My Oldest (Living) Movie Review and an Embarrassing Story

There's a funny story behind my brief career as a film critic.

In 2006 I was working in Iowa at a small free market policy think tank at a college campus.

The job (“research analyst”) allowed me to do some writing and editing, which is what I wanted to be (a writer) even though I had no idea how to pull it off. A lot of the writing was dry, but I was getting paychecks and experience and still had plenty of free time to do other stuff.

Being 25, I spent more of that free time golfing, lifting weights, playing racquetball, and drinking beer in bars than I did writing books, I’m ashamed to admit. But not all of that entertainment was useless.

One summer, after getting in a ladder tournament at the local gym, I started playing racquetball with the local news editor—a friendly gentleman named Larry Kershner.

Larry was quite a bit older than I was, but he played a mean game and we both liked to talk. He learned I liked movies and was an aspiring writer, so he invited me to write reviews for the local newspaper, where he was the editor. He didn’t have much budget, he said, but he could offer me $5 per review, which would at least cover the price of my movie ticket.

I gladly accepted.

The first movie I reviewed was James Bond: Casino Royale. I can still remember opening the newspaper a couple of days later and seeing my review (and my picture!) in the entertainment section.

I was a thrilled as puppy with two peters; you would have thought I’d won an Academy Award.

Other movie reviews followed. I did Mel Gibson’s Apocalypto. Spiderman 3. Disturbia starring Shia Labeouf, which I still think is a pretty underrated flick (see above). And several others I can’t think of right now.

I had been under the impression all these reviews were lost when the newspaper went under, but apparently at least one survived. The date on the review is wrong. I wrote it 2006, not 2018. But in any event, here is my review of Apocalypto, which I stumbled upon my accident over the weekend.

Mel Gibson continues to defy Hollywood and the odds. When production companies refused to touch his last project - The Passion of the Christ, - with a ten-foot-pole, Gibson produced the film himself. Despite its challenges - Aramaic dialogue (subtitled), an R-rating, and an astonishing amount of violence - Passion went on to become the most successful independent film in history.

Apocalypto - Gibson's latest film - has all these challenges and more. Whereas the Passion had known talent - the gifted Jim Caviezel and luscious Monica Bellucci - not a single recognizable face appears in Apocalypto. The Passion appealed to a very broad audience and told a story most viewers already knew; Apocalypto does neither. Throw in Gibson's recent personal problems and this film had disaster written all over it. Yet Apocalypto does not disappoint and looks to be another moneymaker.

Set in 15th century Meso-America, Apocalypto opens in a small, peaceful hunting village on the periphery of a fading Mayan civilization. Though clad in rough attire and decorated in fierce looking ornaments and tattoos, the village inhabitants seem much like us: family oriented, jocular, and amorous. But soon our hunters come across a neighboring tribe in flight, ragged and blood-spattered, portending perilous times.

Soon after, the village is attacked by a band of evil looking (and even more gruesomely decorated) warriors. Battle ensues and the hunters are quickly overwhelmed; many are killed, the rest are taken prisoner. However, the young man destined to be our hero - Jaguar Paw (who bears an uncanny resemblance to RHCP lead singer, Anthony Kiedis) - has managed to stash his pregnant wife and son away in a cavern before he is taken captive.

The survivors are marched to a Mayan city filled with death and decadence. Prisoners are divided into two groups: one to be sold as slaves, the other sacrificed to appease angry gods who have brought famine and pestilence to the mighty civilization. Our hero is selected for sacrifice, but through a quirk of fate he manages a brief reprieve and soon orchestrates his escape. When pursued by a band of warriors into his native forest - terrain known intimately by our hero - the stage is set for redemption. The battle is much like a 15th century Meso-American version of First Blood. Jaguar Paw is the Rambo toying with Brian Dennehy and his deputies (except, you know a guy named Jaguar Paw is not taking prisoners).

What makes Apocalypto a success is its stunning visuals and authentic feel. The original Mayan dialect (Yucatec) is used and the actors are all Native Americans bearing (presumably) genuine body apparel, tattoos, etc. The cinematography is magnificent. Gibson belongs behind the camera. With the exception of perhaps Clint Eastwood, no actor in recent memory has made such a smooth transition from player to director.

Viewers feel virtually transported to an ancient and extinct civilization.

Like Gibson's other films, Apocalypto possesses a Hobbesian feel; life is poor, nasty brutish, and short. From the very beginning we see a Darwinian chain where the strong survive and the weak are mere prey. It is the anti-Dances With Wolves.

Some may find the departure from the presentation of the Native American as "noble savage" unfair. But this misses the point. In Apocalypto, virtue is found in mammalian simplicity (i.e. the "noble savage). To Gibson, like thinkers from Tacitus to Rousseau, the antagonist is not "the savage," but civilization.

Apocalypto is not without flaws and is not a film for everyone (I heard a few grumbles exiting the theatre). In some of his earlier films, Gibson used violence effectively to evoke a feeling of realism, but in Apocalypto lines of effectiveness and taste our sometimes crossed, and instead of realistic, the violence feels gratuitous and contrived. One villain is so sadistic he becomes artificial and clownish. The ending is also a bit of a letdown in that it seems to ignore a prophecy made earlier in the film. (My theory: Gibson intended a different ending but wanted to conclude on a more enlightening note.)

But if you are seeking brief refuge into another world and don't mind a bit (okay, a lot) of gore and subtitles, go see Apocalypto. It is a beautifully shot, high-pulsed adventure that will some breathless and other horrified.

So that was the beginning of my freelance writing career. Unfortunately, the story ends in embarrassing fashion.

After writing several movie reviews for the paper, it occurred to me that I was no longer getting paid for my submissions.

Maybe they don’t like them, I thought.

I don’t remember if it was this insecurity that prompted me, but eventually I just stopped submitting my reviews to the newspaper. Later that year I moved from Iowa to Florida, where I took a job as a cub newspaper reporter.

Several years later something occurred to me. I had stopped getting paychecks because I had forgotten it was my job to invoice the newspaper, a rather important step to getting paid.

When this dawned on me I felt like a fool, of course. The worst part was the realization that I had basically ghosted Larry and the paper who graciously accepted my columns. I felt horrible.

So Larry, if you’re still out there, just let me say thank you for taking a chance and accepting my movie reviews.

The $5 was great, but the truth is, the experience mattered a lot more to me than the $5—and I don’t mean just the important lesson of remembering to invoice for one’s work (although, I thank you for that one, too).