Danny Ratcliff (dannyratcliff)

When I was a kid there was this series on called Moviedrome on BBC2, as I remember it was on late on sunday nights, presented by someone (I NOW know to be Alex Cox) who spoke about films the way I felt about them - with passion, like they were friends that he was introducing/showing off to you. The series always aired the sort of films that you just wouldn't see anywhere else and were presented in a way that made them even more special. When I first saw Brazil I must have been around thirteen and my life wasn't going too great - the film's metaphors seemed to resonate incredibly with things that were happening to me at the time. As I've grown up watching it, it's layers seem to reveal more and more about the human condition and our will to break free from a seemingly (although never truly defined in the film) autocratic state, something which (perhaps a little melodramatically) I've sought to do my entire life. In between my scores of viewings of the film, I have read and seen many other books/films following a similar theme (1984 being the most obvious) but none seem to capture the innocence of Sam Lowry's dreams of a life outside the confines of his grey totalitarian existence. In his films since Brazil, I think only The Fisher King holds such a pure and wholesome desire line for the protaganist (perhaps this is a product of the blurring between right and wrong in the worlds of his later works) and I think that this is what struck a chord with me as a kid. Despite feeling as though I was becoming a man, like Lowry I was still naive and childlike inside, and felt that only real true love could help me escape my trouble. The broader understanding of film I've gained over the years has helped me enjoy this film all the more, but every time I see it, I'm still carried away with Sam as he soars toward Jill and freedom, only to be met with dread as the prison builds itself around him once again, while the ending carries easily as much resonance as that of 1984. I couldn't imagine not having this film in my life, and would recommend it to anyone who genuinely feels that they're trapped in a life over which they have (and have never REALLY had) any control, and I feel that with the world advancing in the way it is, it carries more weight as the years pass. If you're able to get the Criterion edition of the film, I'd recommend seeing all of the versions of the film, starting with the "Hollywood" version, as each one reveals a little more of Gilliam's genius, (ironically) illustrating the nature of the system that stifles HIS dreams and their route to us.

Many people compare this film to the works of Frank Capra, and I have to agree - to a point. The thing that seperates Shawshank from Capra's best works and puts it SO high on my list is the depth of character study in the supporting cast. Morgan Freeman (who, in the novella was actually a ginger irishman!) is absolutely superb, bringing real gravitas as the narrator, I can't think of another actor who could have played his role with such finesse. Bob Gunton is superb as the egomaniacal Warden, providing the spearhead of the trident of evil that seeks to crush Andy Dufresne's spirit, together with prisoner Bogs and Captain Hadley, who each have their own agenda, but quickly find themselves no match for Andy's guile. Where Shawshank transcends Capra's work, and indeed every other film in this genre is the depth and intensity of the hero's opponents - it is their actions which crystalise our will for Andy to overcome them and for justice to prevail. Perhaps the most poignant subplot is that of Brooks, who, after spending his entire life within the confines of Shawshank finds himself thrust out into a world he neilther can or will comprehend. This foreshadowing bodes ill for Red's eventual release, but on the off-chance that you haven't seen this wonderful film, I'll stop there. The spine of the picture is hope and, well, redemption, depicting a man determined not to be broken, despite overwhelming odds. Given that Darabont had precious little experience of dealing with anything of this size or scope before, it is all the more impressive that the film holds such resonance. There are precious few Stephen King stories that have been translated to the screen with anything approaching this level of elegance and dexterity and it is truly a credit to Frank Darabont that he has managed to capture this author's genius so succinctly. In any other year, I think this film would have made more of an impact at the Academy Awards, but despite this, I believe The Shawshank Redemption will continue to be shared as an intelligent, compassionate, sometimes harrowing personal story for genereations to come.