This
      Week:
      Dances
      With
      Wolves
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      your
      eyes
      deceive
      you
      not.
      This
      week
      is
     
    

    
     
      our
      2nd
      annual
      humour
      issue,
      and
      in
     
     
      that
      vein
      I
      decided
      to
      review
      this
      critically
     
     
      acclaimed,
      politically
      correct,
      socially
      aware,
     
     
      Oscar-laden,
      three
      hours
      and
      one
      minute
      long
     
     
      darling
      of
      the
      screen.
      As
      you
      may
      have
      guessed
     
     
      from
      the
      foregoing
      sentence,
      there
      is
      a
      certain
     
     
      amount
      of
      hostility
      on
      my
      part
      towards
      this
     
     
      film.
      I
      leave
      it
      up
      to
      the
      psychology
      students
     
     
      among
      you
      to
      decide
      why.
     
    

    
     
      For
      the
      three
      people
      in
      the
      audience
      (you
     
     
      know
      who
      you
      are)
      who
      haven’t
      as
      yet
      seen
      the
     
     
      movie/
      read
      the
      reviews/
      watched
      Siskel
      and
     
     
      Ebert
      to
      see
      their
      cute
      thumbs/
      heard
      about
      it
     
     
      from
      friends/
      seen
      it
      on
      the
      news/
      read
      the
      back
     
     
      of
      the
      case
      at
      the
      video
      store,
      Dances
      With
     
     
      Wolves
      is
      the
      saga
      of
      U.S.
      Lieutenant
      John
     
     
      Dunbar,
      who
      is
      rewarded
      for
      his
      near
      suicidal
     
     
      heroism
      on
      the
      front
      lines
      of
      the
      Civil
      War
      (he
     
     
      actually
      was
      trying
      to
      commit
      suicide.
      Couldn’t
     
     
      get
      that
      right
      either,
      eh
      Kev?)
      by
      being
      assigned
     
     
      to
      an
      abandoned
      fort
      on
      the
      frontier.
      He
      likes
      the
     
     
      solitude.
      He’s
      been
      assigned
      to
      more
      or
      less
     
     
      keep
      an
      eye
      on
      a
      Sioux
      tribe
      camping
      near
      the
     
     
      remote
      outpost.
      But
      instead
      of
      them
      killing
      him
     
     
      or
      him
      killing
      them,
      the
      two
      overcome
      mutual
     
     
      distrust
      and
      become
      friends.
      Kind
      of
      like
      an
     
     
      anthropological
      twist
      on
      Never
      Cry
      Wolf,
      is
      it
     
     
      not?
     
    

    
     
      And
      then,
      after
      one
      hour
      of
      John
      getting
      to
     
     
      know
      the
      Native
      Americans
      and
      one
      hour
      of
     
     
      John
      being
      a
      Native
      American
      and
      one
      minute
     
     
      ofcredits,
      it’s
      over.
      Three
      hours
      and
      one
      minute
     
     
      total.
      It’ll
      take
      ‘em
      two
      instalments
      to
      run
      it
      on
     
     
      the
      networks.
     
    

    
     
      But
      I
      digress.
      Even
      though
      it
      absolutely
     
     
      gushes
      with
      sentimentality
      and
      social
      signifi-
     
     
      cance,
      it’s
      actually
      quite
      an
      entertaining
      film.
     
     
      It’s
      well
      paced,
      with
      its
      cheap
      gags
      or
      socially
     
     
      relevant
      symbolic
      scenes
      placed
      in
      just
      the
      right
     
     
      places.
      The
      scriptwriter
      and
      the
      director
      (Kevin
     
    
   
   
    
     
      B
      etcha
      thought
      I
      was
      kidding,
      eh?
      No,
     
    
   
   
    
     
      18
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Costner,
      again)
      do
      excellent
      jobs
      of
      banging
     
     
      contrasts
      together
      until
      your
      ears
      ring.
      They
     
     
      play
      Good
      Indian/
      Bad
      Indian
      with
      us
      by
      show-
     
     
      ing
      the
      patient,
      contemplative
      Sioux
      against
      the
     
     
      violent,
      brutal,
      unthinking
      Pawnee.
      They
      bash
     
     
      the
      lifestyle
      of
      the
      Sioux
      against
      the
      ‘‘ciyi-
     
     
      lized’?
      white
      man’s
      culture.
      They
      cast
      the
      dif-
     
     
      ference
      between
      white
      hunter
      and
      ‘‘red’’
      hunter
     
     
      in
      a
      blinding
      light.
      You
      come
      out
      of
      this
      film
     
     
      punch
      drunk
      from
      all
      the
      SIGNIFICANCE.
      You
     
     
      come
      out
      (a
      drumroll,
      please)
      SOCIALLY
     
     
      AWARE
      OF
      THE
      PLIGHT
      OF
      THE
      NATIVE
     
     
      AMERICAN.
      Atleast
      it’s
      not
      an
      overtly
      preachy
     
     
      film.
      That
      would
      have
      been
      unbearable.
     
