The Legend of
Bagger Vance
by Lovell Mahan-Moutaw

Every once in awhile, with no forewarning, I will go to a cinema, get my diet coke and popcorn and seat myself in the perfect seat (right behind the handicap area where the railing is - no one's in front of you and you can put your feet up), and after the now inordinately long string of commercials, and the always-loved trailers, I will see the kind of movie that is the definition of why I go to the movies.

This Friday I was treated to this unusual occurrence. The movie I saw was The Legend of Bagger Vance.

I loved this movie. In fact, it knocked me out so much, it inspired me to spend Friday evening in the dark, smoking and petting my cats and making up pretty stories in my head (of course, my pretty stories had more to do with Russell Crowe than Matt Damon or Will Smith or golf or the 1930s South...but that is just a preference).

The Legend of Bagger Vance, in case you didn't know, is the story of a famous, we can easily say legendary, young golf star from Savannah. The stories of his prowess on the links were unbelievable but true. This young golf hero, Rannulph Junuh (those silly Southerners with their bizarre names) did not shirk his duty to his country, and when the call to arms was sounded, he enlisted and was shipped overseas to fight in World War I. He came out alive and with a Medal of Honor. His regiment was all killed, however, every last one of them, and the horrors he saw there made him give up his girl, give up on life and lose his swing. Or, you could say, all of this was one and the same.

His girl, Adele, was a beauty and the daughter of a wealthy man. Adele mourned the loss of her beloved Junuh for approximately ten seconds before, as any good Southern woman does, she decided to bury the hurt and get on with her life.

The Great Depression hit, Adele's Daddy went so in debt (partially because of this big golf resort he built) that he shot himself. Adele was left with a mess of debt and no money to pay it with. She decided to make a go of the resort by having a tournament there. She fended off her creditors by telling them she was going to ask the biggest golfers of the day to compete against each other at her Daddy's resort. She approached Walter Hagen and Bobby Jones and, with a little ingenuity and a whopping dose of Southern charm, she managed to get them both to compete in the tourney.

The townsfolk of Savannah decided that they needed a local hero to compete as well, so they approached Junuh. Junuh was spending his days attempting to drink the memories away. He had no interest in doing much more than that, and anyway, he'd lost his swing. More to the point, he'd lost his interest in life, preferring to dwell on the past rather than look to the future.

And then, in walks Bagger Vance.

From this point in, there is a lot of golf, a healthy dose of philosophy, a smidgeon of romance, a couple of silent struggles, some humor, a lot of gorgeous clothes (worn by Adele) and a whole hell of a lot of beautiful cinematography.

I won't go in to too much detail about Bagger's philosophy: You come in to this world with certain gifts and regardless of how you use them (or don't use them), you leave this world with the same gifts. Sometimes you feel that you lose the ability to use these gifts, or they slip away from you as life beats you down, but they are still there, waiting for you to pick up your club and focus and kick the shit out of the ball - or, when the time comes, softly tap it into the hole.

"Bagger, you are one hell of a caddy." Junuh tells him after he gets cocky and drives the ball straight in to the woods. Junuh finds the ball first and nearly picks it up (we never know if his intention is to cheat or quit - horrible, even so much as tragic, either way). Doubt and fear and flashbacks assail him, and breathing heavy and sweating, Junuh struggles with a battle we have all faced. What do I do now? It is just too hard, easier to give up. Now that I've got myself here, how the hell do I get out of the rough? A good shot is impossible. Easier to quit. Easier to cheat. How do I get out of the woods? How do I get back on the fairway?

What do I do now?

Bagger, using his soft words and soft eyes and sweet smile - guides old Junuh out of the darkness and into the light.

Pardon the cliche, it just fits.

Of course, oftentimes, Bagger would softly say the same words that came out of Adele's mouth when she was trying to snap Junuh out of it. And Junuh would widen his eyes in surprise that this wisdom, accepted from Bagger, would be something he'd heard before. But then again, no one really listened to women in those days.

Ahem.

As I mentioned before, this movie was shot beautifully. Other lovely surprises include the use of Jack Lemmon. He's the first person we see and he narrates the film. Lemmon was the perfect choice for this small but important role. Another lovely surprise was Charlize Theron, astonishingly gorgeous and believably plucky regardless of the fact that she is heartworn. She was beautiful. Finally, Will Smith, understated yet powerful...his Bagger Vance was just what Bagger Vance needed to be. Damon didn't do so badly either, and how can you fault that shiney white smile and a man that can wear pants that well?. His tush...his tush during a swing. Whoa.

I'm not saying that this is the perfect movie. Don't ask me about their accents, they sounded okay to me. There was the moment when Damon was smoking a decidedly Year 2000-looking cigarette, but in the grand scheme of the beauty of this movie, that didn't mean much.

Um.

Er.

Well, that's all I can think of now. The story, the photography, the misty beauty of the South, the high spirits, the sweet romance, the good looking actors, the history, the period, the great costumes, the subtle lesson, the great narration by Lemmon, and, well, I hate to say it, the golf. It all captured me and swept me away. I didn't want the movie to end, but I will say that when it did, and how it did, was so moving and lovely that my breath was taken away.

I'd follow Bagger Vance to eternity. Without question.

 

CineScene, 2000