The box office and critical failure of “A Life Less Ordinary” did not wipe out the success of Danny Boyle's first two theatrical features. His working relationship with screenwriter John Hodge, producer Andrew MacDonald, and editor Masahiro Hirakubo would all continue. This is what allowed Boyle and MacDonald to pick up the rights to a novel from an up-and-coming novelist named Alex Garland. They acquired the rights to his book “The Beach” before it went into wide publication and became a hit. However, perhaps the mistakes made with “A Life Less Ordinary” suggested that changes did indeed need to be made. By this point, Hollywood had caught up with Boyle's prior successes and came calling. 20th Century Fox promised to bankroll “The Beach” if Boyle agreed to have Leonardo DiCaprio star. Boyle took that deal, alienating his first choice and favorite leading man Ewan McGregor, leading to a schism between the two that wouldn't heal for years.
Way back in the year 2000, however, I didn't know any of that shit. At the time, I had no idea who Danny Boyle was and, once I became a budding movie nerd, was surprised to discover the guy who made “Trainspotting” also made “The Beach.” Because this was the first Leonardo DiCaprio movie to come out following the unstoppable cultural juggernaut that was “Titanic.” Unsurprisingly, the studio would go all in on this, largely selling “The Beach” based on DiCaprio's newfound star power and status as a teenage heart throb. As a twelve year old boy in 2000, it was my duty to think Leo was nothing but a vapid pretty boy, a grossly overrated newcomer with no talent beyond his youthful good looks. Jealousy was no doubt a factor in this common reaction at the time, as well as a general macho adolescent dismissal of anything deemed too much for “girls.” History has vindicated Leo fans, of course, DiCaprio having long ago proven his real movie star chops and becoming a lasting screen presence. History has not been as kind to “The Beach,” though it has slowly been reappraised as better than the disappointing reputation it received at the start of the new millennium.
Richard is a young American who has come to Thailand in search of the same thing many people head to Thailand for: Sun, sex, and sensation outside his previously cloistered existence. However, he soon finds the thrills of Bangkok disappointingly pedestrian. What does catch his attention is Francoise, the pretty French girl in the hotel room with her boyfriend next door. He also notices an eccentric Scotsman calling himself Daffy. The man presents Richard with a local legend, of an untouched beach hidden from civilization, and gives him a map supposedly leading to this location. Afterwards, Daffy kills himself. Teaming up with the French couple, Richard sets out to find this island paradise. They do uncover a perfect, secluded piece of beach front property... But they aren't alone. Armed drug dealers control one half of the island while the other half belongs to a bohemian community. They are a self-sufficient village led by a woman named Sal that lives in peace with the jungle. Richard and his friends are the first new arrivals they've had in a long time and they are, somewhat reluctantly, let into the group. However, anything this pristine is doomed to be corrupted eventually.
Early on and multiple times throughout, the secluded island setting of “The Beach” is compared to the Garden of Eden. At first, it seems to be a similarly idyllic location. The commune lives in seeming peace and harmony with each other and the natural world. They have no need for the pleasures and so-called conveniences of the outside world. They live off the land and want to keep it that way. The only way this paradise can survive is because it's a secret. Richard's intrusion seems destined to lead to the beach's downfall. He brings the corruption of the modern world into this world lost to time. Considering the villagers give him and Sal a long list of modern amenities to bring back to the island from the mainland, the suggestion is that these influences are already well at work here. The eventual exile from paradise deliberately references the Eden story, furthering the idea that “The Beach” is a story about the inevitability of a fall from innocence. The child-like frolicking in the consequences-free Garden will always come before a stumble towards adulthood and finding your place in the wider world.
It seems that way but I don't think think that's what “The Beach” is really about. In Garland's novel, the main character is English. Re-casting the character as an American might have been a compromise with the studio but it adds a whole other, far more interesting layer to the material. Richard doesn't find anything all that impressive in Thailand. He finds a congested city full of people watching TV. Specially American television shows, like “The Simpsons.” The American experiment has already spread to, and corrupted, this corner of the globe. The beach represents a place free of the vile influence of capitalism and American exceptionalism. At least until Richard bumbles into it, acting like he deserves access to this natural paradise as much as anybody else. A moral about the creeping hand of Imperialism would certainly still make sense with a British main character. However, making the hero American and aligning the downfall of the peaceful community with the vulgarian excess of the American lifestyle makes for a far more pointed message.
