A fair share of trouble in paradise in 'The Beach'
By Oren Murphy
JAKARTA (JP): For anyone who has spent more than a couple of nights in ratty boardinghouses somewhere in Asia, Danny Boyle's (Trainspotting) latest film, The Beach, will bring back memories, fond or otherwise.
The film comments on many of the ironies inherent in backpacker culture in Southeast Asia, as tourists search for the new and exotic only to create the familiar and comfortable. We see what lengths people go to escape themselves, and their willful denial of reality in exchange for their prescripted ideas of what they should find in paradise.
The Beach is not a bad film as far as films go. The script has some great moments and the gorgeous cinematography, including slow pans of the stunning beach in question, consistently enhance the film's progress. So why does the film fade from mind faster than the audience leaving the theater?
The film, based on the popular novel of the same title by Alex Garland, tells the story of a backpacker, Richard (Leonardo DiCaprio), in Thailand, who, like every other backpacker, dreams of finding something exotic and untainted.
Staying in a backpackers' guesthouse in Bangkok he meets Daffy, a slightly crazy Scot who tells him of a mysterious beach on a deserted island, untouched by the hordes of parasitic tourists that swarm over the rest of Thailand. This perfect beach sounds like an urban myth, and the mystery shrouding it is further enhanced when Daffy leaves Richard a map to the beach and then slits his wrists.
Richard decides to set out in pursuit of the island with a French couple, Etienne (Guillaume Canet) and Francoise (Virginie Ledoyen), as traveling companions. Richard has a burning crush on Francoise and we are given clues as subtle as anvils that Richard is going to get his woman in the end.
They make it to the island and find the perfect beach as well as a secret backpacker commune; "a beach resort for people who don't like beach resorts." Things are great for a while: Richard gets his gal, their outdoor recreation calendar is packed and the water is blue.
But paradise being paradise, trouble is not far around the corner. There are intruders in paradise, skeletons in the closet and people die.
The film explores human nature and human interaction in the commune in much the same way as the classic book Lord of the Flies. The backpackers develop their own laws and rules to fit the needs of their hedonistic society. However, the stresses put on the society through shark attacks and protecting their secrecy from unwanted guests create fissures which later develop into full-blown conflicts.
The film has a moralizing streak in it, although its insights seem somewhat shallow. We are solemnly informed by DiCaprio that the unadulterated pursuit of pleasure has its costs. Herein lies one of the film's first stumbling blocks: Leonardo DiCaprio as moral guide requires a strenuous suspension of disbelief for anyone over the age of 13.
The gravity of the lessons learned by Richard is undermined by the appearance that they have come to him at little cost. He ruined what appeared to be a happy relationship between Francoise and Etienne, and then ruined his own relationship with Francoise. This does not seem to particularly bother him, nor does abetting a murder later on. In the end, he still escapes from the island, receives cheery e-mails from Francoise at Internet cafes and waxes philosophical on all the deep lessons he has learned during his really cool trip to Thailand. His is a philosophy best pondered stoned.
The flimsiness of the film's moral motor is attributable to both the erratic adaptation of the novel into a movie and DiCaprio's lackluster performance. The appropriateness of the casting choice is questionable, particularly given that Richard, in the novel, is British.
A Ewan McGregor-type would have been perfect for the part. DiCaprio brings little to the role other than a name larger than the acting abilities attached to it, and a self-satisfaction that does not seem fitting for the introspective and insightful narrator he is supposed to play.
Losing empathy for the narrator sounds a death knell for the film's overall capacity to impress itself on the audience. At the end of the day, we care very little for what happens to any of the characters, dead or alive.
The happy exceptions to this are the Thai marijuana farmers living on the island who, even after they kill four tourists, appear to be the most reasonable people there. The lead farmer presents a compelling portrait of a man fed up with dealing with stupid tourists living out their exotic fantasies. He gives a short speech to the backpackers on how more tourists means trouble for him.
Trouble for him means he cannot feed his family, so the tourists must leave. Well spoken and exhaustively argued! It is indicative of something (I do not know what) that the clear logic of his diatribe in broken English leaves Richard's deep thoughts looking vapid.
The film hits its best notes when it skips didacticism and sticks to the novel's small insights into backpacker culture and human nature. One such insight emerges during the initial build up of sexual tension between Richard and Francoise, when Richard gives a humorous commentary on the fallibility of infatuation.
These unassuming moments, which permeate the book, ring true and give an affability to the story's protagonist. Unfortunately for the film, they get lost in the shuffle of high drama, sexual intrigue and a lot of white sand.