On the recent film adaptation Beowulf, I must first say that I found the movie to be quite entertaining. It certainly was art; the landscape shots and imagery were quite impressive. And the voice-acting done by the cast (especially that of Anthony Hopkins) was very good. Obviously, however, there are some major changes to the poem that ought be addressed, and I wish to do so briefly. There are spoilers forthcoming, so if you have not yet seen the movie and intend to, be ye warned!
First of all, the main story of Beowulf, which most of us pretended to read in high school, is as follows: A terrible monster called Grendel is terrorizing the mead hall of king Hrothgar. He seeks for aid, and comes to him the hero Beowulf. Beowulf slays Grendel with his bare hands, then kills Grendel’s mother, the river-hag. We then flash forward to Beowulf in his old age, having returned to his own lands, who then kills a dragon and dies of his wounds.
The major changes to the main storyline in the film are immediately evident even to me, who has not picked up a copy of Beowulf and read it all the way through for a few years. Instead of slaying Grendel’s mother (the apparently seductive and tail-wagging Angelina Jolie), Beowulf makes a pact with her to give her a son. She, in return will give him a great kingdom and wealth. Beowulf returns and spins a (false) story of how he killed the “hag,” and it is written down in the lays to be told year after year. An interesting twist is that he has repeated the mistake of Hrothgar, who was actually Grendel’s father, who bore the similar burden of conscience, and ends up killing himself after Beowulf repeats his mistake. Beowulf then grows dark and despairing in conscience over his evil deed. He finally redeems himself when he dies slaying a dragon, who incidentally is his son from the hag, and is put out to sea, as is their custom. The last scene is of his right-hand man, Wiglaf, who watching the burning ferry of Beowulf’s body, sees the hag “kiss Beowulf goodbye, and then beckons for Wiglaf to come meet her in the sea. Will history repeat itself yet again? The screen fades to black, and one is left to wonder.
I knew the writers would change the story. I can remember before going to see the movie remarking to one of my friends, “They’re going to give Beowulf an introspective conscience, I know they will.” And they did. And I don’t know if that even upsets me. They did it to Aragorn. I got over that one. I guess we can’t have our heroes living blissfully with their actions anymore; I doubt we believe that our heroes have actions that they could live with. And I don’t know that the writers meant any disrespect to the poem. I’m fairly certain they went through great pains to show their familiarity with the poem, especially in the first half. And they cleverly hid their changes in the fact that the lay in the movie does indeed record the killing of Grendel’s mother. So the movie works under the premise that this is the real story behind the Hero poem.
I don’t know if Tolkien would have liked the changes, but I doubt it. However, I don’t want to comment on that. I am no Beowulf scholar, not even close. I would rather like to comment on the nature of the changes, which are so very foreign to the original poem. The fact that our heroes all have introspective consciences, often driven by some past, tragic mistake towards some redeeming action, is pretty telling of our current mindset concerning ourselves and our own nature. As we have moved out of the times where simply living was enough to keep one preoccupied and actions were the defining points of a man and into an age where we are constantly inventing ways to keep ourselves busy, the inner workings of our minds and hearts and the impetus behind our actions have become increasingly important to us. And I don’t know that we like what we find, oftentimes.
This is not to say that people of the ancient world did not look inside themselves. As a student of ancient literature, I could not hold this as so. However, they did not do ever as much, and I don’t think they did it for the same reasons. Moreover, when they did to it, I don’t think they did it even the same way as we do. The ancient world held a greater respect (due or undue) for the presence of the “otherworldly” and the divine in normal life so that they did not consider their actions to be solely of their own accord. I am, of course, speaking in generalities here, but oftentimes a theme of some ancient tale is that fate (or the gods, or whoever) was guiding the actions of these characters. This is not to say they were without choice or unaccountable (although some might seek to say that); only that they were not the only force working towards a certain end. This is not usually the case for us. And looking inside, when we cannot look to a guide (or Guide) of our actions, we have to figure out why we did…whatever we do.
And so the redeeming act becomes important. Hrothgar failed to do his, but Beowulf does not. And so our hero, although he is everything we didn’t want him to become, everything we don’t want to become (unfaithful; compromising), is able to make up for this in one great act of self-sacrificial piety. And we breathe easier.
However, the movie does not end with this hope (or despair). Rather, it ends with the great tenor of our age (and one that the world from which this story springs would have been less acquainted with): Uncertainty. The “Lady or the Tiger” ending makes no claims on the nature of Men. Will Wiglaf repeat the mistakes of men? We don’t know.
Is this to be a scenario where “it is left up to the reader to decide?” I don’t think so. Rather, I think that this is the answer from today’s most prevalent philosophy here in the Western world. Is Man good or evil? Is he destined to repeat his mistakes, or will he break the cycle? Answer: we don’t know. The verdict is not in, or worse, the verdict is unknowable. This is the age where our heroes are just as guilty as we are, just as weak as we are, and hope remains uncertain.
