historical inaccuracies. It’s a fact that no one knows for sure who murdered Campbell the Fox, and inserting a fictional character to blame it on doesn’t really solve the mystery…although I could almost believe that a government official might have. And were they seriously trying to say that Alan Breck had an illegitimate child with Flora MacDonald? Or was this a totally different Flora they had make a debut? That whole sequence was really awkwardly explained! I appreciate it was trying to point out the difference in a man and a woman’s perspective on the ongoing strife, but still!

      I appreciate the way Davie is shown as maintaining his position as a government supporter while at the same coming to be more sympathetic towards the Jacobites, as opposed to “going rebel”, as the 2010 version indicates. I particularly liked the scene in which he made a case that the rebellion was over, and Scotland had made her choice for King George, the Whig administration, and with it the Act of Union. It quite reminded me of the current conflict in Scotland over the issue of independence, and how some people refuse to give up the ghost on the matter or acknowledge the will of the majority in a “once-in-a-lifetime” opportunity to decide the matter.

     On the other hand, Alan is shown as being continually loyal to Jacobitism and “the king across the water” while at the same time coming to better understand the logic of the government supporters, and the realization that the future lies with them. Over the course of their adventures together, Davie manages to successfully demonstrate that his law-abiding position is a logical one, even as we cannot help but agree with Alan Breck’s insistence that he should get some more “poetry in his soul.” Another part of the movie that I liked was the way that both characters have different ideas about what it means to be a “Christian gentleman”, and yet each one knows the importance of it. It seems that Alan is a Catholic (he makes the sign of the cross in one scene), and Davie is a Presbyterian, and yet both learn to respect each other and their mutual dedication to honor. My only complaint is the way the two parted in the end; it was so cut-dry, after all they had been through together! A little emotion was needed!

    The acting overall was fair enough. Brian McCardie and Armand Assante make an excellent team, sparring with wit and ultimately swords (all in good humor!). I simply love McCardie’s rich Scottish accent, and the way that when he is frustrated, he forces himself to speak through a plastered grin! Assante also brought Alan Breck Stuart to life as a rugged yet lovable rogue, very human and able to tug at the hearts of the audience through his tragic heroism in a lost cause. And who could pick a better British villain than Michael Kitchen? Okay, so those who know me well know that I was a fan of his role as terrifyingly imperturbable Judge Jeffries in Lorna Doone, and he does not disappoint as the sardonic, sarcastic, ever-smirking, black-clad William Reed in Kidnapped.

    This is a made-for-TV movie, so perfection is not to be grasped at. However, the scenery shots are beautiful, with the hills and glens all wonderfully wild and resonating with Celtic connotations. Indeed, it taps into that very inner poetry that Alan is so desperate to get Davie to acknowledge (the artist in me has tried that with many-a-stiff-necked doldrum…;-) Period costuming was also very good, and I especially liked the red-coat uniforms (don't I always?!). Unfortunately, the music track, which repeated itself over and over again throughout the film, was certainly lacking and sometimes sounded like it was pounded out on a cheesy studio keyboard! The 2010 version certainly had a catchier theme, although I will say there were several moments of musical grace involving a stirring whistle tune, and a few bagpipe interludes.

     So I would definitely rate this movie as an enjoyable historical adventure flick with a good plot-line, memorable characters, and some lovely scenery snap-shots. As I’ve often mentioned in the past, it’s interesting that little-known, small-budget productions actually do a better job with historical retellings than big-budget Hollywood-ized block-busters. Without all the schmaltz, there is time to be more subtle in exploring the characters and time periods in which they live and work and fight and bond with one another. Robert Louis Stevenson was a great author, and he deftly managed to capture a complex time period in Scottish history through his novel Kidnapped. I think this movie adaption, although certainly not perfect, did a good job keeping in line with the spirit of the original work.

