Year of the Garfield

I've always had a bit of a soft spot for the many talents of Andrew Garfield - outside of those rubbish Spider-man films, of course, he's been a consistently engaging presence in films like Never Let Me Go and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus in substantial supporting roles, and was rather excellent as Eduardo Saverin in The Social Network. I will say, though, that in these earlier roles, though he was certainly pretty good and on point for the majority of those films, there was a certain rawness and unpredictability to his style that could occasionally be a bit much. He was never ineffective as an actor for me, but I did see areas where he could possibly use a bit more refinement to his craft; I saw potential for more than just emotional intensity, which I should note he made quite the impression with already. With 99 Homes last year, where he gave a heartfelt and emphatic performance as the corrupted moral compass of an underrated film, and his duo of amazing films this year, I have to say he's made quite the indelible impression on me, and in the span of two years has risen up my rank of favourite acors working today quite considerably.

Anyway, so what is it about Mr Garfield's 2016 that was just so great? Did he just have the luck of working with two great directors at the peak of their powers? Did the fact he did not one, but two films about Christian faith raise his work this year to a higher plateau than everything else? Well I'll admit that the two films he appeared in were my two favourite films of the year, by some margin, and I absolutely adored plenty of other features like Moonlight, Hunt for the Wilderpeople and Manchester by the Sea. Hacksaw Ridge and Silence, though, stood out to me as the best of the year because they simply impacted me the most, but in such different ways, even though they're both about Christians in Japan, both focus around their faith being attacked, and of course, both star Andrew Garfield in the lead roles of: extraordinary real-life figure of Desmond Doss, WWII medic who saved 75 people on the Okinawa battlefields as an absolute pacifist who refused even to hold a weapon; and as Father Sebastião Rodrigues, a Portuguese Christian missionary searching for his missing mentor and spreading the Christian faith in 17th-Century Japan.

Both films are very heavy films, so to speak, in that there's a lot of depth and emotion to pack in, but also a great deal of contemplation involved in the pacifist's will to serve and the harsh practicalities of war, and the ethics of spreading faith in a country where Christianity is met with torture and death if discovered. Scorsese and Gibson both go for the jugular, sure, but it's not all just about hitting the right emotional notes for their respective films; it could've all added up to nothing but just rousing music and hackneyed Christian imagery in Hacksaw Ridge and boring silence and hackneyed Christian imagery in Silence. Thankfully, it is both directors operating at their ultimate best, Gibson in particular, and they found in their hands a supremely gifted talent to carry the film on their shoulders.

A simple man of complex faith.

In Hacksaw Ridge, we first meet Doss played by Garfield, chronologically speaking, as an endearing, optimistic, and just always happy young man who loves his family, loves his Church, loves Mother Nature, loves running, and grows to love medicine and the beautiful nurse Dorothy (Teresa Palmer) he meets when escorting an injured young man to a hospital (his expert amateur use of a belt as a tourniquet foreshadows a great deal). Doss, as one can tell from real-life interviews, was a man who took a general sense of joy in just living, and of course in his religious faith (but more about that in a bit). Garfield could not be more adorable and likeable in these scenes; particularly when romancing Dorothy, his awkward but effortless chemistry with Palmer reminded me a great deal of those good ol' Jimmy Stewart films of the 40s, 'aw shucks' disposition and corny lines and all, it could've all been a bit much, but I found it all incredibly sweet. He also takes on a very thick Virginian accent which I actually thought added a lot to the character. Some might find it very Forrest Gump-y or Simple Jack-y, but like Tom Hanks (and on that note, Tugg Speedman too) he makes the accent consistent, and it just further establishes the carefree and adorable nature of the man.

Doss is a man you're meant to instantly fall in love with, and the film really makes that work with Garfield's performance. There's something rather different he does with Rodrigues in Silence. Both characters have an accent - Garfield's Portugese-esque accent is technically a bit vague, but it feels very natural to the role, never distracts. And Rodrigues, despite being a priest, is a far more understated and quiet figure from the outset than the colourful Doss. When he speaks up, it is to express a firm and direct discontent, a firm conviction in his religious faith as he refuses to believe that his mentor Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson) apostatized in Japan. Garfield does not necessarily make Rodrigues appealing in his faith in the same way Doss's faith is endearing, which coming back to Doss does not define his likeability, but it is clear even in the early scenes of his life that his religious conviction, and just a general conviction of character, is unyielding. Whether it's his romancing of Dorothy, or his determination to serve in the army even though he is strictly against violence in all forms, he makes it very heartwarming. With his relationship to his troubled alcoholic war veteran father (Hugo Weaving), he tempers this a bit by showing a Doss more at loss how to deal with such a mess of a man.