What I find most interesting about this is that twice in the film, Hero Philosophy (which I hope I have made clear that film lacks, strange as it may be for a Beowulf adaptation) and Christianity are matched, and Christianity always seems to be on bottom. Hrothgar, when it is suggested he pray to the “new Roman god,” Christ Jesus, he says that we do not need a god but a Hero. Again, later in the film, Beowulf remarks that there are no heroes left in the world, only weeping martyrs: “the Christ-god killed them.” What are we to make of this? A film which fails to capture the spirit of the Hero, instead portraying heroes as weak and despairing, also laments the “weakness” of Christianity, which is portrayed as “killing” the spirit of the age of heroes.
This muddledness is, perhaps, to be expected. In our hearts, we can’t believe the “weakness” of Christianity the answer (which is precisely why it should be considered), and yet, we can’t buy into the undaunted, untainted, immodest spirit of the violent hero – that age certainly failed, not just with Christianity but also with the Enlightenment and historic events like WWII. The film itself tried to capture that spirit (with “dialogue” such as Ray Winstone screaming “I am ripper, tearer, slasher, gouger…I AM BEOWULF!”), but in the end could not bring itself to embrace it: Beowulf is all but a failure who perhaps “redeems” himself in one final, desperate act. So what’s the answer? The film can’t even give that; it simply fades to black.
“She’s not my curse…not anymore,” Hrothgar says (in the brilliant voice of Anthony Hopkins) right before throwing himself from the ledge and proving himself mistaken. She is ours as well. Can we resist? Can we redeem ourselves?
First of all, the main story of Beowulf, which most of us pretended to read in high school, is as follows: A terrible monster called Grendel is terrorizing the mead hall of king Hrothgar. He seeks for aid, and comes to him the hero Beowulf. Beowulf slays Grendel with his bare hands, then kills Grendel’s mother, the river-hag. We then flash forward to Beowulf in his old age, having returned to his own lands, who then kills a dragon and dies of his wounds.
The major changes to the main storyline in the film are immediately evident even to me, who has not picked up a copy of Beowulf and read it all the way through for a few years. Instead of slaying Grendel’s mother (the apparently seductive and tail-wagging Angelina Jolie), Beowulf makes a pact with her to give her a son. She, in return will give him a great kingdom and wealth. Beowulf returns and spins a (false) story of how he killed the “hag,” and it is written down in the lays to be told year after year. An interesting twist is that he has repeated the mistake of Hrothgar, who was actually Grendel’s father, who bore the similar burden of conscience, and ends up killing himself after Beowulf repeats his mistake. Beowulf then grows dark and despairing in conscience over his evil deed. He finally redeems himself when he dies slaying a dragon, who incidentally is his son from the hag, and is put out to sea, as is their custom. The last scene is of his right-hand man, Wiglaf, who watching the burning ferry of Beowulf’s body, sees the hag “kiss Beowulf goodbye, and then beckons for Wiglaf to come meet her in the sea. Will history repeat itself yet again? The screen fades to black, and one is left to wonder.
I knew the writers would change the story. I can remember before going to see the movie remarking to one of my friends, “They’re going to give Beowulf an introspective conscience, I know they will.” And they did. And I don’t know if that even upsets me. They did it to Aragorn. I got over that one. I guess we can’t have our heroes living blissfully with their actions anymore; I doubt we believe that our heroes have actions that they could live with. And I don’t know that the writers meant any disrespect to the poem. I’m fairly certain they went through great pains to show their familiarity with the poem, especially in the first half. And they cleverly hid their changes in the fact that the lay in the movie does indeed record the killing of Grendel’s mother. So the movie works under the premise that this is the real story behind the Hero poem.
I don’t know if Tolkien would have liked the changes, but I doubt it. However, I don’t want to comment on that. I am no Beowulf scholar, not even close. I would rather like to comment on the nature of the changes, which are so very foreign to the original poem. The fact that our heroes all have introspective consciences, often driven by some past, tragic mistake towards some redeeming action, is pretty telling of our current mindset concerning ourselves and our own nature. As we have moved out of the times where simply living was enough to keep one preoccupied and actions were the defining points of a man and into an age where we are constantly inventing ways to keep ourselves busy, the inner workings of our minds and hearts and the impetus behind our actions have become increasingly important to us. And I don’t know that we like what we find, oftentimes.
This is not to say that people of the ancient world did not look inside themselves. As a student of ancient literature, I could not hold this as so. However, they did not do ever as much, and I don’t think they did it for the same reasons. Moreover, when they did to it, I don’t think they did it even the same way as we do. The ancient world held a greater respect (due or undue) for the presence of the “otherworldly” and the divine in normal life so that they did not consider their actions to be solely of their own accord. I am, of course, speaking in generalities here, but oftentimes a theme of some ancient tale is that fate (or the gods, or whoever) was guiding the actions of these characters. This is not to say they were without choice or unaccountable (although some might seek to say that); only that they were not the only force working towards a certain end. This is not usually the case for us. And looking inside, when we cannot look to a guide (or Guide) of our actions, we have to figure out why we did…whatever we do.
