Heaven’s Gate
It’s hard not to have specific expectations about a film like Michael Cimino’s notorious flop, “Heaven’s Gate,” and to a certain extent, the film kind of lived up to them. At the same time, though, I wondered whether there was something more that I might be missing if I didn’t feel a specific way about it. Given how far the pendulum swings both ways on this film, however, I shouldn’t really sweat it, and just figure out what the film does, or doesn’t do, for me.
I haven’t read a whole lot about Cimino’s sprawling epic, and the making of it beyond cliff notes, but watching the film, I wondered if the film might have been a deeply personal one to the filmmaker in the way he tells the story of James Averill, played by Kris Kristofferson. The way he lets certain films play out, the way he focuses on some parts of the story more than others, this isn’t just a filmmaker who wants to make a great western, but someone whom, I think, identifies with the morality Averill feels for the conflict he’s watching unfold between cattle barons and the European immigrants in Johnson County in Wyoming. While there are deviations from the true story Cimino is borrowing from in his telling, the fact that he found it worth telling makes me think there’s something about this state-sanctioned violence the cattle barons are threatening that stings the director. One of the things that struck me in watching the film was how I kept thinking about modern-day political and corporate corruption, colluding to promote violent nationalism. If this film came out today, I imagine it would be received somewhat differently. Well, not entirely differently.
If Cimino and “Heaven’s Gate” focused on this story, and Averill’s part of it, I think it would have been perfectly suitable as a western adventure, and wouldn’t have the reputation it has now. But Cimino is looking to make something bigger, more personal, and that’s where “Heaven’s Gate” stumbles. The film begins in 1870, at a Harvard graduation ceremony, and the first image we see is Averill racing to get in line on the day. We then see the president of the university give his speech, followed by one from William Irvine, Averill’s classmate (played by the terrific John Hurt), which espouses an opposite message. After the ceremony, an impromptu dance happens outside, and the celebration goes on into the night. All of this accounts for about 35 minutes of film in a 216-minute movie, and thus begins the great conundrum of “Heaven’s Gate,” and Cimino’s approach- he wants us to experience every moment as if it’s precious and to be savored. This opening goes on far too long, and past the actual ceremony, there isn’t much reason to include the celebrations from a narrative standpoint except for glances of Averill’s school sweetheart, who will return later in the film. The weird thing is, the film has many such moments, which are stretched out too long and serve very little purpose to the story, but “Heaven’s Gate” moves from scene to scene quite well, actually, and doesn’t feel 3 1/2 hours long, but there’s so little of significance going on during many scenes in the film that you wonder whether the film would have been better with more focus on the essentials. I know a shorter cut was made that was 2 1/2 hours long, and while I’m curious how it plays, I also don’t want to watch it, knowing that this was the cut of the film Cimino preferred. (Even if it was readily available, I don’t think I’d ever watch the original 5 1/2 hour cut Cimino presented to United Artists.)
“Heaven’s Gate” is maddening, but I would say it’s well worth watching for people who enjoy not just westerns, but cinema, in general, if only to formulate your own opinion of it. It tells a compelling story, even if it doesn’t quite find the best way to tell it. It has great actors abound, from Kristofferson, Hurt and Jeff Bridges to Christopher Walken, Isabelle Huppert, and Sam Waterstone, even if some (Waterstone, Walken) are better than others (Huppert is really raw, and doesn’t really have the emotional impact you need for this type of film). The cinematography is by the master, Vilmos Zsigmond, but while there is magnificent framing at work here, the color scheme preferred by Cimino makes it feel bland to look at. The music captures the evocative nature of Cimino’s vision, but I swear his adaptation of “The Blue Danube,” which is omnipresent throughout the film after being introduced during the graduation celebration, is as annoying as any use of a piece of music I’ve ever heard used in a movie. “Heaven’s Gate” doesn’t make itself easy to appreciate, but one cannot dismiss it easily based on its reputation; there’s too much to contemplate to just set it aside.