There are two great scenes where Doss confronts his father, one a small quiet scene where he passionately tells him about his desire to serve in the war; and a downright amazing scene where he confronts his drunken father who's threatening to kill his mother. Garfield brings a feral intensity to the moment driven by his desire to protect, and is absolutely amazing in the silent moment after he takes his father's gun and aims at him of how close he came to killing the man. Rodriuges's faith in God is perhaps more eloquently handled than Doss, and very truthful, but more quiet and refined by years dedicated in the Church to God. For both men, Christianity is a way of life, but for Rodrigues even more so, as his narration conveys a man so comfortable in his belief that whenever he speaks of God it is with an unquestioned conviction and knowledge - or so he believes before he sets off with Father Garrupe (Adam Driver) and the drunken fisherman Kichijiro (the brilliant Yōsuke Kubozuka).

A man of faith venturing into an unsparing world 

Garfield's performance as Rodrigues reminded me a bit of one of my all-time favourite performances, Adrien Brody in The Pianist actually, in that the early scenes of his performance require him to be largely reactionary, but also maintain the focus of the film. Like Brody, Garfield excels in that regard rather marvelously. Whether he's playing off against Driver's similarly subtle and nuanced approach as a man of faith, comforting Kubozuka's BIG and very physical performance with a poignant struggle to give comfort while feeling such sadness at his suffering, or the loyal devotion of the Christians of the first Japanese village they visit (Yoshi Oida and Shinya Tsukamoto), Garfield creates such a compelling portrait of a man doing his duty to God in such a quietly passionate way. When he tells Garrupe that they must do their duty by the villagers, there's not a hint of sanctimony. The villagers derive great joy in the arrival of the priests, but their is not a hint of vanity in Driver and Garfield's interactions with the villagers as they do their best, and occasionally struggle, to interact and bring the villagers closer to God. Garfield portrays such a powerful sympathy for the villagers who must pray in secret, in silence, and the film handles these scenes with such a beautiful touch. He is no Christ figure, but the villagers see him as such, and it does make sense.

Doss, on the other hand, is not so kindly rewarded for his faith as he arrives at training camp for the army. Garfield does something that's underrated and clever, actually, in making it obvious why his fellow army members would find him a bit odd, if not necessarily off-putting, there's a certain unnaturalness in some of his initial interactions with the loud and cheery and foulmouthed fellow soldiers as he's just so earnest in his own unique and friendly way, without a hint of vulgarity. Fittingly for a man who finds such joy in life, where everyone else is standing still to attention when Vince Vaughn's drill sergeant grills the whole squad, Doss is standing still to attention too, but he smiles and cheerfully grins at Vaughn's antics, and when grilled himself doesn't seem too affected by it. When he gets taken the mickey out of for a poorly tied knot (more foreshadowing here folks), his slight chuckle at the verbal abuse he gets just seems so right. He's not mocking his superiors, he just can't help but find joy at this roasting he's getting, fitting for a man who believes in turning the other cheek and finding the bright side in life at every opportunity.

Faith questioned.

All good things must come to an end, though, and though Rodrigues offers comfort and guidance to the villagers and Doss excels in the military physicals, things come in the way of achieving their goals. The Japanese inquisition visits the village, and hostages are chosen to pay for the 'crimes' of practicing Christianity in secret. Garfield is astounding in how he almost silently builds up the intensity of these scenes, Scorsese does a brilliant job of gradually amplifying them to a climactic finish, but his leading man makes the scenes where he quietly feels the pain of his conscience and faith combating one another when telling the villagers what to do, advising them to trample on the 'Fumie' (images of Christ) to spare their own lives. Unfortunately, they're executed anyway, and Garfeld's reactionary work in these scenes are vivid and we see the man's faith begin to waver. There's not a lot of screentime or dialogue, and just a bit of narration to convey this, but Garfield internalizes this initial dissipation of his conviction in God wonderfully. The Crucifixion by the Sea scene is one of the best scenes of the year, Scorsese's direction makes it so, but Garfield's silent reactions and narration to the scene help ensure it is as well.

