FILM REVIEW

The Killing Fields is an extraordinarily powerful film, the best new film I've

seen this year. It's a strong indictment of modern war in general and the

American conduct of the war in Cambodia in particular, but its great strength

derives from its secondary themes of the power of friendship and the

importance of a will to survive, as well as general comments on accepting

responsibility for one's actions. This rich combination of themes is what

lifts The Killing Fields above most other films.

The Killing Fields is based on a true story. Sydney Schanberg was the New York

Times correspondent to Cambodia during the 70s. He worked closely with his

interpreter, Dith Pran, a Cambodian journalist. Together, they exposed many of

the US atrocities in Cambodia which resulted from our secret war there, a

spillover from the Vietnam War. Sydney and Pran also became good friends, but

when Lon Nol's government fell and Pol Pot took over, Schanberg was able to

escape and Pran could not. As Schanberg heard more and more of the horrors of

the Pol Pot regime, Communism gone mad, he castigated himself more and more

for persuading Pran to remain even when it was no longer safe. Meanwhile, Pran

struggled to survive in a nation in which 3 million people, out of a

population of 7 million, were killed in the course of a few years.

The Killing Fields is composed of three separate segments. First, we see

Sydney and Pran at work in war-torn Cambodia. Then, as things fall apart, the

journalists seek refuge in the French embassy in Phnom Penh. Finally, Pran

tries to stay alive and escape from a hell on earth while Sydney guiltily

receives the rewards for their work in the safety of America. The filmmakers

deserve much credit for seamlessly binding together three separate stories.

The Killing Fields is very much a cohesive entity, yet, running through the

individual scenes in one's mind, it is easy to see how even slight

carelessness could have made the film into a string of marginally related

incidents. Bruce Robinson's script and Roland Joffe's direction combine to

form thematic lines which run throughout the film, holding it firmly together.

The major weakness of the film, Schanberg's disappearance from the latter

third of the film as an effective character, is a limitation of the true

story. The filmmakers are to be commended for working within this difficult

restriction rather than coming up with a cheap Hollywood rescue mission

ending. (I can too easily imagine the mess that a hack writer and a director

like Andrew McLaughlin would make of this story.)

Joffe, a BBC director, makes a fine debut. The Killing Fields is very well

directed, albeit in a somewhat impersonal style. The shots are well selected,

with an emphasis on naturalism. There are few of the flourishes which might

expected from a more strong willed director. As might be expected, most of

Joffe's most impressive sequences concern atrocities, but these are not

presented with the bloodthirsty glee so common in films nowadays. Blood is

spilled, people are killed, people are tortured, but Joffe does not show it to

us as entertainment. Rather, he makes us see that it an integral part of the

story, something we cannot just turn away from, for it explains the tragedy of

Cambodia.

Joffe is just the sort of director that appeals to producer David Puttnam.

Puttnam, who previously produced Chariots of Fire and several other fine

films, is a producer from the old school. His films are really his. Puttnam is

the major creative force behind The Killing Fields. The success of the film is

due less to individual excellence than inspired balancing of all of its

elements. Each creative position has been filled by a fine craftsman who

shares the common vision. Puttnam's genius is less for choosing perfect

material for films than his ability to see what he wants and find people who

can make his vision come to the screen. It may not sound like a very

impressive talent, but Puttnam is the only working producer who consistently

displays it. (Of course, most Americans never see Puttnam's failures, like

Those Glory, Glory Days. Even taking these into account, though, Puttnam has a

unique ability for perceptive synthesis.)

While all elements of The Killing Fields are laudable, some deserve special

attention. The performances of Sam Waterston and Dr. Haing S. Ngor in the

leading roles are vital to the film's success. Waterston is a fine actor who

combines the rare traits of decency and intelligence. He's been performing in

supporting roles in American pictures (The Great Gatsby, Rancho Deluxe, and

Heaven's Gate) and leading roles in British films (Sweet William, Eagle's

Wing) for some years, but has never broken through with a major role in a

major American picture. He reminds me of James Stewart, with a bit less

naivete. I have always liked his work, particularly his role as the narrator

of The Great Gatsby. He gives another fine performance in The Killing Fields,

delicately balancing ambition and conscience. Dr. Ngor is not a professional

actor. Dith Pran is his first role. However, he survived through experiences

in Cambodia remarkably similar to Pran's. As a result, the truth of his

performance shines through any technical inexperiences. We believe his

sufferings and sacrifices, perhaps because he can pull them, direct and

horrid, from his own memory.

The supporting cast is also sturdy. John Malkovich, last seen as the blind

boarder in Places in the Heart, plays a hot tempered photographer. Such a

different role, so convincingly portrayed, is bound to do his career good. Our

gain, too, for we can always use more good actors. Craig T. Nelson

demonstrates that he has the lock on middle level military authority figures,

playing yet another Air Force officer. Fans of Call To Glory can get some

cheap kicks figuring out if the character is the same in TV show and movie. It

would certainly add some interesting dimensions to the TV show if he were.

Athol Fugard and Bill Paterson have fairly small supporting roles as other

journalists.

The photography is excellent. Yet again I find myself without the name of a

key figure, in this case the cinematographer. I must start taking a notebook

to movies. At any rate, he blends the beauty of the Cambodian countryside

(actually neighboring Thailand) with the horrors of war. The battle footage is

convincingly like documentary footage from Vietnam in style, though better in

technical quality. The cinematographer and Joffe deserve credit for not

showing us Cambodia as an exotic, foreign place full of incomprehensible

things. Rather, they present the similarities amid the differences. We cannot

merely dismiss The Killing Fields as more mysterious Asians mistreating each

other, and Westerners, for their own inscrutable reasons. We must face their

actions as the natural consequences of modern war and fanatical ideology

anywhere.

The Killing Fields is not a tutorial on American atrocities in Cambodia.

Little time is spent moaning about how we have destroyed the country in our

typically heartless American way. None the less, the subtext definitely

presents American thoughtlessness and callousness as a primary cause of

Cambodia's suffering, and the specific destruction of Cambodia through

saturation bombing is far from overlooked. Joffe and Oldfield do not settle

for the cheap and popular solution of saying that it's all the fault of the

rotten 'ol USA, though. Cambodia owes part of its problems to Vietnam, and

part to itself, and The Killing Fields, in the same low key way it points the

finger at the US, indicts these other forces.

The human, more than the political, is the core of The Killing Fields.

Fundamentally, this is not a film about one war in one place, but about the

ravages of war in general. The specific villains are of less concern to the

filmmakers than the motives behind the villainy, motives all too common in the

world. The success of the film is due to the skillful, but unmanipulative,

counterposing of the power of friendship. The Killing Fields is not an easy

movie, but it is a very fine one.