Cluny McPherson (Brian Blessed) shares a drink with Alan Breck Stuart (Armande Assante)

Barry Lyndon

Year:  1975

Filming:  Color

Length: 184 minutes

Genre:  Adventure/History/Drama/War

Maturity:  PG (for intense thematic elements and some sexual innuendos)

Cast:  Ryan O’Neal (Barry Lyndon), Marisa Berenson (Lady Honoria Lyndon), Gay Hamilton (Nora Brady), Marie Kean (Barry’s Mother), Dominic Savage (Young Bullingdon), David Morley (Bryan Patrick Lyndon), Leonard Rossiter (Captain John Quinn), Godfrey Quigley (Captain Grogan), Patrick Magee (The Chevalier du Balibari), Hardy Kruger (Captain Potzdorf), Murray Melvin (Rev. Samuel Runt), Frank Middlemass (Sir Charles Lyndon), King George III (Roger Booth), Arthur O’Sullivan (Captain Feeny, Highwayman), Seamus Feeny (Billy Boyle), Michael Hordern (Narrator)

Director:  Stanley Kubrick

Personal Rating:  4 Stars

    

***

    

     As my loyal readers know, I have a hard time grinning and bearing the sorry succession of modern historical epics, inculcated with rampant historical accuracy and blatant revisionism that destroys both feel and form. And yet every once in a while, I am pleasantly surprised to watch a movie that captures an era in an artful and appropriate way. Such is the case with Barry Lyndon. While it may not be my favorite story-line in the world, for a period piece, it stands out as being comfortable in its own skin, with swagger, elegance, and wry British humor to boot. Also, looking for spiritual insights, I would say that this film should not be seen as light entertainment about a naughty boy who overplays his hand, but as an analysis of the mixed capacity of the human nature and dangers of seeking greatness before goodness.

    Ryan O’Neal stars as Redmond Barry, a young middle-class Irishman in the mid-18^th century whose father was killed in a duel. He is raised by his devoted mother, who struggles monetarily and hopes that her son will climb socially and bring glory to the family name. However, when Barry falls in love with his flirtatious cousin, Nora Brady, he is almost undone by her wiles after she throws herself at Captain John Quinn, a wealthy British army officer who comes to Ireland on a recruiting mission upon the outbreak of the Seven Years’ War. Letting his fiery temper get the best of him, Barry throws a wine glass at his rival, and a duel is arranged between the two. When Barry hits his target, he thinks he has killed the man and must flee for fear of repercussions.

    But a twist of fate in the form a road-side robbery causes Barry to take a job as a redcoat in the British army. Taken under the wing of his friend, Captain Grogan, and able to win the respect of his comrades through his cheeky disposition and fighting prowess, it seems that he might have found his calling. But when Grogan is killed in their first skirmish in Germany, Barry begins to lose his taste for battle. The burning and pillaging only add to his distaste, and soon he determines to desert. He does so by commandeering one of his officer’s uniforms and claiming that he is carrying dispatches to the Prussian allies. But he is found out by the clever Prussian Captain Potzdorf, and inducted into the even more brutal Prussian service. 

     Barry takes a downward turn in his personal behavior, becoming a cynical survivor in what he sees as the game of life. However, he does save the life of Potzdorf after he is trapped in a burning building, and as a result is taken out of the army and put into the secret service to observe a certain Chevalier du Balibari, a noted gambler and gourmet whose allegiance is in question. When Barry discovers that the Chevalier is a fellow Irishmen, he becomes a double-spy for him and ultimately escapes the country as his partner in the art of the gaming table. His skill with the sword is also useful to gently persuade reluctant gentleman to pay the piper after losing at cards!

    In Belgium, Barry takes fate into his own hands in an effort to earn himself a title, and launches an affair with the beautiful Lady Honoria Lyndon, an English aristocrat on holiday with her aged husband, Sir Charles Lyndon, and their young son. After her husband’s death (stress-induced, after Barry taunts him), the two are married, and Barry believes that his way upward is secured. But Honoria’s son, now styled as Young Lord Bullingdon, is not duped by the swaggering Irish rogue and refuses to acknowledge him as his new father. Honoria also becomes disillusioned with her new husband over time, as his grasping after personal aggrandizement and multiple affairs drain the family wealth and leave her out in the cold. But Barry and his wife do have a son who they name Bryan Patrick, and Barry proved to be a tender and loving father, as much as he had been a neglectful husband. 

