A movie review by James BerardinelliThe crown jewel of 1995's summer blockbusters appears to have arrived early. It's hard to imagine any motion picture released between now and August matching Mel Gibson's Braveheart for spectacle. With its clashing armies, heartstopping action, and grand sense of romance, this is the sort of film it's a pleasure to see and review.
Let me state my preferences up front. I'm a big fan of the epic adventure, a category in which Braveheart, like cream, rises to the top. There's a lot in this film that's praiseworthy -- not the least of which is its ambition. Those viewing this picture may be easily reminded of Gettysburg, The Last of the Mohicans, Glory, and such classics as Lawrence of Arabia, El Cid, and Spartacus. The grandeur is certainly present; nevertheless, Gibson gives us not only memorable battles, but characters of real substance.
Borrowing from masters like Sam Peckinpah and David Lean, the actor/director has crafted an exceptional cinematic tapestry in only his sophomore effort. Most of the time, three hour movies have a few flat spots, but Braveheart is constantly on the move -- riveting from start to finish. When the end credits began to roll, I was hard pressed to accept that nearly 170 minutes had elapsed.
The title character is William Wallace (Gibson), a hero of Scottish history whose legend has surely outstripped fact (in its own unique way, the film acknowledges this). Wallace fought for Scotland's freedom in the late 13th century, wielding his broadsword and influence to defeat the forces of King Edward I (Patrick McGoohan), the British monarch who had declared himself king of Scotland upon the former ruler's demise.
Braveheart builds slowly to its first gritty climax. Much of the early film concentrates on Wallace's love for Murron (Catherine McCormack). Their courtship is unhurried, yet this is all preparation. The real meat of the story, which includes political mechanations, betrayal, and dramatic battles, is yet to come. Patrick Henry once said, "Give me liberty, or give me death!" That might well be Wallace's motto. "It's all for nothing if you don't have freedom!" The nobles of Scotland fight for land and riches, but Wallace stands for the individual, and earns respect with words and deeds.
Bulked up and wearing a long-haired wig, Gibson brings his usual wealth of charisma to the title role. Patrick McGoohan, best known from TV's Secret Agent Man and The Prisoner, is almost unrecognizable beneath a snowy beard. His Edward the Longshanks exudes an aura of cold menace. He's a worthy foe for Wallace because his intelligence matches his ruthlessness. Sophie Marceau, the French actress who plays Princess Isabelle, and Catherine McCormack are both immensely appealing.
Braveheart is a brutal, bloody motion picture, but the violence is not gratuitous. The maimings, decapitations, and other assorted gruesome details make Wallace's world seem real and immediate. In addition, few theatrical moments make a more eloquent statement against war than when Gibson shows women and children weeping over the dead on a body-littered battlefield. War is a two-headed beast, and both faces -- the glorious and the tragic -- are depicted.
Lately, certain films have come in pairs: two Robin Hoods, two Columbuses, two Earps, and now two Highlander epics. Rob Roy, the first, is a fine motion picture. Braveheart, however, is better, offering an exhilarating, and occasionally touching, experience that has viewers leaving the theater caught up in an afterglow of wonder. These days, heros like William Wallace are as rare as motion picture displays of this high, uncompromising quality.

Braveheart 勇敢的心 英语影评

Hills, bagpipes, mist, the word "Scotland" written along the bottom of the screen - it can only be one place. That's right, Wales. Nah, only joking - as if anyone would ever make a film about Wales.

Mel Gibson both directed and starred in this tartan-clad epic about William Wallace, the legendary Scottish freedom fighter/terrorist who, even way back in the 14th Century, had already had enough of the English going on about winning the World Cup in 1966. So, armed with just some rocks, a few hundred muck-dwellers and an extremely peculiar accent, he led a nation to fight for freedom from English tyranny. Or something along those lines.

It's actually fairly appropriate to be so vague about all of this, because nobody really knows all that much about the real Wallace (and most of what we do know comes from a poem). You could spend a lifetime picking apart the historical inaccuracies in the flick, and there would still be those who'd disagree with what you found.

Because of that, how much enjoyment you can get from this 177-minute beast depends largely on your willingness to accept Wallace as a charmer with biting wit and a permanently clean-shaven chin. As the sort of bloke beautiful French princesses would hand over national secrets to simply because of the way he looks at them. Or even just as a guy who doesn't smell like moss.

The most breath-taking, if gruesome, parts of the movie are the incredibly lifelike battle scenes. Putting them together must have been an immense project to undertake, but you've got to hand it to Gibbers - he does it very, very well. He also makes a likable hero figure, providing you can put to the back of your mind the fact that he's basically playing the original ned.

Personally I find the movie far too long, particularly as parts of it play like a TV advert for the Scottish Tourist Board. In one scene, for example, Wallace sprints to the top of a mountain and just stands there, kilt billowing, for no apparent reason. Anyone who's ever worn a kilt will of course know that the last place you're likely to linger is a-top a windy Scottish mountain. Talk about "freedom"!!