[LEVIATHAN screens Tuesday May 21st at 7:00 pm at the Capitol Theatre in association with the Cleveland Cinematheque.]
Review by Charles Cassady, Jr.

Yes, I dream a lot about how I would
conduct myself with loads of money. But how to get it? Certainly not
by writing about movies, I learned that the hard way. Whilst
authoring a couple of books about the Great Lakes, I did find a
certain romantic appeal in the idea that, had circumstances of my
life gone along a radically different course, I might have become a
Great Lakes sailor. Has to be a more noble and honorable profession
than writing up SAW sequels for the weekly rag, correct? And
there would possibly be a decent paycheck in it as well.
Well, here to scare me straight,
belatedly, is LEVIATHAN. No, not the 1989 GMO sea-monster
movie that tried to cash in on James Cameron’s THE ABYSS.
This is a documentary, of sorts, that bids to be the total-immersion
experience in life aboard a stormswept (at least it appears to be
that way) New England fishing vessel.
Allow me a slight digression: a decade
ago or so there was a Great Lakes sailor, Ray Meyers, I believe his
name was, who had a sideline of shooting VHS home movies during his
voyage aboard the mighty haulers and freighters of the inland seas.
This material he would copy and package and sell to the public, at
dive shops and the like, for the edification of maritime-fanciers who
wanted to experience vicariously the sense of life on board a working
ship. The tapes were no-frills, narration-free scenes of massive
steel vessels going in and out of ports and canal locks, the views of
assorted bays, maybe a storm or two. I think he told me he actually
had a lightning strike caught on video. It was for the specialty
audience of boatspotters and ship fanciers.
Now, imagine that guy with a fat arts
grant and one heckuva tough, waterproof HD digital-video camera. You
have LEVIATHAN, a non-narrative nonfiction from Lucian
Castaing-Taylor and Verene Paravel, showing the regular routine
aboard a New England fishing trawler. Since none of you have likely
heard of poor old Ray Meyers, then picture LEVIATHAN instead
as something like the stripped-down art-house version of TV's The
Deadliest Catch.
Hand-held, chaotic imagery, bordering
at times on the abstract, plunges us into a tempestuous world of
anchor chains, barely-glimpsed men in rain slickers shouting orders,
as the ocean's harvest is dredged and netted from the deeps. Many
times we literally don't know whether it's day or night or which end
is topside, as the lens shows a flock of seagulls - ever accompanying
the giant fishing trawler looking for handouts - reflected
mirror-like in the water (or something) and practically
indistinguishable from the fractal roilings of Atlantic sea foam.
The nets dump numerous fish and marine
organisms into a hold. Men stoically sort, gut and fillet the
unfortunate creatures (maybe some of the rays get thrown back; others
seem to be cut up on the spot for chum), leaving a mass of sea
creatures, most dead and a few still living, sliding back and forth
in the briny hold. One greedy gull also finds itself trapped in
there; since the bird shows no fear of the camera, I must assume the
rig was unattended or otherwise remote-controlled. The filmmakers did
leave some cameras around like that, including tethered to floatation
devices on the water.
We do see the crew, in dialogue-free
glimpses of big, beefy guys wordlessly carrying out the grubby prep
work, showering or sitting idly in the galley. Someone I take to be
the skipper is listening to blasting grindcore rock and roll on his
radio; I would have hoped for Billy Joel, thanks to "Downeaster
Alexa," but I guess not. One stereotyped is confirmed, though -
even today, sailors have mermaids tattooed on their biceps. Sailors
and people in jail really ought to be the only folks with tattoos -
they've paid the dues.
As transfixing as the DV imagery
sometimes is, I have to say a little of this does tend to go a long
way. And I could imagine that watching LEVIATHAN on a big
screen, instead of a little preview DVD as I netted, could be a whole
different experience. As in seasick.
Still, the picture ends with a memorial
roll call of those lost at sea off Massachusetts in pursuit of this
kind of work, and that might bring into focus the hazards faced by
those whom Victor Hugo called the `toilers of the sea.' Not to
mention what kind of stress and sacrifice exactly goes into bringing
all that seafood to restaurants and grocery chains. In that way, the
movie outpaced for me a European nonfiction essay on mechanized food
production, OUR DAILY BREAD,
that frankly left me cold. Almost as cold, at this point, as
my plans to run away to sea and become the world's oldest cabin boy.
Or official ship's critic. (2 3/4 out of 4 stars)
Sorry but this filmmaker is full of it. The film is a waste of our good time, better spent sleeping than watching...
ReplyDeleteJust because you are a Harvard professor and go out to sea and get wet and bumped around does NOT make your footage worth seeing. A real tough editing is needed here, such as when I ran this dvd at quadruple fast forward, reducing it to just a few minutes. Even then, some scenes should be deleted.
Were they really surprised that all flesh food on the plate comes at a high price? Do all these film reviewers and their academic buddies never think about food, until they find themselves on the deck of a trawler? Hey !--HEY! that is real life--and real DEATH, get it Prof???
Eat some vegetables if you are so guilty, but keep this stuff as a home movie; "What I Did on My Sabbatical..."
Sound was unhearable, in fact frustrating, more informative as silent on fast forward! And that essay by Cyril Neyrat? Not only must it have been poorly translated, it was written in garbage-academese...sincerely hope no one got tenure for that!