John Boorman and the first 3½ minutes of ‘Deliverance’
In his quick answer to the question, What was the New Hollywood Movement?, Jeff Saporito concludes:
What is more interesting is the notion that the director had creative control of the film. Boorman proves this within the first five minutes of ‘Deliverance’. So, it is on these opening few minutes of camera work that I want to focus.
Probably showing my ignorance of the technicalities of film-making, ‘Deliverance’ opens with what I’d say is a tracking shot. The camera is positioned mid-stream, slightly above the water’s surface, focused on the river bank. But it is moving.
As we watch, the camera, moving faster than the water, tracks away from the bank, but not before the credit “A John Boorman Film” is blazoned across the screen. We are left in no doubt just who is in control of what we are seeing. This is the vision of the director.
The river bank that we see is wild and overgrown, trees growing straight out of the river. Importantly, it is a scene untouched by the hand of man. Yet, it is on this side of the river that the director’s name and ownership of the film appears. Boorman positions himself on the side of the natural landscape and thus against that which lies on the other side. In order to capture the shot, however, he has had to bring an entire film crew into this wilderness, and, however pared down this particular crew might be, it remains a modern technological invasion of the very world he’d like to see left untouched.
As the camera begins to move away from the relative safety of the bank, the credits continue. The names of the two stars, Jon Voight and Burt Reynolds, appear as we move more towards the centre of the river. We know now that the fate of these two men, the characters they play, will depend upon their navigation of this apparently tame stretch of water. There are no white-water rapids in these opening seconds of the film. So, as much as their lives might depend upon it, they are blissfully unaware of what lies ahead. They will underestimate this river at their peril. That the two names appear while still close to the bank implies that they have not yet taken seriously just how dangerous the river can be, that they are confident they will be able to deal with whatever comes their way.
It is only as the camera reaches the centre of the river that the movie’s title appears, confirming for us the viewer that these characters are in for a life-changing experience. ‘Deliverance’ carries a religious connotation, implying that one is ‘saved’ by the Hand of God, as were the Israelites from the land of Egypt. (cf. Exodus 13:17 – 14:31) Any such experience is meant to form the basis of a faith in the God who saves. While we shouldn’t miss the implications of the title, we should note that there is little sign of a Redeemer who is likely to intervene on behalf of these characters. We are left to wonder, then, in what or who they will place their faith and just how it will change them?
The title disappears as we reach the other bank of the river. As it does so, we are immediately confronted with a big yellow truck, an earth-mover. The land is being reshaped in our image and nature is to be controlled – in this instance, by the dam that will flood this valley and deliver the river wild into the calm depths of a vast lake.
The camera now constantly transitions from one shot to another, emphasizing the constant movement and industriousness of the labour that will transform this landscape. It is not to be stopped as it bulldozes and shifts the earth into the shape designed by those who likely have no personal experience of the world they will soon make disappear. It is now we get the first wide shot, showing the vastness of the operation. Having kept so close to the water, making us feel as if we ourselves were in a canoe, this change in perspective forces us away from a personal connection with the land, confronting us with the question of whether this marvel of modern need and technology is worth the cost of what is to be lost. It is clear the film would have us condemn this brutal rape of the land.
As the camera continues on its way, as the river once again becomes visible on the other side of this man-made obstruction, the names of the two co-stars, Ned Beatty and Ronny Cox, appear. It is significant that they move from the land and out over the water, just as it should be noted that the camera is no longer so close to the surface – these names float high above the river. These two are more attached to the world they have temporarily left behind. While they have agreed to take part in this adventure, it never becomes a personal odyssey for them. It is only a moment away from what they expect soon to return to – the civilized world, where men such as these feel safe and able to live without concern for the wild and untouched places, the world where fish don’t have to be hunted with a bow and arrow. There is nothing tying them to this land which, to them, is but an alternative to a weekend of golf.
Then, just when we think we are safely back in the wilderness, as we see the river winding off into the distance there is a sudden cut and we are back at the construction site just in time to witness the dynamiting of the land. This river, which has cut its way through the landscape over millennia will cataclysmically disappear in but a moment.
