Don't Make a Scene: The Wind and the Lion

For the next few weeks, our "Don't Make a Scene" feature will be doing a series we call "The Gospel According to...", in which a main character reveals their philosophy, and a little about themselves in the process.  Hope you enjoy it.

The Gospel According to Theodore Roosevelt

The Set-Up:  The Wind and the Lion is John Milius' fanciful retelling of an episode lost to history (until he brought it up)—the kidnapping of an American diplomat in Morocco by Berber pirates.  Of course, the actual incident was resolved without all the machinations, mayhem, and explosions of the film...and there is the small matter that the ambassador was a man...not a woman.

But what fun would that be?

No, this is history writ large, and blown up to distorted proportions. It needed to be to accommodate the characters Milius chose to inhabit this story: the man who instituted the crisis, the Raisuli (played magnificently, if improbably, by Sean Connery—with Scottish burr intact), and the then-President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt (maybe the best role Brian Keith ever played).

Milius must have fancied this an "alternative" history while he was writing it.  For instance, in the description, he refers to reporters being from the "Kane" papers (as in Charles Foster Kane, the fictional newspaper magnate from Citizen Kane), not the Hearst papers.  Also, and I found this particularly charming, he wrote the screenplay in the past tense. 

Of course.

But, The Wind and the Lion was an opportunity for Milius to write for one of his favorite figures in history, President Theodore Roosevelt, with all the brio, the bluster, and the b.s. that "Teddy" could spew, holding court.  There is very little action for Roosevelt in this film—most of that is happening in Morocco—as he merely does Presidential things and use his "bully" pulpit.  As his daughter Alice (played in the film by Deborah Baxter) remarked about him: "He wants to be the bride at every wedding, the corpse at every funeral, and the baby at every christening."  The man did like being the center of attention.  And he is portrayed that way in this film, except for one rare private moment at the end.

This post will be up for the Fourth of July, and usually, I put up the montage sequence from Mr. Smith Goes to Washington around this time.  This year, though, rather than celebrating, we'll ruminate with Mr. Roosevelt about the American Character through the pen of John Milius.

Happy Birthday, America.

The Story: President Theodore Roosevelt (Brian Keith) is enjoying his days as President.  He is building the Panama Canal, and running for another term.  But there is always something—in this case, the kidnapping of the widow of an American diplomat, Eden Pedacaris (Candice Bergen) by Mulay Ahmed Muhamed Raisuli the Magnificent, sherif of the Riffian Berbers (Sean Connery) half a world away in Morocco.


Action!

Additions to the script are in green.  Deletions are in red.

CAMP ON THE YELLOWSTONE
DUSK

SCOUT: What'ya bring in, Colonel?

ROOSEVELT: Brought us some venison and a cougar.

ROOSEVELT: Heard about the bear...

ROOSEVELT: ...have you?
SCOUT: Big one, I heard...

COOK: Coffee, Mr. President?

Roosevelt stood next to an enormous grizzly bear skin and head. Around him were various reporters for magazines such as "Colliers" and "The Nation" as well as those representing the Kane newspapers. He held the grizzly's head up.

REPORTER I: Is that the bear?

ROOSEVELT: This is the bear that attacked the horse camp at dawn.

ROOSEVELT: He knew that men would be asleep or at their worst at dawn.

ROOSEVELT: It, of course, as you've heard, injured one of the Indians severely...

ROOSEVELT: ...as well as killing several horses.
REPORTER I: Did you, yourself, participate in stopping the bear, Mr. President?

ROOSEVELT: I regret to say, yes.
REPORTER: Why do you regret, Mr. President?

ROOSEVELT: Because he's a fine creature.

ROOSEVELT: This was his valley.

ROOSEVELT: This valley belonged to this bear. We were the intruders here.

ROOSEVELT: We're used to animals taking flight at the sight of a man with a gun, but a grizzly bear fears nothing. Not man, not guns, not death.

REPORTER: Do you intend to have that bear as a rug in the White House, Mr. President?
ROOSEVELT: Rug? No!

ROOSEVELT: No, I intend to have him stuffed and placed on exhibit in the Smithsonian Institute. He is a magnificent specimen. The grizzly bear, you know, is the true symbol of American character.

ROOSEVELT: Strength, intelligence, ferocity, courage --

ROOSEVELT: A little blind and reckless, perhaps, but courageous beyond doubt.

ROOSEVELT: Oh, and one other trait that goes with all the previous.

REPORTER: And that, Mr. President?

ROOSEVELT: Loneliness.

ROOSEVELT: The grizzly bear must live out his life alone -- indomitable, unconquered, but always alone. He has no real allies, only enemies...

