Journal of American Studies of Turkey
13
(2001): 87-88
Film Review
Kevin Reynolds: The Beast (1988)
Ann Fey
The Beast is an American production by Columbia Pictures
filmed in Israel. It is a strikingly disturbing war film with an anti-war
theme, an open-ended morality play, a heroic tale whose characters range from
saints to sadists. Set in Afghanistan in 1981, the second year of the Russian
invasion, it is relevant and powerful today, rife with contemporary issues.
Its action is based on
the traditional war genre plot: it focuses on a small group of men separated
from the army at large, a microcosmic reflection of the larger force. The
action centers on a Russian tank and crew heading for Kandahar who take a wrong
turn and are lost in the desert. The incidents are war-specific but some
elements of the content, production, and presentation of the film seem global
in their relevance to other conflicts in these times of desert wars. Around the
time of its release American presence in Afghanistan had supplanted the
Russian.
Photographically
powerful images of horrible explosions, amber dust clouds, fleeting shots of
masked alien-like invaders storming and burning villages and poisoning wells,
scenes of torture and killing, splash violently across the scene, masterfully
timed and lit, artistically controlled and terrible. The structure of the film
intersperses these action scenes with calm, quiet exchanges and dialogues,
which take place within two different groups: local Afghans and the Russian
tank crew.
Among the Afghans, the
interactions involve older respected traditional tribal leaders, a Mujahedeen
motorcycle riding militant named Mustapha, and the new moderate and idealistic
heir to leadership, Taj. As Taj more clearly questions his worthiness to take
on his inherited position as Khan, he grows to be more worthy of it. Sherina,
the woman in these dunes, leads her sisters with cleverness and emotion. Her
movements are tangential to the men, central to the action.
In the tank the Russian
crew includes impressionable semi-reluctant but obedient youngster types; a
committed, thoughtful moderate Koverchenko whose spectacles (that formulaic
costume indicator in both literature and film) underscore his role as rational
seeker-of-the-right; and Shazaman, a moderate, religious, idealistic Afghan who
is committed to an informed and peacefully unified future world culture.
This crew is headed by a
madman, Daskal, a war-mongering beast, inseparable in nature from his secure
destroyer tank. This powerful despot unleashes his evil, as he murders Shazaman
and leaves the reasonable Koverchenko bound in the desert to die. When
Koverchenko is approached by the enemy Afghan group, and Taj is about to kill
him, he demands they give him "nanawatal," sanctuary, the Muslim
obligation to all who request it. He has come to learn of this obligation from
his murdered Muslim cohort. Several scenes - sensitive, interesting - establish
a growing trust between Taj and Koverchenko. The action shifts as they join in
in pursuit on foot of Daskal and the wayward tank. High angle shots as the tank
crawls along in the desert, close-ups of the churning tracks, traveling shots
of the turret seem to personify the beastly tank. Some moments inside recall
the psychologically striking atmosphere achieved in Das Boot (Wolfgang
Petersen 1981).
The film uses some war
genre formulae, and some now-familiar images: a soldier straddling the tank's
gun like the pilot astride the atomic bomb in the ending of Dr. Strangelove
(Stanley Kubrick 1964); Koverchenko seen from above suffering in the desert
with arms akimbo pinned down like a Christ-figure, and later flying through the
air on the end of a helicopter rescue line like a Peter Pan. The madness of the
leader Daskal is traditional, more irrational than Captain Queeg in The Caine
Mutiny (Edward Dmytryk 1954) , madder and more dangerous than Colonel Kurtz
in Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola 1979). It is almost amusing to
think that this sand-epic action film originated as a stage play by William
Mastrosimone. But so did the spectacular Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean
1962) first appear in Robert Bolt's stage play. Elements in the
production blur the historical specificity of the film and make it play for
today, an eerie reflection of current news footage from the Middle East. Devoid
of architectural indicators, the desert setting becomes generic. The Russian
roles take on American identity, as indeed the military roles in that country
made the same shift. The Russians are played in this American production by
American actors using American accented English. (The Afghan characters' Pashtu
words are subtitled, in roles played effectively by American actors who learned
their dialogue phonetically.) The role of the despotic Daskal is played by
George Dzundza, a familiar American actor well known for his role as a police
detective early in the television series Law and Order.
Filmed on location in
Israel The Beast had a brief theatrical release. It was presented in
1988 at the New York and the Toronto Film Festival, was honored at the
Cleveland International Film Festival in 1989, and was shortly thereafter
withdrawn from distribution. American involvement in Afghanistan at that time
may have been relevant. The 2001 release of the digital video has spurred
increased interest in the film in the United States.