One minute and thirty seconds into the movie, the camera suddenly stops moving. Immediately after watching the dust cloud of the explosion, we cut to a scene of tree tops, mountains and cloudy skies. And the camera stops, forcing us to look, to fully realise just what it is that we destroy in our insatiable need for power and water sports. But this still shot, and the one that follows, gives us hope. That, no matter what we do to the land, it will remain. This sky looked down on these mountains, watching these trees grow, long before man’s footprint scarred the land. And they will look down upon this land long after man has gone, and the wilderness forgets he was ever there.
As if to prove this point, before the camera moves, a yellow International Harvester Scout drives across the screen – from left to right, that is, heading out of damnation in the direction of the saved, or delivered. More significantly though is the visual of the car passing through the landscape, there one moment, gone the next.
It is followed closely by another car. Both carry canoes but there are some very noticeable differences between the two. Because we’re not listening to the dialogue, we cannot at this point say which characters are in which car. We can, however, say something about the characters. The lead car, and that position is important, seems more suitable to the terrain than does the more family-type car that follows. Likewise, the aluminium canoe atop the Scout implies someone more prepared for, or familiar with, the nature of the river they are to navigate. Certainly, it would appear to be more durable than the wooden canoe atop the follow car.
For a couple of seconds after the cars have passed, the camera stays still. We have literally just watched the coming and going of humanity and the – ultimately – insignificance of their presence in this wilderness.
Our next view of the cars is from a place ahead of them. As we watch them come towards us we can tell something else about the characters within – or the drivers, at least. The Scout hugs the white line in the center of the road, whereas the family car keeps inside, closer to the verge. The Scout is just that little bit more prepared to live dangerously, confident of always being in control as opposed to the more timid family car. This may just be an illusion, or over-confidence, on the part of the Scout. As the two cars round the bend in the next view of them, when they have now left behind the smooth road surfaces of their world and drive now on a dirt road, they are more nearly driving the same line. Whatever view they may have of themselves, this wilderness will show them that they are not as different one from another as they might like to think. This fact is reinforced as we see the cars round yet another bend, but now they are moving with less speed and with not so great a distance between them. The landscape is already impacting the over-confidence of the Scout driver.
There’s a nice touch of irony at this point. As the cars approach the dwelling of some as yet unseen mountain people, it is the Scout that pulls straight up to the Gas tank. Is this a little bit of foreshadowing? Letting us in on the story to come, are we being shown that the driver of the Scout won’t have the stamina to make the journey, that at some point he will run out of gas?
Finally, and at last we get to see the characters who are taking us on this journey. After the Scout stops, two men get out. The driver immediately performing stretching exercises, the other taking a quick look around before he too tests his aching limbs. The one simply acts, does what he feels the need to do, as and when he sees fit; the other surveys his surroundings first, taking stock, making sure that what he is about to do is the right thing under the circumstances.
The family car has pulled up at the roadside and the first to exit is a man wearing a guitar. So, clearly, he is not fully immersing himself in this experience. We must doubt whether he will be quickly able to adjust to whatever situation they might have to face in the coming adventure.
The last one to exit the vehicles is a heavy-set man who, unlike the others, performs no stretching exercise. Rather, his first action is to kick something lying at the side of the road. It is a gesture of utter disdain. Whatever one’s personal feelings towards the lifestyles of others, one should never be so openly, so visibly, contemptuous. It would hardly be surprising if those to whom you show such contempt were to return the feeling just as vigorously.
Having reached this point, 03:21, in the movie we now have a clear understanding of what is at stake and who will play what role in what is to come. Such control has the director over his film he is able to tell his whole story in a fraction of the total duration. What follows is really just a playing out of the details.
It is not for me to claim that every movie from the 1970s, or even just the New Hollywood era, has such mastery over the storytelling process or the use of the camera to such revelatory effect, but there is one thing of which I am absolutely certain. What John Boorman achieves with these three and a half minutes is, in itself, miraculous and not to be repeated in this 21st century when the movie is little more than a reason to buy popcorn and soda.
Representing a productive union between studio and director in which the director takes creative control of the film, New Hollywood resulted in commercially viable pictures that explored previously taboo subjects in innovative new ways.
