In ancient Greece people watched the great tragedies in the amphi-theatres, and eyewitnesses tell us that audiences of 20'000 sat crying when the main character on the stage became aware of his fatal guilt and had to face death. They called it catharsis, best translated by 'cleaning the souls'. Well, measured by the tremendous effect on all of us writing reviews on the film, STAND BY ME has the power and qualities of ancient tragedy. This jewel of a film touches and shakes the best sides in us. I have watched it over and over again, and even if I watch it several times a week I still sit and laugh and cry, and it leaves me sad and confused and grateful, feelings that can last for hours and sometimes days.
So what is the mystery behind this masterpiece?
First of all it teaches us that good filmmaking isn't about the dollars spent on the production, but about the people who make it.
And it's about a unique and humble (I hope you understand what I mean) director: Rob Reiner doesn't try to show how good he is, leering at the Oscar-jury:the story is told without any visual effects, the pace is slow and the cinematography is unspectacular, but he succeeds in inspiring his young actors to perform honest feelings and letting the story develop by its own terms. An example is the milkmoney-scene. It is told that Reiner wasn't satisfied with the performance of River Phoenix. They tried again and again. Finally, he told River to remember a situation of his own life where a grownup had let him down. Guess if he succeeded with it! River Phoenix started crying and he couldn't stop crying a long time after the shot was taken. That's why this film is pure gold: it doesn't show professional acting, it shows young boys who open their hearts in front of a camera. They can do it, because they can relate to similar experiences and because the message is important and universal. We all can relate to similar situations. These scenes make me remember events from my own youth that I had inhibited for a long time, because I didn't like to remember them. That's the pain!
But it's not only the director and the actors who should earn all the credits. I read the novel after watching the film, and since that time Stephen King is one of the great contemporary writers in my book. I just don't understand why he doesn't write more of THE BODY kind. To me this book is pure poetry (including all those four-letter-words that Maltin e. a. don't like, because they don't understand why they are necessary)! But the most amazing thing is: the script doesn't only catch the quintessence of the novel, it's partly even better! This perfect balance between humor and seriousness! It doesn't manipulate the audience. In the book grownup Gordon sits in his car when he had read about his friend's death. "I drove out of town, parked, and cried for him. Cried for damn near half an hour, I guess." In the film Gordon doesn't cry. He doesn't need to. Everyone in the audience feels like crying, because they understand the tragedy! There are only 13 pages of dialogue and narration, and there really is not one line too much. It's so good, I almost know the whole of it by heart. Take the ending: In the book, the famous writer Gordon Lachance tells about how he met Ace Merrill again, some twenty years after the Ray Brower event: grown fat and the only one alive of his old friends and enemies. How much better is the film's ending! This important line about the friends we had when we were twelve years old is only a line in King's book, commending the good time the boys have at Milo Pressman's junkyard! If there had been an Oscar for impressive film endings, this film had deserved the first!
And thank you Jack Nitzsche for the intense score. It's Gordie's theme, when he's not with his friends. In the group Gordie is the smart boy with the sharp, quick, fresh replies. Without the friends, at home or in the store he barely speaks a word. And then we can hear that fragile Jack Nitzsche variation on Stand by me. It's like Gordie crying `where are you, Chris? Come, stand by me'. That's brilliant and exactly what great filmmusic should be: serving the film's dramaturgy.
Well, I don't know how many hours it took me to express my love to this film in a language that isn't my own. It seems impossible. It is exactly as Stephen King expressed it himself (end of chapter 29): `Even if I'd known the right thing to say, I probably couldn't have said it. Speech destroys the functions of love, I think - that's a hell of a thing for a writer to say, I guess, but I believe it to be true. If you speak to tell a deer you mean it no harm, it glides away with a single flip of its tail. The word is the harm. Love isn't what these asshole poets like McKuen want you to think it is. Love has teeth; they bite; the wounds never close. No word, no combination of words, can close those lovebites. It's the other way around, that's the joke. If those wounds dry up, the words die with them. Take it from me. I've made my life from the words, and I know that is so.'
10 out of 10, no doubt about it!
So what is the mystery behind this masterpiece?
First of all it teaches us that good filmmaking isn't about the dollars spent on the production, but about the people who make it.
And it's about a unique and humble (I hope you understand what I mean) director: Rob Reiner doesn't try to show how good he is, leering at the Oscar-jury:the story is told without any visual effects, the pace is slow and the cinematography is unspectacular, but he succeeds in inspiring his young actors to perform honest feelings and letting the story develop by its own terms. An example is the milkmoney-scene. It is told that Reiner wasn't satisfied with the performance of River Phoenix. They tried again and again. Finally, he told River to remember a situation of his own life where a grownup had let him down. Guess if he succeeded with it! River Phoenix started crying and he couldn't stop crying a long time after the shot was taken. That's why this film is pure gold: it doesn't show professional acting, it shows young boys who open their hearts in front of a camera. They can do it, because they can relate to similar experiences and because the message is important and universal. We all can relate to similar situations. These scenes make me remember events from my own youth that I had inhibited for a long time, because I didn't like to remember them. That's the pain!
But it's not only the director and the actors who should earn all the credits. I read the novel after watching the film, and since that time Stephen King is one of the great contemporary writers in my book. I just don't understand why he doesn't write more of THE BODY kind. To me this book is pure poetry (including all those four-letter-words that Maltin e. a. don't like, because they don't understand why they are necessary)! But the most amazing thing is: the script doesn't only catch the quintessence of the novel, it's partly even better! This perfect balance between humor and seriousness! It doesn't manipulate the audience. In the book grownup Gordon sits in his car when he had read about his friend's death. "I drove out of town, parked, and cried for him. Cried for damn near half an hour, I guess." In the film Gordon doesn't cry. He doesn't need to. Everyone in the audience feels like crying, because they understand the tragedy! There are only 13 pages of dialogue and narration, and there really is not one line too much. It's so good, I almost know the whole of it by heart. Take the ending: In the book, the famous writer Gordon Lachance tells about how he met Ace Merrill again, some twenty years after the Ray Brower event: grown fat and the only one alive of his old friends and enemies. How much better is the film's ending! This important line about the friends we had when we were twelve years old is only a line in King's book, commending the good time the boys have at Milo Pressman's junkyard! If there had been an Oscar for impressive film endings, this film had deserved the first!
And thank you Jack Nitzsche for the intense score. It's Gordie's theme, when he's not with his friends. In the group Gordie is the smart boy with the sharp, quick, fresh replies. Without the friends, at home or in the store he barely speaks a word. And then we can hear that fragile Jack Nitzsche variation on Stand by me. It's like Gordie crying `where are you, Chris? Come, stand by me'. That's brilliant and exactly what great filmmusic should be: serving the film's dramaturgy.
Well, I don't know how many hours it took me to express my love to this film in a language that isn't my own. It seems impossible. It is exactly as Stephen King expressed it himself (end of chapter 29): `Even if I'd known the right thing to say, I probably couldn't have said it. Speech destroys the functions of love, I think - that's a hell of a thing for a writer to say, I guess, but I believe it to be true. If you speak to tell a deer you mean it no harm, it glides away with a single flip of its tail. The word is the harm. Love isn't what these asshole poets like McKuen want you to think it is. Love has teeth; they bite; the wounds never close. No word, no combination of words, can close those lovebites. It's the other way around, that's the joke. If those wounds dry up, the words die with them. Take it from me. I've made my life from the words, and I know that is so.'
10 out of 10, no doubt about it!