The Cavalier daily Monday, March 6, 1972 | ||
CINEMA
Who Cares If Zach Bass Dies?
By CHRIS DICKEY
The least interesting thing
about "Man in the Wilderness"
is the man. His name is Zach
Bass and he's a member of a
big trapping expedition in the
Northwest Territory of the
1820's. At the beginning of the
movie he is mauled by a bear.
His companions leave him to
die, but of course he doesn't,
and all through the rest of the
film we have to listen to
sundry characters ask
themselves "What keeps that
Zach Bass going?"
This is obviously a big
concern of theirs.
Unfortunately for the film, it
does not become a big concern
of ours.
It's almost impossible to get
interested in whether Zach
Bass lives or dies. Richard
Harris plays the part so
oafishly that were it not for
some flashbacks of the
character's youth we might
wonder why he and the grizzly
bear didn't establish an
immediate rapport.
Richard Harris: Closing and Opening His Mouth
Harris has stylized his
performance to the point
where only two expressions
remain: mouth open and
mouth closed. Even in a
flashback to a "tender love
scene" Harris makes Bass look
so dull-witted and malevolent
that we fear a little for his
pregnant wife's safety.
John Huston plays an
interesting character - John
Huston - but his name in the
film is Captain Henry. For
some not very clear reason he
insists on towing a riverboat
reminiscent of Noah's Are
across the northern wilds.
Bass is supposed to hate
Henry, and Henry is supposed
to fear Bass. Through
flashbacks and monologues we
are told the reasons, but
ultimately neither the hate nor
the fear is very convincing.
In fact, very little of the
film is convincing. The animals
in the wilderness look like
fugitives from a children's zoo.
At one point Bass finds a
little, white, pink-eyed bunny
rabbit which appears about as
wild as a leftover Easter
present. The rabbit has a
broken leg, which Bass mends.
This, one supposes, is meant to
tell us profound things about
Bass's character.
The occasional wolves look
like spray-painted German
shepherds. The bear at the
beginning is too small and
black to be very grizzly. We
find in the end credits that its
name is Peggy.
With all those phony
animals running around in it,
director Richard C. Sarafian
nearly manages to spoil the
wilderness itself, which is
certainly the best thing he has
going for him in this movie.
Gerry Fisher's cliched
photography doesn't help
much. He seems to have only
two lenses at his disposal: a
long telephoto, and a very wide
angle covered with Vaseline
which he use every time Bass is
supposed to be opening his
eyes.
There are, nonetheless,
some very good touches in this
film. The props and wardrobe
are superb and really catch
effectively the feel of the time.
And some of the photography
(probably done by the second
unit using a double for Harris)
gives us awesome images of a
man alone in an overpowering
landscape.
In those scenes we begin to
appreciate where the real
power of this film might have
been: in the terrific struggle of
a man alone-"all, all alone"-in a vast, uninhabited land.
As it is, however, every time
Bass opens his eyes he seems to
be in the middle of some new
Indian festivity, whether
childbearing or settler
skewering.
There is much in "Man in
the Wilderness" which could
have been so good; it's too bad
that most of it is not very good
at all.
(Now at the Paramount)
The Cavalier daily Monday, March 6, 1972 | ||