As for Doss, he remains more constant in his faith, admittedly because it's not as directly questioned, but his conviction in his faith is also incredible. The army tries to push him out and even resort to a court martial to remove a man who refuses to hold any form of weapon on the battlefield to join their ranks. This results in not only verbal but physical and legal attacks on Doss, which he all takes in a certain stride. He's not unaffected by this, but Garfield is downright brilliant in showing that nothing can bend this man's will and faith in what he's doing as right. When he gets to verbalize himself in a way Rodrigues cannot, he does not use the opportunity to go into a loud and out-of-character grandstanding speech, but rather a very modest one. In a prison cell with his now-wife Dorothy, he passionately states that he must stand for what he believes even if it costs him everything, and in court he espouses not his faith in God, but merely his intention to serve alongside his brothers in the terrible war, and help 'put a little bit of it back together'. These are some of the most powerful moments in the film, you completely root for Doss to get onto the battlefields, and we haven't even gotten onto the battlefields yet. But more on that in a bit.

Sent out into the 'fields'

Silence like The Pianist becomes a one-man show momentarily as Rodrigues and Garrupe split up to continue in search of Father Ferreira. His journey, though with more of a direct purpose than Spillman in The Pianist, nevertheless feels somewhat messy and aimless. Though he still knows (somewhat) that God has not abandoned it, he now grapples with doubts about the journey he has sent him on. I keep bringing up The Pianist and Brody because one of the most exceptional aspects of both performances is the physical deterioration both portray with such vividity. He eventually bumps into Kichijiro again, have I mentioned how great Kubozuka is in these scenes, oh yes I have (http://actorvsactor.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/personal-rankings-best-supporting-actor.html), well Garfield is also amazing in each of these exceptional scenes. Both are complete messes, emotionally, but Garfield differentiates his work from Kubozuka with a more fresh, overwhelming form of madness that gradually sneaks up on him from all the terrors he has witnessed, compared to the madness in Kichijiro of having endured such horrors for years and grown somewhat accustomed to them. Their brief friendship in the wilderness reaches an end because Kichijiro is the deceitful Judas to Rodrigues' conflicted figure of Christ. This symbolic relationship results in a pretty amazing scene where he sees a vision of Christ (the portrait by El Greco) in his own reflection. It's a minimalist but highly effective scene, and Garfield makes the palatable insanity of the moment rather haunting as he finally breaks down before being captured by the Japanese.

Doss, too, comes head-to-head with the Japanese, but in a different though also similar way. Even though both films feature the Japanese as adversaries, I'd argue that neither films portray them as villains, so to speak. With Silence of course there's the sympathetic villagers, and to an extent Kichijiro, and even the 'villains' of Inoue the Inquisitor (Issey Ogata) and Tanadobu Asano's Interpreter aren't necessarily 'evil', they're technically doing what they feel is in best interest for the country's welfare and don't desire to do more harm than necessary. In Hacksaw Ridge the enemy Japanese soldiers are portrayed with a certain distance, and are certainly violent and unhinged, but so are many of the American soldiers. War is hell, a terrible hell no one should ever experience, seems to be the message Mel Gibson is going for here, and though some may accuse the film of gratuitous violence, I feel like that's what it's meant to convey. Anyway, Garfield is not always front and centre in the battle scenes, since Gibson and his on-point production team give a rather vast scope to the many sides of the battle sequences. But he does so much with each of his small reactions to the horrors on the battlefield. I particularly love his first 'rescue' scene as he provides such comfort to a man who's lost his legs, when he says 'I ain't going nowhere. I'm gonna take you home' you can't not believe in him; him telling the story about why he chose to be a pacifist to fellow soldier Smitty (Luke Bracey); and just the more minor but no less impactful scenes as he watches his fellow soldiers dying. The already great war scenes are raised to an all-time great level by Garfield's work.

