savage demands
by Douglas Messerli
Benedict Fitzgerald and Michael
Fitzgerald (screenplay, based on the novel by Flannery O’Connor), John Huston
(director) Wise Blood / 1979
John Huston’s 1979 film, Wise Blood, received mostly positive
reviews, many of them arguing how faithful the film is to Flannery O’Connor’s
legendary first novel. In many respects, one would have to agree that this
film, surely a difficult work to achieve within the Hollywood definition of
what is a saleable film—Wise Blood
had German and US backing—comes off far better than one might have suspected. All
of O’Connor’s strange players reappear in their compelling and compelled roles
in the small, mythical Southern community of Taulkinham, including the war
veteran Hazel Motes, the “blind” preacher, Asa Hawkes, his sex-crazed daughter
Sabbath Lily, the lonely and lost boy Enoch Emery, the religious-spouting
conman, Hoover Shoates (re-baptizing himself as Onnie Jay Holy), and the
scheming landlady, Mrs. Flood. And most of these larger-than-life characters
are quite convincingly acted, including Motes (Brad Dourif), Emery (Dan Schor),
Hawkes (Harry Dean Stanton), Sabbath Lily (Amy Wright), Shoates (Ned Beatty),
and Mrs. Flood (Mary Nell Santacroce)—particularly given that their roles are
so much larger than life.
For the most part, Huston downplays the shocking encounters between
these figures, steering his narrative away from what might have been absurdly
exaggerated types at the best, and campy versions of Southern degenerates at
worst. A work in which the central character, preaching against organized
religion, argues for a new “Church of Christ without Christ,” in which “the
blind can’t see, the lame don’t walk, and the dead stay that way” in the midst
of world quite literally fermenting in religiosity, is a hard line to tow in a
medium that generally pushes everything off the cliff of realism. Add to that a
blind preacher who can see all too well, his daughter, determined to marry
Motes (“I'm just crazy about him. I never seen a boy I like the looks of any
better.”), a lunatic friend, Emery Enoch, with the mind of child, who steals a
mummy from a local museum to present Hazel with the symbol of new church and
later steals a gorilla costume and attempts to shake hands with the natives,
and, finally, a landlady determined to get Hazel into her bed, and one
immediately perceives the director’s immense talent to be able to transform
these “freaks,” as O’Connor herself might have called them, into figures about
whom we still care.
Hazel may try to free himself of disciples, yet he quickly
finds a willing believer and follower in the simple-minded Emery. Although he
seems basically disinterested in the opposite sex, he immediately attracts the
eye of the prostitute, Leona Watts, the embraces of Sabbath Lily, and the
motherly fondles of Mrs. Flood. If Asa Hawkes does not have the nerve to blind
himself as evidence of his beliefs, Hazel does, ending his life as a blind man
whose body is ravaged through his self-imposed bodily tortures and his
suffering through a stormy night out of doors. In short, Hazel’s whole life
gives lie to his credo: “I don't have to run away from anything, cause I don't
believe in anything.” Huston convinces us that, in fact, Hazel believes in
almost everything, that he cares enough about the truth to even kill for it.
In the end, consequently, Hazel Mote’s last gasps, while the chattering Mrs. Flood plans out his future in her bed, seem quite meaningless; in Huston’s world he has just been, after all, another fool, a kind of kooky con-man, who, as the chorus of Iowa hucksters of The Music Man might proclaim, “doesn’t know the territory”—while the fact is that Motes knew his world better than even he might have imagined, recognizing the savagery of its demands.
Los Angeles, May 18, 2012
Reprinted from World Cinema Review (May 2012).
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