WARNING: REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS
The Postman is a much-disparaged film, and has a lot in common with Waterworld. Like that film, it's overlong, overwrought and overpriced. Yet also like Waterworld it's really not all that bad. Nothing special, just a plainly average film paid undue attention due to its $80 million budget and panned as a result.
Its formula: initial violent clash, romance with gratuitous sex scene, conflict, love and resolution is nothing new. The murder of Olivia Williams' husband merely exists to serve the plot, and using her rape as a character motivation is deplorable. However, in its initial stages things are actually almost watchable, and while Costner isn't the world's greatest director, he's not the worst either.
Things take a dip as soon as Costner takes on the postman mantle, where every letter he delivers is a written piece of exposition. The Mad Max references are obvious, though there are some reasonable allegories in the text. And where Max itself was inspired by "man with no name" western idents, so too Costner's titular character has only "Shakespeare" as a moniker.
An oddity is the fact that the advertising billboards give us the year in which it's set as 2013, yet this is never revealed on screen. Rather odd that to discover major plot points you don't have to watch the film, but look at the marketing. Into this Costner emerges as a saviour in a post-apocalyptic America. The "back to basics" stance isn't always subtle. In one scene Costner's battered hero lets out a series of guttural groans as he discovers a cigarette lighter a parody of the caveman discovering fire. The humour is also a little naive, with the postman falsely claiming that the president is Ringo Starr and his policies come from Sgt.Pepper lyrics. Yet Costner's unsure delivery (no pun intended) lends them a sort of feckless charm.
However, his postman guise must be effective because as soon as he dons the cap and shaves he becomes completely unrecognisable to Will Patton. Patton co-stars as a hard case villain who can beat large men in six second fights, sets fire to American flags and cuts off tongues and testicles. Of course, it's a little hard to believe that a redheaded balding beardie is so tough so most of this is revealed via dialogue. While not a bad actor, the one-note, singular dynamic of the role does start to get rather tiresome. "Take two character dimensions into the shower? Not me!" Larenz Tate, making an appearance as the token black kid in a Hollywood movie, reaches Sunset Boulevard levels of screen realism. Choke back on them crocodile tears, son. And somebody get Tom Petty some acting lessons, for God's sake!
While the first half of this film is so-so entertainment, the conclusion sees it's ultimate distillation into overearnest sentimentality. In fact, it's often so extreme it makes The Sha, er, Patriot seem underplayed. Costner talks about "beating back vomit, er, despair, and replacing it with hope" as teary-eyed, impossibly white-teethed youngsters salute and look on with patriotic pride. Silly quotes, er, soliloquies abound, with Costner being told "you give out hope like it was candy in your pocket." Just when you think you can't heave your guts up any more, Costner gets a daughter... named Hope. Mind you, he was lucky to get Olivia pregnant after just one attempt.
In fact, I dunno why I started reappraising it now, as it's rubbish, really, ain't it? The sort of mealy-mouthed, sentimental/gung-ho tripe, so saccharine it will give you the cinematic equivalent of tooth decay. And didn't you just know the film would end with a slug match between Costner and Patton? I mean, I'm soft, but I could have him, no problem. Probably the stumbling block with this review was that I made the mistake of taking down notes and thoughts at the half-way point. Every time I wrote "it's not that bad" something would happen to make me realise it really IS that bad. Still, I've seen worse. Not very often, but I have... I think... 4/10.
The Postman is a much-disparaged film, and has a lot in common with Waterworld. Like that film, it's overlong, overwrought and overpriced. Yet also like Waterworld it's really not all that bad. Nothing special, just a plainly average film paid undue attention due to its $80 million budget and panned as a result.
Its formula: initial violent clash, romance with gratuitous sex scene, conflict, love and resolution is nothing new. The murder of Olivia Williams' husband merely exists to serve the plot, and using her rape as a character motivation is deplorable. However, in its initial stages things are actually almost watchable, and while Costner isn't the world's greatest director, he's not the worst either.
Things take a dip as soon as Costner takes on the postman mantle, where every letter he delivers is a written piece of exposition. The Mad Max references are obvious, though there are some reasonable allegories in the text. And where Max itself was inspired by "man with no name" western idents, so too Costner's titular character has only "Shakespeare" as a moniker.
An oddity is the fact that the advertising billboards give us the year in which it's set as 2013, yet this is never revealed on screen. Rather odd that to discover major plot points you don't have to watch the film, but look at the marketing. Into this Costner emerges as a saviour in a post-apocalyptic America. The "back to basics" stance isn't always subtle. In one scene Costner's battered hero lets out a series of guttural groans as he discovers a cigarette lighter a parody of the caveman discovering fire. The humour is also a little naive, with the postman falsely claiming that the president is Ringo Starr and his policies come from Sgt.Pepper lyrics. Yet Costner's unsure delivery (no pun intended) lends them a sort of feckless charm.
However, his postman guise must be effective because as soon as he dons the cap and shaves he becomes completely unrecognisable to Will Patton. Patton co-stars as a hard case villain who can beat large men in six second fights, sets fire to American flags and cuts off tongues and testicles. Of course, it's a little hard to believe that a redheaded balding beardie is so tough so most of this is revealed via dialogue. While not a bad actor, the one-note, singular dynamic of the role does start to get rather tiresome. "Take two character dimensions into the shower? Not me!" Larenz Tate, making an appearance as the token black kid in a Hollywood movie, reaches Sunset Boulevard levels of screen realism. Choke back on them crocodile tears, son. And somebody get Tom Petty some acting lessons, for God's sake!
While the first half of this film is so-so entertainment, the conclusion sees it's ultimate distillation into overearnest sentimentality. In fact, it's often so extreme it makes The Sha, er, Patriot seem underplayed. Costner talks about "beating back vomit, er, despair, and replacing it with hope" as teary-eyed, impossibly white-teethed youngsters salute and look on with patriotic pride. Silly quotes, er, soliloquies abound, with Costner being told "you give out hope like it was candy in your pocket." Just when you think you can't heave your guts up any more, Costner gets a daughter... named Hope. Mind you, he was lucky to get Olivia pregnant after just one attempt.
In fact, I dunno why I started reappraising it now, as it's rubbish, really, ain't it? The sort of mealy-mouthed, sentimental/gung-ho tripe, so saccharine it will give you the cinematic equivalent of tooth decay. And didn't you just know the film would end with a slug match between Costner and Patton? I mean, I'm soft, but I could have him, no problem. Probably the stumbling block with this review was that I made the mistake of taking down notes and thoughts at the half-way point. Every time I wrote "it's not that bad" something would happen to make me realise it really IS that bad. Still, I've seen worse. Not very often, but I have... I think... 4/10.