ROOSEVELT: ...and none of them as great as he.
REPORTER: You feel this is...

REPORTER:  ...an American trait?
ROOSEVELT: Certainly, the world will never love us. They respect us... 

ROOSEVELT: ...they might even grow to fear us...

ROOSEVELT: ...but they'll never love us. We have too much audacity...

ROOSEVELT: ...and we are a little blind and reckless at times.
REPORTER: Are you referring to the Panama Canal and the  situation in Morocco?

ROOSEVELT: If you say so...

He looked back at the bear.


ROOSEVELT: Yes, the grizzly bear embodies the spirit of America. It should be our symbol, not that ridiculous eagle which is no more than a dandified vulture.

ROOSEVELT:  "...dandified."

The Wind and the Lion

Words by John Milius

Pictures by Billy Williams and John Milius

The Wind and the Lion is available on DVD from MGM Home Video.

Olde Review: The Wind and the Lion

Written November 7th, 1975

"The Wind and the Lion" (John Milius, 1975) I avoid seeing films twice unless I really, really love the flm (due to a lack of funds).* When I saw "The Wind and the Lion" the first time, it was as if I was seeing two movies at time. The dialog was really wretched ("Mulai--that's a nice name"), but at the same time the photography, direction and editing were all fabulous. It was a film that had "sweep" (I assume that when a film has "sweep," the camera tends to move along a field, up a wall, through a street, "sweep" through the visual plane of the camera. Oh, but does this movie do that!) "The Wind and the Lion" just swells with movement of all kinds--inside the frame and the frame outside itself.

John Milius is a director I don't tend to think much of. I wasn't too fond of his "Dillinger" film, some good things, but not wholly satisfying. But his direction in 'Wind & Lion" is just marvelous. Some of the shots combined with Jerry Goldsmith's score** are just chillingly beautiful: The trucking shot along a line of berbers silhouetted against a sunset;

A diagonally rising crane-shot that drifts over a dune as an entire army of berbers move down a road while a dark, cloudy sky presses down on the whole scene;

After the Raisuli (Sean Connery) has killed off the final horseman at the leper colony (that was the impression I got anyway) Milius cuts to a stunning shot of Eden Pedecaris (Candice Bergen) watching behind a net in the right foreground, while against a low sun on the ocean-tide, the Raisuli slows his horse and the now-riderless horse of his opponent still charges across the screen;

Theodore Roosevelt (Brian Keith) and "his" bear towering over him, as he reads the "Wind and the Lion" letter.

The second time around, my appreciation of the Milius direction grew. It was what I concentrated on throughout and because of it, the dialog that I was uneasy about went down easer and (My God!) some of that dialog was downright poetic. Roosevelt's speech about the bear as the U.S, symbol, his getting on his desk and growling at the camera for the Smithsonian--things that made me squirm in my seat before--I enjoyed this time around.

This movie is flawed to be sure. Some of the writing is still bad. There are inaccuracies in technique and in history. *** The fellow I went to see it with thought there were too many "riding-in-the desert" shots for his taste, but not for mine. And I heartily enjoyed myself and the film.

I still enjoy it (now that I own it) and all qualms that I had about it are gone, and a lot of the things that I found a bit over-dramatic are things that I now dearly love about it. I neglected to mention the huge contribution that cinematographer Billy Williams brings to this movie, as he carried out some of the beautifully outlandish shots Milius came up with. I wish he was allowed to make more films (he's certainly been allowed to doctor scripts most of his career, and Turner gives him a mini-series or TV movie to do once in awhile). His is a singular voice in Hollywood, and he's smart with what he does on film. Who knows, maybe they'll let him re-boot the new "Ahnold-less" Conan film series, as he did the first one. One would wish.

* This was 1975. It would be another five years before the video-tape boom that allowed folks to watch films in their own home, and even own media of that film. Seems like such a long time ago. Now, if one likes a film, one can buy it, and watch it as many times as they want. That's a great convenience--but it tends to make people cluster to stuff they like, rather than explore and take a chance on a new film.

** An aside from this review here: "Goldsmith just happens to be one of my favorite film scorers. I snap up one of his albums as soon as it appears in the racks, and seldom am I ever disappointed with what I hear. However, one of Goldsmith's pieces doesn't seem to mesh correctly with the visuals--the Raisuli's initial ride on a horse gone hay-wire." Um--that was the point, I think.

*** For instance, an incident like this DID take place during the Roosevelt administration. Ion Pedecaris WAS kidnapped by the Raisuli, in 1904. Ion was male. I'm sure it matters to history buffs, but changing Pedecaris to a woman raises the stakes of the story, and provides a whiff of romance and exoticism. Without "The Wind and The Lion" that incident would have been lost in the sands of time.