Apocalypse Now

A postmodern hero, whose darkness is as real as the evil that he tries to defeat.

To say that Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now is one of the greatest movies of all time is as obvious a statement as, say, Phoenix, Arizona is really hot in mid-July. Moviegoers do not need my words to convince them to see this masterpiece. All they really need to do is look at the honor and prestige that time has granted it. Has there ever been a more celebrated, more controversial, more painstaking film about Vietnam? Greater, better film critics that came before me have accurately described its unique storytelling, its brilliant depictions of war, its mesmerizing soundtrack and cinematography, its unforgettably poignant ending, and its flawless acting from Brando, Sheen, and the rest. It seems that everything that can be said about it has already been said. What more can I possibly add, except an echo that it is, without a doubt, the single greatest film made on the topic of war ever made?

Because of this, I had already decided long ago not to write a review on Apocalypse Now, and up until two weeks ago, I still didn’t have an interest in doing so. However, I recently re-read Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, of which this film is an update, and I was struck by some key differences in the text and the film as modernist and postmodernist works, respectively. I was inspired to write an essay comparing the book and film. This article, then, is not a review of Apocalypse Now. We have plenty of those already. Rather, it is a comparison/contrast of the modernist Conrad and the postmodernist Coppola, and how these two brilliant artists managed to create the same themes by tackling the subject matter from completely different angles.

If you are an intellectual/English geek like I am and this sounds like your bag, read on. If not, there’s always Roger Ebert or Leonard Maltin. That said, you won’t want to read this until you have seen the film, as it contains some plot spoilers.

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The key difference between modernism and postmodernism is aloofness, or lack thereof. Whereas modernism tries to distance itself from societal structures and observe its world external from culture, postmodernism embraces the same culture and the way of life that society is embracing. While both styles of writing are pessimistic, apocalyptic, and generally critical of the way that society works, it is generally understood that modernists write from outside the circle, while postmodernists write from the circle’s very heart. As a result of this key difference, these two writing genres reach the same conclusions about society—the loss of a cultural center—by two different methods. By remaining aloof, modernist writers stumble upon the apocalyptic scenarios of their society only after a distant observation. By embracing culture and jumping into it full-force, postmodern writers are always aware of the darkness in society, because by embracing culture, they constantly experience its depravity.

This essential difference between the two genres is made clear when we compare Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, a modernist work, to Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now, the postmodern film adaptation of Conrad’s novel. While these works share the same basic storyline and themes, the nature of their protagonists is what distinguishes Conrad’s work as modern and Coppola’s as postmodern; while one’s aloofness leads to his discovery of human depravity, the other’s direct contact with humanity simply confirms the depravity that he already knows exists.

Conrad’s Marlow is the modernist protagonist. He a wanderer and a sailor, aloof and distant from society, whose journey to find Kurtz leads him to a discovery of the darkness within all men. When we are introduced to Marlow, his wandering and curious spirit is immediately apparent:

[He] followed the sea […] a seaman, but we was a wanderer too, while most seamen lead, if one may so express it, a sedentary life. […] But Marlow was not typical, and to him the meaning of an episode was not inside like a kernel but outside, developing the tale which brought it out only as a glow brings out a haze, in the likeness of one of these misty holes that sometimes are made visible by the spectral illuminations of the moonshine. (1959-60)

This description clearly establishes Marlow as a man who would rather stand at a distance from society. The fact that is he a “wanderer” and “not typical” indicate that he stands apart from other seamen. To him, an “episode” is developed by an “outside” observer, not by someone involved with what he is recording. That Conrad likens Marlow’s observations to the way a “glow brings out a haze” also indicates that the meaning of the seaman’s observations only come with illumination. Even though the haze is always around Marlow, it is only discovered after light has made it clear. If we follow Marlow’s method of aloof observer to his narrative’s closing lines, his words become his final, bleak revelation about the journey that he has described. He lies to Kurtz’s fiancé about her lover’s final words because the truth “would have been too dark—too dark altogether” (2016). Here he has at last turned on the light and sees the haze. Darkness and depravity has been revealed to him.

Compare Marlow to Coppola’s Willard, and we realize that the latter is clearly a postmodern protagonist. At the beginning of the film, he is already a time-scarred war hero who has already taken his journey and knows that mankind is deprived. His journey to find Kurtz only confirms this knowledge and turns him darker still. When Willard is assigned the mission to "terminate" the deranged colonel, the solider laments, "How many people [have] I already killed? There was [sic] those six that I know about for sure. Close enough to blow their last breath on my face. [...] I [will take] the mission. What the hell else [am] I gonna do?" Thus, Willard decides to find Kurtz almost out of desperation, as if killing an American colonel is just the next progressive step after he has already killed the enemy. Willard is not a wanderer or a distant observer like Marlow, but a soldier and an instigator who is fully involved with the world around him. Willard does not need a glow to know that the haze is present. He is aware of the haze because he has experienced it first hand.

Because of his active involvement in the world's depravity, Willard's final conclusions are in sharp contrast to Marlow's. Marlow recognizes "the horror" of his experiences only at the end of his meeting with Kurtz. Willard's encounter with Kurtz only gives him more anxiety as he realizes that even though the American soldiers in Vietnam long for home, he has "been back there, and I [know] that it just [doesn't] exist anymore." While Marlow was distant from the world before Kurtz, Willard was already living within the world before Kurtz. After Kurtz, the world around Willard has grown so depraved and lost that even returning home cannot save him from its darkness. For Willard now, there is no distinction between Vietnam and home - the entire world has been transformed into "horror." While Marlow only realizes this truth as he confronts Kurtz' fiancé, Willard knows of the "horror" all along, and Kurtz's only true revelation is that Willard is trapped forever in darkness.

When we look at Heart of Darkness and Apocalypse Now, we see the same themes throughout: human depravity, colonialism (mining colonies in Conrad's novel, American infiltration of Vietnam in Coppola's film), an overall pessimistic tone, and apocalyptic plunges into darkness. In this way, the modern and postmodern works strike similar notes. The difference is found in the persons of Marlow and Willard. By keeping society at an arm's length, Marlow remains a modernist hero--distant and antisocial, and capable of learning. By knowing and living in the heart of society, Willard is the postmodern hero--involved, embracing, and fully aware of "the horror, the horror" from the beginning of his tale.

Click here to read my review of Hearts of Darkness, the making of Apocalypse Now.
Click here to read my review of Farewell to the King, a reimagining of this film.

Cast:
Martin Sheen: Willard
Marlon Brando: Kurtz
Robert Duvall: Kilgore
Dennis Hopper: Photojournalist
Frederick Forrest: Chef
Albert Hall: Chief Quartermaster Phillips

A Zoetrope Pictures release. Directed by Francis Ford Coppola. Written by Coppola and John Milius, from the novella Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. Rated R, for graphic violence and language. Running time: 153 minutes. Original United States theatrical release date: August 15, 1979.

Work cited:

Conrad, Joseph. “Heart of Darkness.” The Norton Anthology of English Literature,
Volume 2C: The Twentieth Century. Eds. M.H. Abrams, Stephen
Greenblat, Jack Stillinger. New York and London: Norton, 2000. 1958-2017.