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'Patriot' marches toward glory
By Susan Wloszczyna, USA TODAY
EDISTO BEACH, S.C. - Palmetto trees flutter. Dolphins slice through the surf beyond the
shell-strewn sand. Extras in Colonial garb dine in the sun.
Crew chatter and children's laughter mingle with the sounds of star Mel Gibson, roughly
handsome and tan in ponytail and breeches, using a bullhorn to taunt German director
Roland Emmerich of The Patriot as he channels a mischievous spirit named Klaus.
Explains Gibson with a playful glint: "He is Roland's inner voice. When he least
expects it, Klaus will be behind him, saying sort-of-dour thoughts."

'Patriot': Mel Gibson flick comes riding into theaters this
weekend. |
Is this any way to way to win the American Revolution?
Feels more like a July Fourth picnic. At least when the cameras halt and the story of
Gibson's widowed farmer - Benjamin Martin, drawn into the fray when the British threaten
his family - isn't unfolding in all its bloody, sentimental, flag-waving glory.
A wedding, a healing hug between father and child, a long-awaited kiss. These few happy
scenes in the $100 million epic are being shot at this nearly paradisiacal locale serving
as a haven for Martin's battered brood, so the jovial mood is understandable.
Yet deceptive. Those involved behind the scenes of this 5 1/2-month shoot are waging their
own campaign. They are out to convince moviegoers, who usually see three-cornered hats and
think, "Ugh, history homework," that the War of Independence can make for
blow-you-away 21st century entertainment.
Emmerich savors the challenge. "There's never been a successful American Revolution
movie? Great, then there's something to prove."
Now the pressure is truly on, because mother studio Sony is counting on the R-rated Patriot
to pull in major Yankee Doodle dough when it opens today, in time for the long Fourth of
July weekend. It will have to square off against another big gun, Warner Bros.' The
Perfect Storm, out Friday.
And not only is The Patriot about the birth of a nation, it's about the rebirth
of the filmmaking partnership of Emmerich, 44, and producer Dean Devlin, 37. And that's no
hype.
Hype? That four-letter word got them in trouble when billboards for 1998's Godzilla
boasted "Size Does Matter." So does quality, and although the lizard flick would
go on to gross nearly $360 million worldwide, it was a huge letdown critically and
commercially from 1996's Independence Day, which set off almost $800 million in
global box office fireworks.
Says Premiere magazine's Anne Thompson: "During Godzilla, they had
the arrogance of filmmakers who have scored one of the biggest hits ever with Independence
Day. After Godzilla, they were somewhat humbled."
And ready to change. Just as Gibson's Martin adapts to conquer, so these vets of summer
movie wars revised their attack:
Change your
strategy and forge new alliances. Martin learns to trust Frenchman Jean
Villeneuve (Tcheky Karyo) as an ally. And, as a militia commander, he decides to switch to
guerrilla tactics to ambush the all-too-organized Redcoats.
Similarly, Emmerich and Devlin, whose first co-production was the 1994 sleeper Stargate,
specialize in sci-fi. But with The Patriot, they look to the past. And, for the
first time, they are making a movie from a script they didn't write, one by Robert Rodat,
hot off 1998's acclaimed World War II drama Saving Private Ryan.
It was Ryan producer Mark Gordon who approached the pair. Why did he select what
on the surface seems like an unlikely choice? "I thought Independence Day
was a perfectly made film for what it was. And if you are a good storyteller and you are
talented, you can tell a number of stories."
Both Emmerich and Devlin say it was the strength of the screenplay, not necessarily a
desire for a new direction, that attracted them to the project. "Your instinct
politically is to do the opposite," Devlin says. "To do the same thing but make
it successful. It's a big risk, but I've never read a script this good before."
Rodat decided to tackle the era because, he says, "it felt current, oddly
enough." Part of his research involved letters and journals, "and what was
striking about them were their immediacy. The concerns are identical to what you read
about in the Balkans or Kosovo. Civil wars are different. When a war takes place at home,
the conflicting responsibilities of parenthood and duty are highlighted and are more
painful."
