The director of Thunderbolt and Lightfoot, The Deer Hunter and Heavens Gate the film that brought down the 70s American New Wave leaves an indelible markMichael Cimino, director of The Deer Hunter, dies aged 77
The last time I saw Michael Cimino was actually the first time I ever saw him at the Venice film festival in 2012. He was presenting a new, digitally remastered version of his 1980 epic Heavens Gate which famously flopped horribly prior to an agonisingly slow and still disputed process of critical rehabilitation. The Venice event allowed Cimino to luxuriate in the way this film was now admired in Europe.
I was invited to a party on a palazzo terrace overlooking the Lido where Cimino was going to be present. The excitement was palpable. This was the Howard Hughes of American cinema, rarely seen in public, rumoured to be addicted to cosmetic surgery, understood to be only interested in his new career as a novelist. When I saw him I could hardly credit it: a tiny, elfin figure who remained seated in the corner, holding court to a group of admirers. He had big, dark glasses that he never removed, an inscrutable smile and an immobile helmet of dark hair. He resembled a miniature, androgynous version of a semi-retired rocker: nothing like the tough, rangy guy photographed in the 70s. I didnt dare approach him.
Like Kubrick, Cimino had by this stage amassed a huge list of unrealised projects of which the most important was his doomed plan to film Crime and Punishment. But unlike Kubrick, creative internal exile had been forced on him by failure: the overreaching calamity of Heavens Gate became known as the act of legendary hubris which brought down not merely a studio but it is alleged the whole spirit of the 70s American New Wave. After that disaster, everyone was more cautious, less inclined to indulge folies de grandeur. But Cimino can certainly claim to have been one of the greats of this great period. He had already given us an authentic American tragedy and essential anti-war document: The Deer Hunter.
Cimino had started as a director of commercials and from there made the bold move into writing screenplays, co-writing the cult sci-fi masterpiece Silent Running. But his great breakthrough was Thunderbolt And Lightfoot, his excellent western thriller with Clint Eastwood and Jeff Bridges. Eastwood had bought the script from him and sportingly allowed him to direct thus giving him the career springboard for The Deer Hunter.
The Vietnam movie was becoming an accepted genre, much criticised for focusing on American angst and being uninterested in the experiences of the Vietnamese. Arguably, The Deer Hunter fell into that template and the famous Russian roulette scene is an invention, with no relation to historical fact. The Viet Cong never did anything like this to American POWs. But as creative licence it is inspired: a blazing, horrifying image of the random death-dealing of war and the grim fact that soldiers try not to think about as they go off to battle: not all of them will die but some definitely will. Only five chambers in the revolver are empty.
The Deer Hunter is superb in that it balances home front drama with wartime action and gives each equal weight. Robert De Niro, Christopher Walken and John Savage play Pennsylvania steelworkers who like to hunt deer an activity which seems clearer, nobler and more rational than the chaos of warfare. Meryl Streep is the woman with whom more than one is in love. The men respond to the call-up to Vietnam and there is a daringly, brilliantly protracted wedding scene which precedes their departure for war and of course it is a kind of funeral for their way of life. They are far from the world of protest, hippyism and flower power.