Boat people
Getting wet with Wolfgang Petersen and Sebastian Junger
Wolfgang Petersen has a thing for impending doom in confined
spaces. The German-born director has tormented his characters in a submarine
(Das Boot), an elevator (In the Line of Fire), Air Force One
(Air Force One), and now the tiny hold of the swordfishing boat the
Andrea Gail in The Perfect Storm.
"Yes," he says in Teutonic accent that recalls the megaphone-wielding,
dictatorial directors of Hollywood's Golden Age, "it's an old Greek-drama trick
of the one space and time. You can't go out, especially when confronted with a
crisis. Is it maybe a submarine with depth charges, or is it a plane with
terrorists on board, or is it, like in our case, a boat facing the storm of the
century? To watch the characters and how they interact in a situation like
that, or in a doomed situation, that makes it very dramatic."
Aristotle's unities of time and place aside, what about his notion of "the
imitation of an action"? How constrained or inspired did the director feel
about re-creating an actual event, especially since many of the survivors are
still living?
"You have an enormous responsibility, of course. Das Boot was a real
story as well; it was the story of a war correspondent, one who was on that
submarine and wrote a book about it, and the film was a tribute to German
submarine sailors. This is a tribute to an American blue-collar world --
Gloucester fishermen. We have a responsibility to stick to the reality and tell
their story and not to make huge compromises with a nice love story and
clichés so that it might work better for a summer audience. I think it's
a pretty risky thing to do and pretty bold, and I'm very proud that we did
it."
Like Petersen, Sebastian Junger, who wrote the bestselling book on which the
movie is based, has a thing for extremity -- the plight of ordinary people in
extraordinary circumstances. "I felt that it's a little bit of a class issue
here. That there are a lot of jobs in this country, a lot of industries that
really cost a lot of lives. I mean, people die regularly working. Men
particularly. And I felt that no one acknowledged it. The people who get all
the glamor are people who are risking their lives at a performance, like
mountain climbers, race-car drivers, guys like that. They're extraordinary
athletes, I mean, I'm not criticizing them at all. I just felt that society
should include in their admiration people who often have no education, who make
very little money, and who are also doing something that is necessary to
society. Society would be fine if no one climbs Everest again. It's not that I
wanted to make heroes out of the working classes, but I just felt that it was
time to focus people a little bit on things like logging -- tremendously
dangerous. And everything's made of wood, practically. We remember our war
dead, you know. We don't remember our working dead."
Was he worried that the film might violate the honor of these working dead, or
exploit them for entertainment and financial gain?
"As long as it doesn't violate some basic principle I believe in, I'm fine with
it. You know, if a UFO had come down and saved them, that violates a basic
principle of mine. Any time you publicize a tragedy, you're either exploiting
it or you're informing the public about something that they're blissfully
unaware of. I would say it's a mix of the two. This honors the hard work and
the tragic deaths of six anonymous guys. Now, people know that men die offshore
fishing; they didn't before."
-- P.K.
Back to 'The Perfect Storm'