He may ring twice, but, if I were you, I wouldn't bother opening
the door. Kevin Costner, for a (refreshing?) change, appears
as the virginal vestige of the all-American hero, or, as the case
may be, on this occasion, an accidental hero (never to be
confused with Dustin Hoffman, who was saved by having
humor at his disposal in that role). As a two-bit
Shakespearean traveling player who paraphrases more often
than recites, a drifter rummages his way around the dried out
fields of Utah (and elsewhere), anno 2013, searching for
subsistence and surrounded by a devastated landscape that
lacks even the slightest trace of technology. Soon, however,
he will find a way to fill his stomach, his bed, and his ethical
void (as well as his pouch) and metamorphose into The
Postman; sort of like "Mad Max" meets the "Merry Mailman".
Forgetting all his cares and woes as he progresses through
life, this futuristic "traveler" is unfortunately spotted by the evil
General Bethlehem (Will Patton), leader of the Holnists, to be
a potential piece of strong, expendable meat for regimentation
and formation among his army of warriors. (Yes, even in the
future, boys will be boys.) After escaping the various ordeals
suffered by some of his new found fellow victims, he winds up
warming himself during a rainstorm inside a jeep alongside a
quiet, accommodating skeleton with a large leather pouch.
(The film might have been more interesting if it had
concentrated on the skeleton.)
As it now exists, the 3 hour
lllllllllllllllllllloooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnggggg film might have
been helped on its way by some heavy duty editing, but
nooooooooo, we're gonna' have to sit through a new
millennium vision that seems to take longer than the new
millennium. All of American history to date would take less
time to tell than this cinematic mythunlogical tale; and we're
not talking de Toqueville here. The simple message: though
the bad guys may burn flags, the good guys will deliver the
mail and re-establish communication between the now defunct
United States. Profound, huh? Thanks for that, Kev. As the
story trods on, The Postman (who never reveals his birth
name) becomes the unaspiring hero of the land. In this
paradoxical world of the future, he inspires others in the film,
but is uninspiring to the movie-going public. (I wonder if he
possibly envisions himself as the Ronald Reagan of the
future.) His buddy and first follower appears in the person of
Ford Lincoln Mercury (Larenz Tate) who, after taking the Post
Office oath swears to defend the mail with his life. (He
obviously didn't work for any mail service I've seen anywhere
in the world.) Two villagers, Abby (Olivia Williams) and her
husband, are unable to have a child and so ask for the virile
Postman's special delivery package which, once the husband
is killed by the evil General Bethlehem, finds the wife returning
to sender. The last scene, nostalgic of Little Big Horn or Blow
Your Trumpet, only manages to gain a sigh of relief from the
audience because they know the end titles are finally
approaching.
The mail serves as a symbol of hope and a reconnection to
the past in a world that has splintered, is struggling for
survival, and has become incapable of communication. Now,
really! Does the word pretentious come to mind? Producer
Steve Tisch (who gave us "Forrest Gump") needed twelve
years to find the appropriate team of filmmakers and cast for
this feature. Waste of time, Steve. The original book by David
Brin was a bestseller and it only remains to say that the film
must have lost something in translation. No, Kev, this is not
"cool". Instead of turning your cap around, you should have
turned your head around.
© 1994-2006 The Green Hartnett
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