It is easy to figure out why “The Beach” would appeal to Danny Boyle and John Hodge. This is, in many ways, a similar story to “Trainspotting.” The film doesn't feature quite as much voice over as that motion picture but Richard does have a running inner monologue, mirroring the perspective of Garland's book. The similarities don't end there. Like Mark Renton, Richard is an overgrown boy who is entirely selfish in his motivations. He only ever speaks in terms of what this world can offer him. He seeks out the island because he wants to experience these pleasures. He naturally assumes he belongs in this community. When an another islander gets injured by a shark and slowly develops a lingering sickness, Richard's narration describes the dying man as an annoyance to everyone here. Notably, that does not extend to the kinder villagers who stay with the sick man and take care of him. Around the same time, Richard refers to the beach as nothing more than another vacation resort. He sees this world as a buffet made for his benefit, never considering that Sal and the others are very serious about this way of life.
Much like another immature man-child from a Boyle film, Alex in “Shallow Grave,” he repeatedly refers to what happens here as a “game.” He seems to think everyone is playing this “game” when it's blatantly obvious that he's the only person making that comparison. This is directly linked with the video games – specifically “Rampage,” a game about monsters destroying stuff – he's seen playing throughout, a different form of mindless entertainment subbing in for the game shows Boyle previously used as a symbol of vapid, populist drivel. It's noted that holding a controller is what his hands are more accustomed too than the hard labor of growing his own food. These people have lives, having created a carefully balanced equilibrium here. Richard – a name that can be shortened to Dick, it must be noted – throws that balance off with his mere presence. He doesn't see it that way. Though the ending seems to hint at this large adult boy growing into a more mature man, it's a lot easier to believe that this guy's days of being a jerk, butting his way into places where he doesn't belong and insisting it's his, are far from over.
In the many years since “The Beach,” Leonardo DiCaprio has played a number of entitled monsters that rampage through the world like unhindered ids. Honestly, compared to the vile greed and stupidity of Jordan Belfort, Calvin Candie, or Ernest Burkhart, Richard doesn't seem so bad. At least he has the excuse of being young. However, the role does show that DiCaprio, even this early into his superstar phase, was eager to play with his own image. As Richard, Leo shouts, swears, and panics in-between self-serious meditation that take place mostly within his own mind. Richard is an asshole, Leo plays him like an asshole, but the character certainly doesn't think he's an asshole. That's the power of a performance, making it a more meaningful indictment of this kind of self-aggrandizing entitlement. DiCaptrio was a long whiles off from being the grizzled screen presence he is now but he already understood that this was the mode that best served his abilities. (Notably, DiCaprio made this movie instead of the adaptation of “American Psycho” he was supposed to star in instead. For the first time, I honestly think he actually might have made a compelling Patrick Bateman.)
If you missed the obvious attitudes “The Beach” is criticizing, the film makes it more blatant as it goes along. After his selfish ways are exposed, Richard is temporarily exiled from the village and into a watch tower position. He quickly starts to become detached from reality, imagining himself in a video game or as a red bandana wearing, John Rambo-like figure. DiCaprio emerges from the shadows, a bit like Martin Sheen in “Apocalypse Now” too. In other words, he imagines himself as a world-weary, hyper-capable bad-ass. That's the case after he kills a shark, the boy quickly re-imagining the encounter as an act of bravery on his behalf and not happenstance. When he sees a dead body in the first act, he dismisses it as less real than what he's seen in the movie. However, Richard's bravado lasts only as long as he doesn't come face-to-face with someone actually violently dying. At that point, the illusion of action hero stardom are dashed and he's reduced to a blubbering boy once again. Almost as if he day-dreams about a life he actually has zero preparation or understanding off, further connecting with the film's themes of western entitlement.
