Waiting for the Barbarians

Adapted by Nobel Prize winning author J.M. Coetzee from his own book, “Waiting for the Barbarians” is a timely screen retelling of the darkest (and most the most cruel) aspects of colonialism. This period film sadly reflects issues many are dealing with in present day: a society that’s relentless in its quest to oppress “the other.” An isolated frontier settlement on the border of an unnamed empire sets the stage for the epic story of a Magistrate (Mark Rylance), a kind soul who lives a routine existence respecting the rule of law, and the disquieting arrival of Colonel Joll (Johnny Depp), a menacing man that quickly turns things upside down. Joll and his minions (including Robert Pattinson as Officer Mandel) have been tasked with reporting the activities of the ‘barbarians’ — and their methods are ruthless. The Colonel terrorizes people during violent interrogations, causing the Magistrate to question his own loyalty to the empire. Eventually, he embraces kindness and attempts to rescue a young woman (Gana Bayarsaikhan) who has been abused by Joll and return her to her family. The script is laid out appropriately, with clear introductions of the characters and an easy-to-follow story. The film is told in chapters and seasons (“The Return,” set in the Spring, is the most visually stunning). It’s filled with pretty shots (from director Ciro Guerra) and gorgeous cinematography (by Chris Menges), and the period set design and costumes are as detailed as they are handsome. It’s not difficult at all to overlook the (sometimes) slow pacing because the film is so well directed. Every performance here is stellar as well, with a standout turn from Rylance. He makes it easy for viewers to sympathize with his character’s lone beacon of compassion in a violent world. He brings the idea about the way empires feel they must invent enemies to remain relevant to the most basic human level, and that’s what ultimately becomes so effective about “Waiting for the Barbarians.”

In Waiting for the Barbarians' Colonel Joll, Johnny Depp has crafted a great movie villain. I would describe him as either a colonial Darth Vader or a proto-Nazi – and concerning the latter, the character is a textbook illustration of Hannah Arendt's 'banality of evil;' perfectly circumspect, not a single hair out of place, not a single wasted motion. Depp plays the Colonel inwardly; his eyes invariably covered by round dark glasses, his face an inscrutable waxen death mask, his demeanor cold and calculating – of Captain Jack Sparrow's drunken buffoonery and shameful overacting not the slightest trace remains. Joll is, for better or for worse, the black heart and rotten soul of this film. It is said that a hero is only as good as his villain, and that's where the movie falls short. Mark Rylance's Magistrate is hopelessly meek, which makes sense seeing as how he will turn out to be a Christ-like figure; the problem is that, while he may or may not be able to carry a cross, he simply isn't fit, try as Rylance might, to carry a feature-length film. Now, Depp can't be in every scene – and he shouldn't, either; I strongly believe that to make a villain truly effective, the 'less is more' approach is the way to go. Director Ciro Guerra and screenwriter J.M. Coetzee (on whose novel the movie is based), however, put the cart in front of the horse; they introduce the film's most interesting character right off the bat, they place him front and center for a good half hour, and then they bench him for the central portion of the story. This won't do; you don't have Jaws jumping out of the water like Shamu in Sea World in the first scene. With Joll gone, the movie flatlines. Rylance's performance is by no means bad, but the only thing that hurts the Magistrate more than the comparison with Joll is the latter's absence, which turns the film's previously gained momentum into pure inertia. It's only when Depp returns, about an hour later, that the movie is shocked (as are we; ironically, the Colonel is the only barbarian here) back to life. In his final appearance, Joll's carefully constructed impassiveness comes crumbling down; not superficially, mind you, but it takes Depp a single solitary look to tell an entire, unseen story; one that is, perhaps, much more engaging than the one we have actually watched.