Staying behind in a hellish, seemingly Godless place

Silence transitions from an intimate, one-man character study to the breakdown of this man by a series of colourful characters, from the delightfully sadistic Inquisitor to the trolling Interpreter, and a more morose one in the figure of the apostasized Ferreira. Rodrigues is imprisoned with several Japanese Christians, and Garfield is remarkable in showing the weakened will and strength of a man disillusioned by all he has seen, and advising the Christians to pray in silence and hide their faith, but there's also a strange contrast between that external weakness and an internal conviction he finds to bring some sort of comfort and guidance to these Christians, yet it's just not all there. The sheer stress and horrors he has witnessed have brought him to a point of no return, and Garfield brilliantly internalizes how these wear down his convictions. But when questioned by the Inquisitor and the Interpreter, he maintains a defiant face and disposition that stands for his beliefs, in a much louder and incisive fashion than Desmond Doss, as he does his very best to remain a paragon of Christian strength in a land where Christianity is unable to establish its roots in the corrupted soil. What I love about these scenes is that Scorsese never tells you which side you should be on, there's equal amounts of flaws and merits to both sides of the argument, and Garfield matches this incredibly well by showing how Rodrigues' defiance could be both right, and wrong, but also how he doesn't really have the proper amount of control over what he's saying and doing. He's at the mercy of the Japanese and is gradually broken down by them like Ferreira was beforehand, speaking of which there's a great scene with Neeson where Garfield show's his utter disdain for his mentor's betrayal of the faith, but also a subtle fear over what this might bode for himself.

Rodrigues is tortured and Doss is tortured, and both culminate in devastating emotionally wrought scenes that are perhaps the most exceptional scenes of both performances. Rodrigues is forced as a captured Garrupe attempts to save several drowning Christians, Garfield's reactions of anguish are harrowing and powerful as expected, but even more powerful is how this essentially leaves him a hollow shell of himself in terms of faith and conviction, or so it seems. Every horror he witnesses just adds a bit more to his performance as it reduces Rodrigues bit by bit into a shell of a man. With Doss, it's that scene, the 'I Can't Hear You' scene. Doss witnesses the death of a comrade during a Japanese kamikaze attack, and as the rest of the soldiers retreat, he stays. He sits there, grieved, horrified by all the deaths he has witnessed, utterly at loss. The battlefields implode into flames. He is there alone. He feels the absence of God - 'What is it that you want from me? I don't understand. I can't hear you' These words struck such a powerful chord within me. They are so hauntingly delivered by Garfield, and you feel a man who has lost it all on the battlefield. Then, amidst the battlefields, you hear a call- a call for a 'Medic!' In Garfield's eyes, you see life returning to them. Regardless of whether or not you believe in God or not, you see him in front of your eyes, or rather Doss's eyes. And as Doss rushes back into the battlefield to rescue some men...man, I can't talk enough about this scene and this moment in Garfield's performance. Sublime.

Finding God in Hell

I think I'll be more brief on the rest of the performances of both. In case you haven't seen either film and have read all of this (in which case I'll be impressed), or you just skipped to the end, both films and Garfield build to profound conclusions that have strong religious undertones, but in very different ways. Mel Gibson, of course, loves religious imagery. It works incredibly well here because we are viewing events from the perspective of a man who throws all his conviction and bravery into his faith in God. He never breaks down completely, you see the hell of war in the man's eyes and know he'll never be quite the same again, but also manages to make moments where he rescues the men, the brief moments of joy he finds in saving their lives so heartfelt. You feel the power of every moment of Doss's incredible efforts, whether he's wiping blood off a man's eyes, hiding in terror underneath a body so he can get to a wounded soldier, or perhaps most poignantly aiding a dying Japanese soldier. You get a few quiet reactions after he's done his heroic deeds, and there's still that modesty, there's that haunted quality to the man, but you can also see why the men see him as a hero, someone they won't go into battle without. With Silence, Scorsese fashions a story which seems like it's hurtling towards a deeply cynical conclusion with a complete absence of God. That's not the case, though it's not subverted in the way you'd necessarily expect. I'll say no more on that front, but Garfield's work in the film's incredible finale is nothing short of exceptional. THE scene, where he must trample on the fumie, is a devastating scene, but not in the way you'd expect. And the extended ending, wherein we see what happens in the aftermath of the 'decision'. We continue beyond the expected point as we watch how Rodrigues is affected by his choice, and it's something altogether otherworldly. There's the emotional intensity to his actions, and something so incredibly profound in a man who has denied God to the outside world, but within has found a faith that is so incredibly strong, beyond the power of words. Garfield's two performances this year are both so incredible in terms of how they emotionally impacted me, but like their respective films that's not all there is. There's such a complex understanding of the belief systems of both men, and how he develops them to their conclusions is really quite something.