Braveheart Review

Braveheart is not noted for its historical accuracies, for in the early 1300s, Scotsmen did not wear kilts and the Battle of Stirling was on a bridge (not an open battlefield). Even so, director Mel Gibson’s intent is not to retell 14^th century Scottish history. His focus is on a romanticized version of the Scottish folklore legend of William Wallace, who led a rebellion against the English king Edward the Longshanks.

The movie opens with Wallace as a young boy. Along with his father and older brother, he finds dozens of Scottish corpses hanging in a barn. Here, this quickly shows the violent tone that surrounds the film. Shortly thereafter, his father and brother are killed, and he is sent off to live with his uncle. He later returns as an adult in hopes of raising crops and a family. He is reunited with his childhood friend Murron, whom he deeply falls in love with. He then marries in secret to evade the English law that allows nobles to rape Scottish brides on their wedding day.

Wallace and Murron’s relationship is set like a romantic fairy tale; it is love at first sight for them and it is easy to sympathize and care for their romance. The love scene is particularly engaging, set at night with beautiful, chiaroscuro lighting that outlines their bodies as they passionately make love to one another in the forest. Like Romeo and Juliet, it is all too good to be true. Murron is brutally murdered and Wallace seeks revenge. This then leads to what I consider the most powerful scene in the film. Wallace rides into town, his arms outstretched as if surrendering, with melancholy painting his face. The constant shifts of close up shots between the faces of Wallace and the guards (who are to take him into custody), as well as the slow-motion of the horse’s hooves beating the muddy ground, and the emphasis of sound and music builds a sense of tension. When one of the guards stands before Wallace, grasping his horse’s reins, the expression of melancholy is replaced with rage as Wallace strikes the man in the head with a ball and chain. From here on, the romantic fairy tale is over. Violence and the brutal barbarity that we saw in the start of the film reappear with a vengeance. I found myself enjoying Wallace’s slaughter against the English guards. Why? Because I sympathize with Wallace’s rage. As a viewer, it makes you wonder on what you would do if you lost a loved one.

Though Braveheart may present as a revenge story, there is more to it than that. Wallace’s personal revenge starts an uprising in the village that soon leads to a rebellion against the English tyranny. This movie clearly shows the power and influence that one man can have over many. Like Wallace, the Scottish fighters want revenge for the atrocities that the English have forced upon them. They also want to be free from Longshanks tyranny. This is why I enjoy Braveheart so much—the concept of making a stand and fighting for what you believe in. As Wallace says before the Battle of Stirling, “They may take our lives, but they’ll never take our freedom!”

With a simple, graspable theme, Braveheart is supported by gritty set pieces, elaborate costume designs, and some of the most epic battle scenes ever delivered to cinema. The fact director Mel Gibson used thousands of extras (versus the CGI ants we see running around in Troy) makes such moments visually stunning. He is not afraid to shy away from bludgeoning, skewering, and beheadings either. His direction is beautifully done (with the help of cinematographer John Toll) who uses countless aerial views of the fair land of Scotland. This pulls the viewer right into the film's romantic vision of a wonderful land that is plagued by violence. In terms of music, James Horner’s choice of strings and mournful bagpipes is enough to create sentimentality to the viewer’s ears. The music fits the story well; creating a powerful flow that deepens into something amazing. In short, Braveheart is a Hollywood, epic masterpiece that puts films like Spartacus to shame.