    

    
     
      The
      calibre
      of
      the
      various
      actors
      is
      another
     
     
      one
      of
      those
      contrasts
      that
      bugs
      me.
      There
      are
     
     
      only
      two
      parts
      in
      this
      film
      that
      are
      badly
      acted.
     
     
      Everyone
      else
      turns
      in
      a
      sterling
      performance,
     
     
      from
      the
      cavalry
      assholes
      to
      the
      Sioux
      children.
     
     
      Stands
      With
      A
      Fist
      (a
      white
      woman
      raised
      by
     
     
      the
      Sioux
      and
      John’s
      love
      interest),
      played
      by
     
     
      Mary
      McDonnell,
      does
      a
      perfect
      job
      of
      portray-
     
     
      ing
      her
      character.
      Even
      the
      stereotypical
      “‘hot-
     
     
      headed
      young
      warrior’’
      Wind
      In
      His
      Hair
      is
     
     
      well
      acted.
      The
      wolf
      and
      the
      horse
      could
      win
     
     
      Oscars
      themselves
      if
      the
      Academy
      wasn’t
      so
     
     
      dominated
      by
      other
      species.
      But
      it’s
      those
      two
     
     
      awful
      performances
      that
      stick
      in
      your
      throat
      as
     
     
      you
      try
      to
      swallow
      this
      unchewable
      movie.
      Who
     
     
      are
      these
      transgressors
      who
      ruin
      a
      perfectly
     
     
      good
      overrated
      flick?
      Well,
      first
      and
      least
      1io-
     
     
      ticeable,
      the
      Pawnee
      Indians
      as
      a
      whole.
      The
     
     
      Pawnee
      have
      at
      most
      three
      lines
      of
      dialogue
      that
     
     
      don’t
      consist
      of
      that
      tried
      and
      true
      howl,
      ‘‘Ah
     
     
      wa
      Wa
      Wa
      Wa
      wa
      wa’’
      and
      spend
      much
      of
      their
     
     
      time
      killing
      lone
      men
      in
      incredibly
      brutal
      fash-
     
     
      ions.
      Fortunately
      these
      embarrassments
      don’t
     
     
      appear
      on-screen
      that
      often.
     
    

    
     
      The
      second
      transgressor
      is
      Kevin
      Costner.
     
     
      There
      is
      no
      way
      around
      it:
      the
      man
      cannot
      act.
     
     
      I
      suspected
      as
      much
      after
      Field
      of
      Dreams,
      but
     
     
      I
      blamed
      the
      script
      for
      that
      (For
      those
      of
      you
     
    
   
   
    
     
      who
      missed
      it
      the
      last
      three
      times
      A.T.V.
      broad-
     
     
      cast
      it,
      Field
      of
      Dreams
      features
      long,
      narrative
     
     
      sentences
      acted
      on-screen
      that
      explain
      what
      -
     
     
      Costner’s
      character
      is
      feeling
      without
      resorting
     
     
      to
      oh,
      say,
      writing
      an
      actual
      script)
      His
      wooden
     
     
      voiceovers
      may
      be
      the
      only
      thing
      that
      kept
      the
     
     
      film
      from
      being
      five
      hours
      long,
      but
      they’re
      still
     
     
      wooden
      and
      they
      suck.
      His
      physical
      acting
      and
     
     
      body
      language
      are
      fine,
      but
      Costner
      delivers
      all
     
     
      his
      lines
      as
      if
      he’s
      still
      lost
      in
      that
      field,
      telling
     
     
      everybody
      what
      he
      thought
      of
      his
      father.
      And
     
     
      there’s
      no
      escaping
      him
      because
      he’s
      in
      every
     
    
   
   
    
     
      -
      scene.
      His
      B-movie
      acting
      makes
      a
      lot
      of
      stuff
     
    
   
   
    
     
      in
      Dances
      With
      Wolves
      unintentionally
      funny.
     