     As he grows older, Lord Bullingdon tries his best to bare up with Barry’s disgraceful flaunting of the family name (he adopts the style Lyndon, a slap-in-the-face to his dead rival) and squandering of his inheritance. Bullingdon also tries to be reasonably civil with his pampered little half-brother, but eventually he can stand the circumstances no longer, and after a major confrontation with Barry in the parlor, leaves his home in self-imposed exile. However, after little Bryan is killed by a horse, Barry rapidly deteriorates in grief, and Lady Honoria is kept a virtual prisoner in her own home, Young Bullingdon realizes that it is his duty to rescue his mother and reclaim his inheritance. 

    Artistically and cinematically, this film is breath-takingly beautiful. Stanley Kubrick, the director of Barry Lyndon, was inspired by the works of the 18^th century painters, and determined to shoot the film using natural lighting techniques in both exterior and interior scenes. The result is a lush panorama of sequences that do look like images from an art gallery. The beautiful outdoor sky-shots look like water-colors. Costuming and sets are exquisite and detailed. From the military marches, to the country dances, to the gaming binges of the rich and famous, everything is richly portrayed. The gorgeous outfits sometimes made me want to squeal with delight. Those beautiful red coats and sparkling gorgets…ah!! Not to mention all the satin and silks of the dandies and their ladies…and the wigs!!! Sheer bliss!! The music too was perfectly period, including the almost continuous underpinning of a Baroque score and the rousing versions of “British Grenadiers” and “Lilli Burlero” and the haunting ballad “Women of Ireland” played by The Chieftains. 

    But beyond this, what I really admired about the film was able to capture the right feel of its chosen time period. All too often, movies will have all the visual splendors but are unable to penetrate the historical barrier, as it were. Instead of trying to make the viewer feel as if they are traveling back it time, the atmosphere is cluttered with modern presuppositions and prejudices foisted onto the past by liberalistic emissaries in costume, some depicting over-the-top villains who represent the evils of the age and others portraying forward-thinking, far-sighted wonder-bunnies for heroes and heroines. The whole thing becomes a hokey would-be morality play glorifying the modern world view. Not so with the slyly satirical yet admirably even-handed Barry Lyndon.     

    I love the way that the style and ceremony of the age was accurately depicted. These little details are often lacking in period pieces, or otherwise made a total mockery of. But the characters in this movie seem quite comfortable with all of it. They easily address each other easily as “Sir” and “Madam”, and there is a certain code of civility employed even in the most dangerous activities such as fist-fighting and dueling. Fair play is vitally important in these, as are the concepts of courage and personal honor. While some of these manifestations may seem strange to our modern sensibilities, and the dour British narrator takes light pricks at the inconsistencies of the era, one cannot help but admire such a code of behavior when accurately portrayed, even if not everyone followed it and some took it beyond the pale. 

   The individual character developments challenge stereotypes. Each one of the characters unique and has both good and bad traits, and there are no over-the-top baddies or hair-slicked-back-heroes to be found. Redmond Barry, of course, is the epitome of this complexity in the characterization. He starts out as warm-blooded young romantic, and is in some ways lovably roguish and daring as he makes his own fortune in a world where birth and breeding can make or break a man. And yet we find ourselves increasingly disillusioned by his methods, going from a deserter to a double-spy to a gambler to a romancer of nobleman’s wife. 

    Ultimately, his house proves to be built on sand, and his obsession with obtaining a title and becoming a member of the peerage drains his wife’s fortune. Furthermore, his own cynicism towards life that enabled him to survive and thrive now almost prevents him from being able to love, and he has multiple affairs and flirtations for the fleeting pleasure of it. And yet Barry still has some goodness left in him, which is brought out in his tender devotion to his young, mischievous son Brian. But it seems almost as if his degeneration of character has cast of a curse over his family, because the young Brian dies disobeying his father and mounting a horse alone. 