And so the redeeming act becomes important. Hrothgar failed to do his, but Beowulf does not. And so our hero, although he is everything we didn’t want him to become, everything we don’t want to become (unfaithful; compromising), is able to make up for this in one great act of self-sacrificial piety. And we breathe easier.
However, the movie does not end with this hope (or despair). Rather, it ends with the great tenor of our age (and one that the world from which this story springs would have been less acquainted with): Uncertainty. The “Lady or the Tiger” ending makes no claims on the nature of Men. Will Wiglaf repeat the mistakes of men? We don’t know.
Is this to be a scenario where “it is left up to the reader to decide?” I don’t think so. Rather, I think that this is the answer from today’s most prevalent philosophy here in the Western world. Is Man good or evil? Is he destined to repeat his mistakes, or will he break the cycle? Answer: we don’t know. The verdict is not in, or worse, the verdict is unknowable. This is the age where our heroes are just as guilty as we are, just as weak as we are, and hope remains uncertain.
What I find most interesting about this is that twice in the film, Hero Philosophy (which I hope I have made clear that film lacks, strange as it may be for a Beowulf adaptation) and Christianity are matched, and Christianity always seems to be on bottom. Hrothgar, when it is suggested he pray to the “new Roman god,” Christ Jesus, he says that we do not need a god but a Hero. Again, later in the film, Beowulf remarks that there are no heroes left in the world, only weeping martyrs: “the Christ-god killed them.” What are we to make of this? A film which fails to capture the spirit of the Hero, instead portraying heroes as weak and despairing, also laments the “weakness” of Christianity, which is portrayed as “killing” the spirit of the age of heroes.
This muddledness is, perhaps, to be expected. In our hearts, we can’t believe the “weakness” of Christianity the answer (which is precisely why it should be considered), and yet, we can’t buy into the undaunted, untainted, immodest spirit of the violent hero – that age certainly failed, not just with Christianity but also with the Enlightenment and historic events like WWII. The film itself tried to capture that spirit (with “dialogue” such as Ray Winstone screaming “I am ripper, tearer, slasher, gouger…I AM BEOWULF!”), but in the end could not bring itself to embrace it: Beowulf is all but a failure who perhaps “redeems” himself in one final, desperate act. So what’s the answer? The film can’t even give that; it simply fades to black.
“She’s not my curse…not anymore,” Hrothgar says (in the brilliant voice of Anthony Hopkins) right before throwing himself from the ledge and proving himself mistaken. She is ours as well. Can we resist? Can we redeem ourselves?
5 comments:
Alex, you are a good man.
Do you think that the redeeming act of Beowulf is really that redeeming. In the sense that it still leaves the cycle untouched. He never tells anyone the truth about the hag, except maybe his wife. I just dont find his act as that "full." So in some sense, the overriding feeling of the oppression of humanity is kept, despite his best efforts.
Sorry for rambling, but here is another thought. From the movie, man is oppressed by demons and dragons and the like. In the end, man is oppressed by the "Christ-god." It would seem that one theme found in the film is that man is always under that shadow of oppression and that his best efforts to relieve that are worthless. In some ways, this would seem a little bit like Voltaire's Candid.
Just some useless thoughts.
By "full" I mean that his attempt to redeem his past mistake is not really all that lasting. It is empty.
Hey, Dave, sorry so long on a reply. Been busy with the holidays and whatnot. Thank you for your comments, though. I appreciate them.
To your first, no, I agree, the act of redemption is not "full." However, it is still meant to be an act of redemption, however shallow or inept it may be. And I think this is a fault of film in general: a man undos a lifetime of error with one "great" (perhaps) act. Some pop films that come immediately to mind are Independence Day, Pirates 3, and The Last of the Mohicans. But I think that Beowulf would still be classified as a redeeming act. And moreover, I think that it is not perhaps meant to be full - I mean, the ending is about as nebulous about the fate and nature of Man as you can get - but it is meant to be the best that he, a fallen Hero, can be.
To your last, I must admit that I have not read Voltaire's Candid (or anything by Voltaire, for that matter, much to my chagrin), however, I would not disagree that that might be a theme, although not necessarily overt.
Again, appreciate your comments. You keep me from hearing crickets when I work on my blog.
“She’s not my curse…not anymore,” Hrothgar says [...] right before throwing himself from the ledge and proving himself mistaken.
I think you might be missing a hint of irony in his statement. I don’t think he was mistaken at all. I think he meant, “She’s not my curse [; she’s your curse now].”
Oh, and a minor correction. It’s Candide, with an e. :)
Yeah, like I said, I've not read any Voltaire. And I don't speak French (he was French, right? ;)
I understand what you are saying about the irony, and I did recognize it to begin with. I agree that what you said is what the authors wanted us to interpret. However, by saying Hrothgar is mistaken, I was saying that his act of suicide is to prove that he is still haunted and driven by the curse, even though Grendel is dead. I don't think the curse is just the monster - I think it is also the terrible act that spawned the monster, both for Hrothgar and Beowulf. And that act can't simply be passed on.
I'm assuming you've studied Beowulf. Do you think there was a strong change in worldviews when they change the storyline so that Beowulf sires the dragon?
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