     
      He
      was
      much
      better
      in
      Robin
      Hood:
      Prince
      of
     
     
      Thieves.
      Wonder
      why
      Siskel
      didn’t
      pick
      up
      on
     
     
      that?
      The
      one
      point
      in
      his
      favour,
      so
      my
      sister
     
     
      says,
      is
      his
      butt.
     
    

    
     
      Stuff
      to
      Watch
      For:
      Here’s
      where
      I
      usually
     
     
      list
      the
      silliest
      part
      of
      the
      B-movie
      I’m
      review-
     
     
      ing.
      You
      know,
      those
      endearingly
      stupid
      parts
     
     
      ofareally
      awful
      movie
      that
      elevate
      it
      to
      sublime
     
     
      slapstick?
      Well,
      there
      are
      lots
      of
      them
      here.
      The
     
     
      first
      five
      minutes
      of
      the
      movie
      showing
      John
     
     
      Dunbar
      trying
      to
      commit
      suicide
      by
      riding
      a
     
     
      horse
      down
      the
      Confederate
      front,
      but
      no
      one
     
     
      hits
      him,
      let
      alone
      the
      horse;
      any
      scene
      with
     
     
      Two-Socks
      the
      wolf
      in
      it,
      because
      he’s
      such
      a
     
     
      great
      actor;
      the
      comedy
      with
      the
      horse;
      the
     
     
      frontiersman
      who
      refuses
      to
      die
      even
      with
      five
     
     
      arrows
      in
      his
      vital
      organs;
      so
      much
      blood
      and
     
     
      guts
      and
      violence
      that
      even
      Freddy
      Krueger
     
     
      would
      puke;
      Kevin
      Costner
      acting
      badly;
      Kick-
     
     
      ing
      Bird
      and
      Wind
      In
      His
      Hair
      holding
      a
      mafia-
     
     
      like
      conference
      on
      whether
      of
      not
      to
      kill
      John
     
     
      Dunbar;
      the
      fat
      little
      guy
      who
      assigns
      Dunbar
     
     
      his
      post
      lapsing
      into
      feudal
      terminology
      and
     
     
      referring
      to
      Costner
      as
      a
      brave
      knight;
      and,
      ina
     
     
      further
      parallel
      to
      Never
      Cry
      Wolf,
      a
      scene
     
     
      where
      Dunbar
      confronts
      an
      Indians
      while
      dressed
     
     
      in
      naught
      but
      his
      scarf
      (so
      fans
      of
      Kevin’s
      butt
     
     
      may
      rejoice,
      one
      assumes).
     
    

    
     
      A
      Scene
      To
      Avoid:
      Here’s
      the
      one
      scene
      in
     
     
      the
      whole
      film
      that
      pisses
      me
      off
      to
      no
      end.
      Near
     
     
      the
      end
      of
      the
      movie,
      there’s
      a
      scene
      where
     
     
      Two-Socks
      gets
      shot
      at
      for
      five
      minutes
      by
      a
     
     
      bunch
      of
      Cavalry
      yahoos
      before
      the
      director
     
     
      decides
      to
      stop
      yanking
      your
      chain
      and
      they
      hit
     
     
      him.
      That
      PISSES
      ME
      OFF!
      There
      was
      no
      need
     
     
      to
      shoot
      the
      wolf
      in
      the
      first
      place,
      because
     
     
      Dunbar’s
      oh-so-cute
      horse
      had
      already
      been
     
     
      perforated
      in
      a
      drawn-out
      death
      scene
      of
      its
     
     
      own.
      There
      was
      also
      no
      need
      of
      dragging
      out
     
     
      this
      scene,
      or
      indeed
      showing
      the
      death
      of
      Two-
     
     
      Socks
      in
      explicit
      detail.
      I
      have
      a
      soft
      spot
      for
     
     
      wolves,
      you
      see,
      and
      even
      a
      faked
      wolf
      death
     
     
      send
      me
      off
      on
      a
      tangent.
      I
      felt
      like
      killing
      the
     
     
      first
      (and
      possibly
      second
      and
      third)
      person
      I
     
     
      met
      after
      watching
      ‘‘Crying
      Wolf?’
      on
      The
     
     
      Nature
      of
      Things,
      and
      the
      Yukon
      wolf
      kills
     
     
      going
      on
      right
      now
      make
      me
      want
      to
      go
      hunt
     
     
      some
      wolf-killers.
      So
      this
      scene
      left
      me
      enraged
     
     
      rather
      than
      sad,
      and
      all
      because
      Costner
      thought
     
     
      the
      wolf
      had
      to
      be
      killed
      off
      to
      maintain
      the
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      continued
      on
      page
      20