     I always wondered why the front cover of Barry Lyndon portrayed a shadowy figure pointing his pistol to the ground. Now I understand that it was alluding to the moment of his partial redemption. When his son-in-law, Lord Bullingdon, returns to rescue his mother and reclaim his rightful inheritance, the young man accidentally sets off his pistol before taking aim. According the strict rules of the duel, he has used up his shot, and must stand and receive the shot from his opponent. Bullingdon is horrified, and throws up in the corner before recovering himself and honorably standing to await the shot. That sparkle of decency that we always knew Barry had shows itself again, and he calmly fires his pistol into the ground. This allows Bullingdon to choose either end the contest, or to take another shot. He takes another shot, and hits Barry in the leg, which is later amputated ending his reign as a Lyndon. (Notice that dueling is the main motif of this film, which opens with Barry’s father being killed in a duel, hinges on his duel with John Quinn, and finishes with his duel with Bullingdon.) 

    The other characters, too, are given well-rounded treatment including Captain John Quinn, Reverend Samuel Rump, and Young Bullingdon. Quinn may be pompous, but he’s not evil, a fact which I have ceased to take for granted after watching too many horrendous epics with redcoat insta-baddies. In fact, he doesn’t really do anything wrong except fall in love with the same flirtatious female who stole the heart of Barry! It’s true that he has cash to back him, but Nora was ready and willing to accept his marriage proposal and the settlement. Barry is totally out-of-line in throwing the glass at Quinn, which smashes in his face and leaves a gash on his forehead. In the duel, Quinn is willing to let the whole thing go if Barry apologizes and goes off to Dublin, but Barry will have none of it. Unbeknownst to them all, Nora’s family put fake bullets in Barry’s gun, so his shot merely knocks Quinn out from the impact, but he later comes to and marries Nora!

      Rev. Rump is an intriguing character as well. While at first I thought they might characterize him as a pasty-faced paid hireling, using his religious robes to obtain a juicy income, he actually turns out to be a figure of moral strength and integrity. While he is the one chosen to marry Barry and Honoria, and initially encourages Young Bullingdon to except his “new father”, he later comes to realize that Lady Honoria’s Irish lover-turned-husband is a cad and wastrel. Rump is one of her sole supports during the years of neglect, and serves as the tutor of both her sons. When Bryan is tragically killed, he is the one who performs the funeral service, and again serves as a major support for Lady Lyndon, who is on the border of a nervous break-down and locked in her own house. 

    When Barry’s mother tries to fire Rump, he calmly states that he’d be happy to go without the pay, but he cannot leave Lady Lyndon in her present condition. He then stands up to her, and says they have no right to hold her prisoner in order to hide Barry’s misappropriation of funds and alcoholism. When he is forced to go anyway, Lady Lyndon tries to commit suicide. Rump and another loyal servant are then instrumental in bringing news to Young Bullingdon of the deteriorating situation, and encourage him to launch his rescue attempt. I have to admit that there were times I thought Rev. Rump might have had feelings for Lady Lyndon, and could not help but think that after all the suffering they had gone through together they would make a good pair. So yeah…can we file for an Anglican annulment for Barry and Honoria so Samuel and Honoria can get married and start afresh?? 

    Young Bullingdon is probably my favorite character in the movie. I can’t imagine what I would do in this kid’s position, but he handles it with a fair amount of dignified resolve I find quite admirable. I mean, Barry practically kills off his father, misuses his mother, squanders his inheritance, and usurps the family name only to disgrace it by his dissolute conduct. When his mother says he should kiss his “new father” goodbye, he responds boldly “My father was Sir Charles Lyndon…have you forgotten him, Madam?” (Round of applause from me!) He is therefore chastised with the whipping stick by Barry, but the fight is on, and the young nobleman will not be broken. 