Robert Bucksbaum of box office tracking firm Reel Source thinks it's smart that the two
filmmakers are reinventing themselves. " If they do something else and are
successful, it will open more doors."
Recruit the
right leader. The rebel military officers count on Martin, with his superior
fighting skills, to bring them closer to victory. And instead of the spectacle being the
star, as in their other movies, Emmerich and Devlin hired Gibson, one of the industry's
most consistent draws, to lead the charge. "It was hard to read the script and not
see Mel," Devlin says.
Why did Gibson enlist? For one, he never saw Godzilla. "I heard it wasn't
too good. I guess they wanted someone a little less reptilian this time."
Ultimately, the vision sold him: "Stories, the good ones, almost always are about the
heroism all of us are capable of, given the right circumstances." And he liked that
Devlin and Emmerich, relatively ego-free for Hollywood types, are collaborative fellows.
Emmerich, he says, "is the hard driver and calls the shots. Dean is constantly there
to support. They aren't screamers."
Focus on the
family. The force that drives Martin is his seven children - especially after his
eldest, Gabriel (Heath Ledger), joins the army against his wishes. And the challenge of
portraying the effects of war from a personal perspective was what inspired Rodat.
When he began to think about what would become The Patriot, the writer visited a
friend who lived in Concord, Mass. After they put their sons to bed, they grabbed a couple
of beers and went to the North Bridge, where the famous Minuteman statue stands.
"And when I looked at the statue, I knew that guy had children. And there are farms
around the bridge, and a battlefield is right there among the homes. When Benjamin and his
son watch the fighting through their window, it's very accurate."
Yes, it's a war movie. But Emmerich and Devlin have devoted themselves to selling the
picture as a family story. "Historical dramas only work if they have a story everyone
can relate to," the director says. "There's a certain fascination about war, but
that alone will never make a good movie. Gone With the Wind isn't just about the Civil
War. It's a sweeping love story."
Bucksbaum thinks the emphasis on family matters also will encourage ticket sales.
"The biggest selling point for the movie, besides that it's called The Patriot
and it's coming out during our most patriotic weekend, is the fact that he is protecting
his family. Mel was so successful in Ransom in a similar situation."
Best offense
is a good defense. Martin preys on the pride of Gen. Cornwallis (Tom Wilkinson)
and the British officers, who underestimate the might of the "rustic" forces.
Devlin and Emmerich, who usually make PG-13 fare, knew they had to prepare the public for
rather graphic combat carnage.
The producer justifies it in Godzilla terms. "The violence is a monster.
It's a horrible creature that's coming toward these people, and it has to be horrible. To
be anything else would simply glamorize the war."
To get the word out about the extreme gore, Sony showed about 45 minutes to the press in
early April. Footage included two buzzed-about shockers: A cannonball bounces and knocks a
soldier's head off, and Martin, pushed to the edge by a sadistic Brit, goes after a group
of Redcoats and hacks one with a hatchet.
Bucksbaum doesn't see a drawback. "Violence only turns off people if there's not a
purpose to it."
That was proved true during three test screenings. "When we saw how they reacted to
the violence," Devlin says, "it became clear they understood this was violence
with consequences. This was to make it ugly, not to desensitize it."
And to ward off criticism of inaccuracies, which has already reared its head over
reality-based characters, experts from the Smithsonian Institution oversaw everything from
the crops Martin grew to the peg leg worn by an actor who is an actual amputee.
The Patriot, with its John Ford-style photography and strong performances, might
not only see red, white and cash green. In a year that has coughed up few possible Oscar
contenders, it might actually put the Godzilla guys into the running for awards.
"We see tears in the audience," Devlin says, "and we are as shocked as
anybody."
And he and Emmerich may not be known for their lizard slip much longer. Says Bucksbaum:
"You are only as good as your last film. No one will remember Godzilla, but
they will always talk about The Patriot."
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