Mutiny on the Bounty

This is a marvelous movie in a couple respects.

One is the thrill of the ship, a thrill that is more effective in its way than anything modern. Compare this to "Master and Commander," in which the ship existed only as an assembly of parts which we knew would noisily disassemble.

I suppose may would celebrate the performances. Well, yeah, I suppose. Or the location shots which are honest but oddly out of place.

What gives me a thrill is how well assembled this was from the editor's point of view. These were days when the job was really nasty work, huge rooms, hanging films, tedious looping and physical taping. It was an unappreciated creative task, and because the studio system had restrictive philosophies in how it was done, it was essentially a task for clerks.

The editor in Hollywood wouldn't be appreciated until the late sixties when "Easy Rider" spawned the independent movement. Here's a tremendous example of the value of the editor.

In this case its Margaret Booth, who sorta followed a secretarial path to head the editing department at the studio, then the center of film-making for the world, moneywise. For the most part she followed the rules. But here for some reason she did something quite different than usual.

Consider. The challenges of this story are significant. There's a long, very long first segment of the voyage out where we are shown the reason for the complaints. Because the nature of shipyard life and the complications of the conflict are pretty complex, this cannot be shorter.

Then there's a segment in Tahiti where some love happens. This is as short as possible, but because it has to balance the weight of confinement and at the same time justify (for us) the location shooting, its still long.

Then a segment of the mutiny itself. Then the longish voyage of Bligh. The chase, the escape, the trail, the coda. Now that's an awful lot. Too much by double, even compared to "Gone with the Wind."

I'd like to direct your attention to "Gladiator," and Ridley Scott's technique of shaping each scene so that it is open at the end, not closed. Its open in a way that anticipates the next. In a regular movie, each scene is dispensed as a discrete, readable segment that opens and closes. It is the job of the story and associated elements to keep us engaged.

In Gladiator, the story is too diffuse, so Scott shapes the scenes (and Crowe) so that each scene has its center of gravity in the next. We tip into the future. Its a joy to watch even if the thing itself is a bit inelegant.

Watch that, then see what Maggie has done here, apparently without the help or even knowledge of the directors. She's assembled the footage in a way that's open at the end, anticipatory. It isn't — alas — a simple matter of cutting scenes short, or overlapping sound (which would come later). Its a matter of tuning into the very subtle rhythms of a setup, then ending it at a midbeat. Without the patterning of jazz from the period, we wouldn't have been able to read the subliminal syncopation.

But here it is, as a sort of micromutiny. Thanks, Ms Booth.

Oh, the story? They forgot to include the cabinboy. Funny how the British navy conveniently forgets the institutional buggery.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.