Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003)

It is 1805, Napoleon is conquering Europe and only the tiny island nation of Great Britain with her mighty naval fleet stands in the way of the French emperor claiming the world. At the furthest ends of the earth, the southern tip of South America, the British captain "Lucky" Jack Aubrey (Russell Crowe) leads his crew in pursuit of a French war vessel, the Acheron, in attempt to claim her as their prize. The Acheron proves to be a formidable foe and an elusive one, and amidst Capt. Aubrey's struggles with God and nature, friendship and duty, he must simply try to hold fast.

Looking like some forgotten Rembrandt painting set in motion to the ebbs and swells of the tides, the majestically shot "Master and Commander" is a rousing war film whose detailed attention to life at sea sets it apart from others in its likeness. The battles are few and far in between which has probably irked quite a few audience members hoping to see non-stop action, though the two major skirmishes which bookend the film are expertly choreographed, bloody and beautiful.

Through most of the film, however, a somber, even delicate pace is set as we sail the seas with Jack and his crew. It might have grown tedious watching men deal with seasickness, rationing, class differences, men overboard, floggings, superstitious sailors and all other ocean bound cliches thrown into the mix, were the characters not all so well developed and the movie made with such artistry. It is not a story about epic fighting, it is one about men, and those are the best of war films.

Set to the music of Mozart, Bach, and my personal favorite, Boccherini, the image of the 19th Century Englishman is one painted in romantic and illustrious hews. Here we have what I as an historian love most: the British Empire depicted in all of its ambitious glory. The concept of the empire fascinates me; there is something incredibly endearing to me about a world in which men were men and their word was law. It was a racist and misogynistic time, but those words were not coined and therefore irrelevant. What is relevant is that men were educated, well-rounded, had excellent manners and impeccable etiquette, had pride in themselves and their nation, and in general had a curiosity about the world. Director Peter Weir has captured all of these qualities in one very fine picture.

I first saw "Master and Commander" in theaters when I was 13-years-old and was utterly blown away by certain scenes. There are images from the movie which have stayed in my head since that initial viewing, and upon rewatching it I found that they had not diminished or altered with age. I expect it would be difficult to watch the film without having profound respect for the men who actually lived these lives. I certainly felt emasculated watch a man perform surgery on himself.

I realized this last time why I remembered these scenes so vividly. Weir has a firm grasp of the concept that when creating a suspenseful scene, less is more. In watching an arm being amputated or the doctor opening himself up, or Jack approaching the Acheron, hidden in mist, it is not what you see that is important, but the holes the audience fills in for themselves. Only once do we ever get a good look at the enemy, and that's why this film is so successful at what it does. Not only is it a masterfully made movie with excellent special effects and fantastic cinematography, it also knows that the greatest adventure is in the minds of men. No matter how grizzly or frightening or gripping a scene may be done in full view, what is left to the imagination is always far more interesting.

3.5/4