Film Review: The Last Of The Mohicans (1992) B

Date viewed: 5/27/07
Venue: DVD

Daniel Day-Lewis plays Hawkeye, an adopted Mohican in the American colonial frontier, who makes his living (along with his adopted father and brother, the real last of the Mohicans) trapping, hunting, and trading with English settlers. When violence befalls their settler friends, the peaceful trio are abruptly swept into the French-Indian War and find themselves escorting the daughters of a British general safely back to their father while fighting and evading other tribes working with the French.

The eldest daughter, Clara (Madeline Stowe), and Hawkeye fall in love during the journey, and Hawkeye vows to find her even after she is captured by the bloodthirsty indian war captain Magua (chillingly protrayed by Wes Studi), who seeks revenge against Clara's father.

Director Michael Mann delivers a real straight-forward, throwback kind of adventure film (and I don't just say throwback because the film is 15 years old). It's definitely not the swashbuckling, smarth-mouthed type of film we've become accustom to over the last twenty-five years or so. Mohicans has a naturally gritty, realistic sensibility that rings true and is a sight for sore eyes in the twenty-first century. Mann keeps the camera wide during battle scenes and does an effective job protraying the scale of the conflict (the French siege of a British fort is an especially appropriate example) while never losing sight of his obligations to character and story.

Lewis imbues Hawkeye with a classic hero's quiet stoicism and unwavering devotion (and as the image implies, he does a lot of devoted running in this picture), and Stowe does well as something a bit more independent and self-sufficient than your run-of-the-mill damsel in distress. That said, their love affair feels abrupt and rushed, like there's a scene missing somewhere. This doesn't surprise me, unconvincing romantic developments are soewhat of a Mann hallmark, see Heat and especially Miami Vice for further evidence.

At the end the day, it's Mann's simplistic approach that carries the film. The climactic sequence is a chase virtually devoid of dialog that manages to be tense, heart-wrenching, and beautiful all at the same time (big assist in this matter, as with the rest of film, is Randy Edelman and Trevor Jones' wonderful score). The elegantly simple visuals tell the story, and tell it better than words ever could. And that's a testament to strong filmaking at its finest.