Benjamin Martin (Mel Gibson) is a reluctant hero drawn into the American Civil War when he can’t ignore the canons in his back yard any longer. Following his heroic battles in the bloody French and Indian conflict (apparently our Martin went a bit haywire with his axe and these ‘sins’ have now come back to haunt him), Martin has returned to his land to raise his family (and crop) in peace. There’s a chest with an old uniform and axe upstairs that the boys dress up with, but Martin’s major concern seems to be to build a rocking chair that can hold his weight.
A family feud is brewing between Martin and his willful son, Gabriel (Heath Ledger) – who like his father years ago – is young and restless for fighting. Gabriel is the true patriot of the story who is prepared to defend the ‘young nation’ against the might and taxes of the British, but with the same stubbornness you often see in people who’s experience of war is limited to playing with toy soldiers. Papa is reluctant to join in the drive to rid the Americas of the British: this war will not be fought on some faraway shores he explains, but in the backyards of friends and neighbours. And as a single parent he’s ‘not allowed the luxury of principles’.
No explanation is given for the buddy-like relationship between Martin and his black workers (who ‘work the land as free men’) when slavery was actually still in its heyday – historical accuracy is not important when you have everybody fighting the good all-American cause. And when a beaten and distraught Martin comes galloping through a field that reminds more of a New England landscape than the Deep South, a tattered old flag flapping in the wind, you can’t resist cheering him on.
As one can expect from any young, upcoming star from Oz, Heath Ledger has been hailed as the ‘new Russell Crowe’ (himself a young and upcoming star until a movie ago). Also included in the cast is Joely Richardson as Martin’s long-suffering sister in-law and Tchéky Karyo as the French major who trains Martin’s band of militia (and is the butt of countless French jokes). Jason Isaacs’s Colonel William Tavington steals the show as one of the ultimate screen bad-guys. He is delectably wicked in hunting Martin and his men down, employing very ungentlemanly tactics in the process.
The battle scenes are pretty awesome, all against the background of sweeping music, fit for the epic scenes the movie relies on to set the scene for its message of soaring patriotism. The movie is of the same proportions as Gibson’s Braveheart and must be well on course for the next Oscar race. This is the kind of big and bold movie that Gibson does best: the slow-mo fighting scenes, the pain of war reflected in his furrowed brow. Nobody does big-budget emotional turmoil quite like Gibson.