Weir's fascination with the mystical and magical has taken him to places where most filmmakers would never dare to venture for fear of obscuring or losing the audience. He is Australian and maintains that connection through many of his films, but has also stepped out of this comfort zone and into the international; away from the cultural cringe and tall poppy syndrome that raided our media and arts for so long and I think still to an extent does so. Weir is a good choice, perhaps not just for the geographical proximity of Australia to Indonesia and how he understands how to use the landscape as a way of building character (see The Last Wave), but also for the way in which the expatriate stumbles in his navigation of the new environment, buffeted by the cultural shift and on permanent unease and wariness. We sense this is something that Weir is quite familiar with.
A young Gibson is therefore perfect for the role of Guy Hamilton; an immature, fresh-faced reporter thrust into a role a great deal more important than himself, he has that vitality and zest that you cannot get with an older portrayal. Most people have gone through the same period - the one in which your future aspirations aim higher than the clouds and you feel ready to change the world. Guy is rough on the edges and easily distracted when he sees the white jewel in a murky, foreign forest, but initially, perhaps, he has those qualities. To the extent that he maintains them is where we lose track a little, but he shows enough promise to be taken under the wing by the local veteran, Billy Kwan, diminutive in stature but not in courage.
Linda Hunt's portrayal has been praised widely and deservedly - she in herself has created so many layers of sexual ambiguity and mystery that aren't explored, and ultimately the character is reduced to a rather pointless sacrificial lamb (she dies for a tiny, insignificant cause which leads nowhere except to highlight the moral danger that is all around this politically charged country), but she has done more than enough to keep us guessing long after her demise. Kwan is an extension of Weir's mystical; less person or dwarf, and more a creature of great passion and emotional capability that feels a sense of moral debt to those around him and goes to great lengths to pay it off. She is almost positioned on another layer from the narrative itself at times; the cryptic voice-over revisiting its own plans and devices and muttering on the happenings and progress of these...like a guide that introduces you to a strange, new world at the beginning of a video game only to chastise and take back its godlike power when you stray down the wrong path or kill the wrong targets.
But the message itself seems contradictory. Kwan bestows great responsibility and opportunity onto Guy - including positioning him with a make or break story that could potentially save many lives. But he also criticises him for his nobler intentions; he would give up the whole world for Jill, he claims, and has mistakenly thought that Guy too would do the same. Eventually he does go along those lines. After a rather tame rise to the challenge that rewards him with a busted eye, he rationalises that his love for Jill is more important and scurries away. Is it wrong to expect more of a character in this situation? The film poses so many questions of its political environment but shys away from answering all but the trivial ones. Weir's vision is limited by its caricatures, and in the end the noble white man has not even risen to the challenge, but run away from it (hand in hand with the fair maiden). And Weir, incredulously, frames this as an epiphany, as a coming to the senses.
A young Gibson is therefore perfect for the role of Guy Hamilton; an immature, fresh-faced reporter thrust into a role a great deal more important than himself, he has that vitality and zest that you cannot get with an older portrayal. Most people have gone through the same period - the one in which your future aspirations aim higher than the clouds and you feel ready to change the world. Guy is rough on the edges and easily distracted when he sees the white jewel in a murky, foreign forest, but initially, perhaps, he has those qualities. To the extent that he maintains them is where we lose track a little, but he shows enough promise to be taken under the wing by the local veteran, Billy Kwan, diminutive in stature but not in courage.
Linda Hunt's portrayal has been praised widely and deservedly - she in herself has created so many layers of sexual ambiguity and mystery that aren't explored, and ultimately the character is reduced to a rather pointless sacrificial lamb (she dies for a tiny, insignificant cause which leads nowhere except to highlight the moral danger that is all around this politically charged country), but she has done more than enough to keep us guessing long after her demise. Kwan is an extension of Weir's mystical; less person or dwarf, and more a creature of great passion and emotional capability that feels a sense of moral debt to those around him and goes to great lengths to pay it off. She is almost positioned on another layer from the narrative itself at times; the cryptic voice-over revisiting its own plans and devices and muttering on the happenings and progress of these...like a guide that introduces you to a strange, new world at the beginning of a video game only to chastise and take back its godlike power when you stray down the wrong path or kill the wrong targets.
But the message itself seems contradictory. Kwan bestows great responsibility and opportunity onto Guy - including positioning him with a make or break story that could potentially save many lives. But he also criticises him for his nobler intentions; he would give up the whole world for Jill, he claims, and has mistakenly thought that Guy too would do the same. Eventually he does go along those lines. After a rather tame rise to the challenge that rewards him with a busted eye, he rationalises that his love for Jill is more important and scurries away. Is it wrong to expect more of a character in this situation? The film poses so many questions of its political environment but shys away from answering all but the trivial ones. Weir's vision is limited by its caricatures, and in the end the noble white man has not even risen to the challenge, but run away from it (hand in hand with the fair maiden). And Weir, incredulously, frames this as an epiphany, as a coming to the senses.