Apocalypse Now Redux, Reconsidered?

The reconsideration I have in mind isn’t mine, it’s A.O. Scott’s, movie critic for The New York Times. He hasn’t actually reconsidered. But would he do so if he accepted the account of the film’s ending that emerges from two of my posts: Apocalyptic Confusion, and Ritual in Apocalypse Now.

Of course I don’t know the answer to the question, but I have a reason for asking it. In a 2001 review of Apocalypse Now Redux he states unequivocally that the film is a great one. He also states that the ending doesn’t work. Given that the not-working ending takes considerable time on the screen, I’m wondering why he doesn’t hold that against the film so as to make it, say, only near-great?

You see, his review tells us what he thinks about the film, how he understands it, comprehends it, but it doesn’t tell us how he felt it. Was he bored by the ending? Or did the film grip him to the end, but when he thought about it, he found himself unable to rationalize the ending and so had to say it didn’t work?

Let’s take a look at his review. I don’t expect to answer those questions, but I do want to show that, in view of what he actually said, they are reasonable questions.

Here’s his statement of the film’s greatness:

“Apocalypse Now,” in spite of its limited perspective on Vietnam, its churning, term-paperish exploration of Conrad and the near incoherence of its ending, is a great movie. It grows richer and stranger with each viewing, and the restoration of scenes left in the cutting room two decades ago has only added to its sublimity.

Yes, he lists limitations, but then says it’s “a great movie.” Not near-great, not very good. But great. And then he tells us that it “grows richer and stranger with each viewing” and that the restored material “has only added to its sublimity.” Like, maybe I should stop writing this post and watch the film again. Right now!

But I won’t. Here’s his criticism:

The main criticism of “Apocalypse Now,” which the new version does not quite dispel, is that it falls apart at the end, with the arrival of Marlon Brando and the apparent departure of the screenplay. In the long final montage, you can feel the tight weave of story, theme, sound and vision come unraveled, as artifice compensates for the faltering of artistry. The disappointment of the final 45 minutes or so — which now, happily, is a smaller proportion of the whole — comes not from its confusion but from its superfluity.

So, did he really “feel” things unraveling? Was he bored, distracted, confused? Or is it, as I’ve suggested, that he was still gripped, but now that’s he’s writing, he can’t explain why he was gripped?

I ask because we often find it difficult to understand our feelings in life, so why not in art as well? It is the critic’s job to make sense of his (or her) response to a work of art. But that is a difficult job, and like most jobs, it depends on prior art. Generations of critics have written about novels and now movies and have, in the process, provided ways of talking about them, of comprehending them, and of evaluating them. What happens when something new comes along, something that doesn’t fit established patterns of comprehension and explanation?

A critic might dismiss it altogether. Or a critic might say it’s great, but flawed, which is what Scott is saying about Apocalypse Now Redux. I don’t doubt that there are flawed masterpieces, nor do I mean to suggest that Apocalypse Now Redux is flawless. But, I have argued at some length that the ending makes sense. Whatever flaws the film has, that ending isn’t one of them. That ending is inspired and brilliant.

All I’m asking is: If Scott had had access a conception that showed why the ending fit the film, would he written a different review?

Let’s give him the last word. Here’s how he ended his review:

But how else could it end? It is fruitless and arrogant to second-guess “Apocalypse Now,” especially after Mr. Coppola, with the help of Mr. Murch and the encouragement of Miramax, has so brilliantly second-guessed himself. It is worth seeing now, in a form closer to definitive than previous versions, and it will be worth seeing 22 years from now, when its lucidity and murk will resolve in new ways for new eyes. To paraphrase Che Guevara on the subject of Vietnam, there are two, three, many Apocalypses.