Jack Dawson is dead.
Yeah, OK, he was dead per se, when he was frozen stiff in the icy cold waters of the Atlantic at the close of "Titanic." But thanks to a Backstreet-style cult following inside teenage girls the world over, his spirit was still alive and well inside one Leonardo DiCaprio.
But pre-Jack, Leo had always had an affinity for edgier fare; you were more likely to see him shooting H in "The Basketball Diaries" than you were to see him going for Freddie Prinze Jr. type roles. But seemingly uncomfortable with all that "Titanic" brought him, Leo went under the pop culture radar for nearly two years, surfacing only to trash a hotel room in Woody Allen's "Celebrity."
Now Leo's back and as "The Beach" would have you believe, badder than ever. How's that, you say? Not ten minutes in, he's sharing a spliff with a psycho named Daffy Duck ("Trainspotting's" das cunt Robert Carlyle), this only minutes after downing a shot of snake blood like a champ.
What ever would Rose think?
Ah, yes, and the hits keep coming. Follow "The Beach" through, and you'll see Leo eat worms, kill sharks, go mad "Deer Hunter"-style, trip out (which leads to a gnarly Leo game boy sequence), and have a prereq classic Leo screaming fit, the likes of which have not been seen since, well, Leo's last classic screaming fit.
So now that 95 percent of his fanbase has been alienated (especially given "The Beach's" R rating and American theatres' stringent new admittance policies) and the "Titanic" baggage is thrown by the wayside, Danny Boyle's ("Shallow Grave," "Trainspotting") "The Beach" is allowed to exist in and of itself.
When we first meet uprooted American Richard (Leo) as he strolls down the streets of Bangkok, he reiterates, in voice-over, the fact that he's not your average American Tourist, that he's not all about travelling overseas just to act American, drink American beers and watch American television. He so hates that whole thing, in a very Gen X-disenfranchised sort of way. So when the opportunity arises for him to drink some snake blood, hey, why not.
In his hostility he has a most strange encounter with the aforementioned Daffy Duck, who (quite cheesily) leaves him a map to an island paradise of purity and pleasure. On a whim, he invites the couple that's living next door to him to accompany him to this mysterious island which, rumor has it, is home to dope as far as the eye can see.
Not long after, Richard, Etienne (Guillaume Canet) and Francoise (Virgine Ledoyen) arrive at the beach, where their splendor is soon spoiled when they learn that this "paradise" is guarded heavily by men with guns. Narrowly evading them, the three of them end up at a dead end in the form of a 100 foot cliff. They jump.
In mid-celebration of the fact that they're still alive, they are greeted by a native of the isle, who invites them to come with him.
They accompany him to a village of some 40 people who call the island home. They have established their own community, or, as Richard puts it in voice-over, "a beach resort for people who hate beach resorts." The three of them are welcomed by the leader of the community, Sal (Tilda Swinton), who soon informs them of the ways of The Beach.
She tells them that the men with guns are there to protect the crop, and allow the community to exist on the promise that no new members are allowed to call The Beach home. Sal makes sure that Richard and company did not tell anyone else about The Beach before they left for it. Lying, he tells her that he didn't.
Well, guess what. It all falls apart, just like Sugar Ray prophesized. Paradise erodes due to the nature of man, in what I'm sure was more profoundly stated in the book. There's blood in the water, yada yada yada.
Over the course of "The Beach," Richard does a lot of self examination, and unsurprisingly so learns that the more he strives to be different the more he's the same as everyone else. He just wants to check his e-mail like the rest of us.
At least it's all done to a decently thumping and dare I say "hip" soundtrack, which finds the "Trainspotting" team employing a lot of the same bands (Blur, Underworld, Leftfield) that made the "Trainspotting" soundtrack like the highlight of life in 1996. And Danny Boyle is a very stylish and visual director, and although he often relies on gimmicks, he never bores or bogs down the viewer.
It's quite pretty to watch, and more than a few viewers will feel inclined to gasp and throw out high fives when the fields of weed are shown time and again. Leo stands out in the cast, and not just because he's the only real character on the island.
It's quite chic to rip on or write off Leo, but the fact remains that he's one of the best and boldest and coolest actors of this young generation. So quit your beachin' about him.
"The Beach" is no "Back to the Beach," "Return to Savage Beach" or "Buford's Beach Bunnies," but it far outshines the low rent Coolio vehicle "Phat Beach." And it's better than most episodes of "Baywatch."
I mean, hey, it's got social commentary! So what if it's restrained/muffled?
So good riddens, Jack Dawson. Welcome back, Leo. Line up a shot of snake blood for me, too.