That male-on-male rape is so rarely depicted in film, any way in which John Boorman chose to portray it in 1972’s ‘Deliverance’ would likely have been innovatively new. But this scene has been discussed so much there’s little left to be said about it.What is more interesting is the notion that the director had creative control of the film. Boorman proves this within the first five minutes of ‘Deliverance’. So, it is on these opening few minutes of camera work that I want to focus.
Probably showing my ignorance of the technicalities of film-making, ‘Deliverance’ opens with what I’d say is a tracking shot. The camera is positioned mid-stream, slightly above the water’s surface, focused on the river bank. But it is moving.
As we watch, the camera, moving faster than the water, tracks away from the bank, but not before the credit “A John Boorman Film” is blazoned across the screen. We are left in no doubt just who is in control of what we are seeing. This is the vision of the director.
The river bank that we see is wild and overgrown, trees growing straight out of the river. Importantly, it is a scene untouched by the hand of man. Yet, it is on this side of the river that the director’s name and ownership of the film appears. Boorman positions himself on the side of the natural landscape and thus against that which lies on the other side. In order to capture the shot, however, he has had to bring an entire film crew into this wilderness, and, however pared down this particular crew might be, it remains a modern technological invasion of the very world he’d like to see left untouched.
As the camera begins to move away from the relative safety of the bank, the credits continue. The names of the two stars, Jon Voight and Burt Reynolds, appear as we move more towards the centre of the river. We know now that the fate of these two men, the characters they play, will depend upon their navigation of this apparently tame stretch of water. There are no white-water rapids in these opening seconds of the film. So, as much as their lives might depend upon it, they are blissfully unaware of what lies ahead. They will underestimate this river at their peril. That the two names appear while still close to the bank implies that they have not yet taken seriously just how dangerous the river can be, that they are confident they will be able to deal with whatever comes their way.
It is only as the camera reaches the centre of the river that the movie’s title appears, confirming for us the viewer that these characters are in for a life-changing experience. ‘Deliverance’ carries a religious connotation, implying that one is ‘saved’ by the Hand of God, as were the Israelites from the land of Egypt. (cf. Exodus 13:17 – 14:31) Any such experience is meant to form the basis of a faith in the God who saves. While we shouldn’t miss the implications of the title, we should note that there is little sign of a Redeemer who is likely to intervene on behalf of these characters. We are left to wonder, then, in what or who they will place their faith and just how it will change them?
The title disappears as we reach the other bank of the river. As it does so, we are immediately confronted with a big yellow truck, an earth-mover. The land is being reshaped in our image and nature is to be controlled – in this instance, by the dam that will flood this valley and deliver the river wild into the calm depths of a vast lake.
The camera now constantly transitions from one shot to another, emphasizing the constant movement and industriousness of the labour that will transform this landscape. It is not to be stopped as it bulldozes and shifts the earth into the shape designed by those who likely have no personal experience of the world they will soon make disappear. It is now we get the first wide shot, showing the vastness of the operation. Having kept so close to the water, making us feel as if we ourselves were in a canoe, this change in perspective forces us away from a personal connection with the land, confronting us with the question of whether this marvel of modern need and technology is worth the cost of what is to be lost. It is clear the film would have us condemn this brutal rape of the land.
As the camera continues on its way, as the river once again becomes visible on the other side of this man-made obstruction, the names of the two co-stars, Ned Beatty and Ronny Cox, appear. It is significant that they move from the land and out over the water, just as it should be noted that the camera is no longer so close to the surface – these names float high above the river. These two are more attached to the world they have temporarily left behind. While they have agreed to take part in this adventure, it never becomes a personal odyssey for them. It is only a moment away from what they expect soon to return to – the civilized world, where men such as these feel safe and able to live without concern for the wild and untouched places, the world where fish don’t have to be hunted with a bow and arrow. There is nothing tying them to this land which, to them, is but an alternative to a weekend of golf.
Then, just when we think we are safely back in the wilderness, as we see the river winding off into the distance there is a sudden cut and we are back at the construction site just in time to witness the dynamiting of the land. This river, which has cut its way through the landscape over millennia will cataclysmically disappear in but a moment.