   For most of movie, he manages to keep his emotions in check in spite of the worsening situation. Even in his very hottest moments, when he calls out Barry as “an Irish peasant and ruffian”, there is a certain noble bearing that contrasts with Barry’s striving for nobility. When Bullingdon finally takes his revenge, it is down out of necessity, to rescue his mother and estate. While some would accuse him of hardness for refusing to back down from the duel after Barry spared him, if he had done so his rescue mission would have been a sorry flop. Still, after he shoots his step-father in the leg, he does send a message to Barry’s mother informing her where he is. He also offers him an annuity to live on after his leg is amputated, providing that he leaves England never to return. The once-proud Barry has no option but to take the annuity and leave. 

         Barry Lyndon is a very British film, complete with dark humor, meandering pace, and a profound, cut-dry finale. Some people get lulled to sleep or puzzled by this style, and in some cases I would agree with them. But for this setting, I think it worked to a tee. It is also very British in the way it characterizes the Irish as a hot-tempered, somewhat untrustworthy race with charm and charisma but compromised morals and motives. Nevertheless, there is also a grudging respect for their indomitable spirit and refusal to be cowed, which is epitomized by Barry’s declaration to John Quinn (who was offering him a way out of the duel if he’d leave town), “I’d as soon go to Dublin as to Hell!” The real question is…are Barry and his Irish family and friends Catholic Celtic-Irish or Protestant Anglo-Irish? I think it might be the latter since they are middle-class land-holders capable of joining the military, even though Captain Grogan is once seen making the sign of the cross. Perhaps they are Catholics who apostatized under the pressure? 

    With regards to morality, this is the story of a rake’s rise and fall, so scandal is in the air. But for a ‘70s movie, it doesn’t get too “in the weeds” with regards to Barry’s sexual flings. Most are merely hinted at, and the worst we see are a few passionate kisses. There are a couple of scenes with brief flashes of female upper nudity, which can easily be skipped. There is also a scene indicating that two British officers might be homosexual, although nothing graphic is actually shown. An important part of the story does hinge on a “game” played by the promiscuous Nora Brady, who has Barry reach inside her bodice to pull out a ribbon…only to have John Quinn do the same a little later on! But that’s her character; she’s not above board. The guys, of course, shouldn’t be playing the game at all, but their participation ultimately makes them both pretty foolish looking. 

    While some people complained of the stiffness, slow-pace, and odd juxtaposition of satire and tragedy, one advertisement for the film trumpeted: “Its aching beauty will wipe you out!” I agree that there is something about Barry Lyndon that does have an aching beauty, and it’s not just the scenery. The story itself is so very human, and so very sad. By the end of the movie, Barry is a pathetic creature who sold his soul to get to the top, and lost everything. But we can’t just relish in his deserved decline, for he embodies too many of our own warped desires and desperations. He starts out as a naïve, starry-eyed romantic with hopes of greatness for the future, but the class system prevents him from ever achieving those goals, unless he plays crooked. He becomes his own worst enemy in seeing the world through cynical eyes and using other people as mere prongs on the ladder of success. 

     And still he is not all bad. He dearly loves his small son Bryan, and refuses to kill his arch-enemy step-son coming back to avenge the insults to his honor. Throughout the film, he also shown as being emotion and given to tears, especially upon the death of his friend Captain Grogan, the meeting of a fellow Irishman in Chevalier du Balibari, and the death of his beloved little boy Brian. It is during these heart-felt moments when one wants to console and rehabilitate Barry, telling him that there is still time to patch up the messes he’s made and live a different sort of life. There can be redemption for him yet, for a person’s identity does depend upon the titles of the world, but who they really are.

    But perhaps the story of Barry Lyndon must remain unfinished, for there are so many unfinished stories just like his in which he can make a difference today. Perhaps the lesson for us here is that we must commit him and all those like him to the mercy of God, before whom all are equal. This is formalized in the closing scene of the film where it is written: “It was the reign of King George III that the aforesaid personages lived and quarreled; good or bad, handsome or ugly; rich or poor…they are all equal now.” And that, I think, is a very profound epilogue for this panoramic picture of historical significance.

Redmond Barry (Ryan O'Neal) and Nora Brady (Gay Hamilton) play cards