40 years since Apocalypse Now (1979)




The howwor…the howwor…

I recently had the luck to attend a screening of the brand new 4k cut of a Coppola classic that has been imitated, parodied, and misquoted uncountable times over the last forty years. It’s also incredibly long (and in my case was made even longer when the screening suffered an unfortunate power cut). Nevertheless, Apocalypse Now remains a technical masterwork that encapsulates the themes of insanity and pointless warfare, with iconic performances from everyone between Martin Sheen and Marlon Brando. The film’s production was, much like the war it portrays, an insane nightmare that left many in the kind of drugged-up haze only the seventies could provide—and in some ways, perhaps adding to the dreamlike, bad trip atmosphere of this epic.

You probably know the gist of the story—a troubled US officer in Vietnam played by Sheen is recruited by his shady superiors to track down Colonel Kurtz, played by Brando. Kurtz has gone rogue and is committing heinous acts in the jungle, like murders, mutilations, and reading pretentious poetry. Boarding a boat to head along the Vietnamese rivers to Kurtz’s location, Sheen is joined by a not entirely co-operative crew, including a positively baby-faced young Lawrence Fishburne (who began filming when he was only fourteen) and Frederic Forrest. On the way, they encounter everything from demented officers more concerned about catching good surfing waves than the battle around them, wild tigers, striptease shows that go badly wrong, and in this cut, a stubborn French family. The soundtrack, combining everything from acid rock to synth to Wagner, adds to the chaotic feel that permeates the bloody insanity of the war—and insanity is a strong theme throughout it all indeed. 

Insanity was also how the filmmaking went. First of all, the man besides Coppola who drove the project was John Milius—who, by Hollywood standards, is a bit of an oddball. Suffice it to say that Charlie Sobczak in The Big Lebowski was directly inspired by him—and Milius indeed is that sort of person who’s right-wing but not entirely, conservative yet happy to hang around liberals, and so on. As such, it’s easy to see his take on the contradictions of war and the handling of it by governments here—but there’s also some unclearness as to how much of it reflects his own feelings. Nevertheless, the slightly demented Milius proved an apt fit; his first choice for director was none other than Coppola’s friend, George Lucas. Lucas ended up being too busy with a little thing called Star Wars, but he did give Coppola some much-needed worry when he hit it big with that one.

On filming in the Philippines, everything that could go wrong did. A hurricane wrecked the production, extending the shoot by so long that the teenage Fishburne reached adulthood by the time it was finished. New locations bounced all over the place, from the western Pacific to California, and Coppola had to wrangle every ounce of credit from everything he had. It was chaotic enough that books and documentaries have been made of it—and even, indirectly, a film you might’ve heard of called Tropic Thunder.

Brando eventually showed up—and it turned out he was a big player in Hollywood in every sense of the word. Learning that his star liked pork chops to much to properly film some intended scenes, Coppola had to keep Marlon mostly in shadow, dressing him in black to blend him in with those backgrounds, and using all sorts of smart camera tricks and body doubles. You still feel Kurtz’s presence as such through the film in the form of audio tapes, meaning that his eventual appearance, emerging from the darkness, hits all the more.

And that’s the lesson from Apocalypse Now—that despite the shit you go through, persevering and believing in your product will turn out something that really is a product of passion. The helicopter assault scene in particular, complete with Ride of the Valkyries and surf colonels, is one of my favorite cinematic sequences period, amazingly shot and directed with nothing but the real thing before the lens. And though the cast might’ve been harried and taxed by the exhausting shoot, in many ways, that’s exactly the sort of emotional state you want when you’re playing ‘Nam vets tired of the madness and blood. Apocalypse Now was in many ways a culmination of the post-Vietnam seventies malaise, and brings it all to the forefront in a very memorable experience.

Of course, the eighties would soon come along with very different takes on Vietnam, such as Rambo 2. Milius went on to work with other cult productions, such as Conan the Barbarian, bringing some weird muscleman from Austria to the forefront, and eventually Red Dawn in 1984, which we’ll get to soon. Between all this, it’s not surprising that some things from Apocalypse Now get taken out of context in a more jingoistic way—we all know ‘I love the smell of napalm in the morning’, which is often quoted in a triumphant way, but the actual delivery in the film reflects something more akin to jaded weariness. Probably how the actual actor was feeling by then.

I heartily recommend the gorgeous 4k cut if you can still manage to see it. It’s not as long as the Redux one, but it’ll be one long sitting, and hopefully not one with unexpected delays as I had. And though some of the scenes that Coppola longed to insert, like the one in the French villa, might feel slightly padded (though it does reinforce the themes throughout the film)—it’s those iconic shots, be it the nighttime bridge battle, Brando in the darkness, and of course, Sheen emerging from the water, that make it all worth it. Grab your surfboard and give it a watch if you haven’t.

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