One minute and thirty seconds into the movie, the camera suddenly stops moving. Immediately after watching the dust cloud of the explosion, we cut to a scene of tree tops, mountains and cloudy skies. And the camera stops, forcing us to look, to fully realise just what it is that we destroy in our insatiable need for power and water sports. But this still shot, and the one that follows, gives us hope. That, no matter what we do to the land, it will remain. This sky looked down on these mountains, watching these trees grow, long before man’s footprint scarred the land. And they will look down upon this land long after man has gone, and the wilderness forgets he was ever there.
As if to prove this point, before the camera moves, a yellow International Harvester Scout drives across the screen – from left to right, that is, heading out of damnation in the direction of the saved, or delivered. More significantly though is the visual of the car passing through the landscape, there one moment, gone the next.
It is followed closely by another car. Both carry canoes but there are some very noticeable differences between the two. Because we’re not listening to the dialogue, we cannot at this point say which characters are in which car. We can, however, say something about the characters. The lead car, and that position is important, seems more suitable to the terrain than does the more family-type car that follows. Likewise, the aluminium canoe atop the Scout implies someone more prepared for, or familiar with, the nature of the river they are to navigate. Certainly, it would appear to be more durable than the wooden canoe atop the follow car.
For a couple of seconds after the cars have passed, the camera stays still. We have literally just watched the coming and going of humanity and the – ultimately – insignificance of their presence in this wilderness.
Our next view of the cars is from a place ahead of them. As we watch them come towards us we can tell something else about the characters within – or the drivers, at least. The Scout hugs the white line in the center of the road, whereas the family car keeps inside, closer to the verge. The Scout is just that little bit more prepared to live dangerously, confident of always being in control as opposed to the more timid family car. This may just be an illusion, or over-confidence, on the part of the Scout. As the two cars round the bend in the next view of them, when they have now left behind the smooth road surfaces of their world and drive now on a dirt road, they are more nearly driving the same line. Whatever view they may have of themselves, this wilderness will show them that they are not as different one from another as they might like to think. This fact is reinforced as we see the cars round yet another bend, but now they are moving with less speed and with not so great a distance between them. The landscape is already impacting the over-confidence of the Scout driver.
There’s a nice touch of irony at this point. As the cars approach the dwelling of some as yet unseen mountain people, it is the Scout that pulls straight up to the Gas tank. Is this a little bit of foreshadowing? Letting us in on the story to come, are we being shown that the driver of the Scout won’t have the stamina to make the journey, that at some point he will run out of gas?
Finally, and at last we get to see the characters who are taking us on this journey. After the Scout stops, two men get out. The driver immediately performing stretching exercises, the other taking a quick look around before he too tests his aching limbs. The one simply acts, does what he feels the need to do, as and when he sees fit; the other surveys his surroundings first, taking stock, making sure that what he is about to do is the right thing under the circumstances.
The family car has pulled up at the roadside and the first to exit is a man wearing a guitar. So, clearly, he is not fully immersing himself in this experience. We must doubt whether he will be quickly able to adjust to whatever situation they might have to face in the coming adventure.
The last one to exit the vehicles is a heavy-set man who, unlike the others, performs no stretching exercise. Rather, his first action is to kick something lying at the side of the road. It is a gesture of utter disdain. Whatever one’s personal feelings towards the lifestyles of others, one should never be so openly, so visibly, contemptuous. It would hardly be surprising if those to whom you show such contempt were to return the feeling just as vigorously.
Having reached this point, 03:21, in the movie we now have a clear understanding of what is at stake and who will play what role in what is to come. Such control has the director over his film he is able to tell his whole story in a fraction of the total duration. What follows is really just a playing out of the details.
It is not for me to claim that every movie from the 1970s, or even just the New Hollywood era, has such mastery over the storytelling process or the use of the camera to such revelatory effect, but there is one thing of which I am absolutely certain. What John Boorman achieves with these three and a half minutes is, in itself, miraculous and not to be repeated in this 21st century when the movie is little more than a reason to buy popcorn and soda.
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