Naturally, Richard also believes himself entitled to sex and romance. In Garland's book, Richard's attraction to Francoise remains totally one-sided. It's a boyhood crush, another sign of his arrested adolescence. At the insistence of studio execs, probably hopeful to appeal to those who flocked to “Titanic” because of its love story, a romantic subplot was inserted into the film. At least this alteration similarly feeds into the story's themes. When Sal makes herself sexually available to Richard, he naturally goes right for it. He lies to Francoise on the island about the affair, another blatant example of what a cad this guy is. While it probably would've made more sense to keep the romance strictly to the imaginary category, it does give Guilaume Canet and Tilda Swinton – both excellent – a lot more to do. Swinton's ethereal appearance and commanding presence is well utilized as Sal while Canet's beauty and naivety makes her an ideal dream girl for the hero to fall in love with.
While the studio mandated romantic subplot at least fits into the film to some degree, the quasi-happy ending the money people similarly demanded is far less effective. One can only assume that a story like this is not going to end well for anyone. The heavily-armed marijuana farmers on the other half of the island clarify that they are, like most of the third world residents at the mercy of American imperialism, simple craftsman trying to take care of their families. They live here and all the white folks are interloper, all of them expelled from this Eden by the end. It might not surprised you to hear that Garland's source material had a far more downbeat conclusion. If Boyle's “The Beach” had ended five minutes before the credits, it certainly would've been logical. Instead, a hopeful final scene is tacked on. No, it doesn't fit the proceeding story nor match up with the thematic concerns.
While Boyle and his team where clearly ready and willing to work with the Hollywood execs on this one, this still feels much more like a picture form the director of “Trainspotting” and “Shallow Grave” than “A Life Less Ordinary.” As in his drug-fueled epic, Boyle allows for a number of elaborate fantasy sequences. This includes Leo being inserted into a Nintendo 64-style video game when imagining his adventure, another Vietnam War movie style daydream with notably bloodless violence, a talking shark, and a starry vision of the girl he's enamored of. This is paired with some hyperactive camera movements – a monkey point-of-view shot while running through the pot field being a good example – and some stylishly edited montages introducing the various inhabitants of the community. As you've come to expect by now, “The Beach” also has a catchy soundtrack full of carefully chosen Britpop and electronic needle drops. “The Beach” also features a very pretty score from Angelo Badalamenti, whose sweeping and dream-like main theme recalls the “Twin Peaks” intro a little bit.
Way back in the year 2000, however, I didn't know any of that shit. At the time, I had no idea who Danny Boyle was and, once I became a budding movie nerd, was surprised to discover the guy who made “Trainspotting” also made “The Beach.” Because this was the first Leonardo DiCaprio movie to come out following the unstoppable cultural juggernaut that was “Titanic.” Unsurprisingly, the studio would go all in on this, largely selling “The Beach” based on DiCaprio's newfound star power and status as a teenage heart throb. As a twelve year old boy in 2000, it was my duty to think Leo was nothing but a vapid pretty boy, a grossly overrated newcomer with no talent beyond his youthful good looks. Jealousy was no doubt a factor in this common reaction at the time, as well as a general macho adolescent dismissal of anything deemed too much for “girls.” History has vindicated Leo fans, of course, DiCaprio having long ago proven his real movie star chops and becoming a lasting screen presence. History has not been as kind to “The Beach,” though it has slowly been reappraised as better than the disappointing reputation it received at the start of the new millennium.
Richard is a young American who has come to Thailand in search of the same thing many people head to Thailand for: Sun, sex, and sensation outside his previously cloistered existence. However, he soon finds the thrills of Bangkok disappointingly pedestrian. What does catch his attention is Francoise, the pretty French girl in the hotel room with her boyfriend next door. He also notices an eccentric Scotsman calling himself Daffy. The man presents Richard with a local legend, of an untouched beach hidden from civilization, and gives him a map supposedly leading to this location. Afterwards, Daffy kills himself. Teaming up with the French couple, Richard sets out to find this island paradise. They do uncover a perfect, secluded piece of beach front property... But they aren't alone. Armed drug dealers control one half of the island while the other half belongs to a bohemian community. They are a self-sufficient village led by a woman named Sal that lives in peace with the jungle. Richard and his friends are the first new arrivals they've had in a long time and they are, somewhat reluctantly, let into the group. However, anything this pristine is doomed to be corrupted eventually.
It seems that way but I don't think think that's what “The Beach” is really about. In Garland's novel, the main character is English. Re-casting the character as an American might have been a compromise with the studio but it adds a whole other, far more interesting layer to the material. Richard doesn't find anything all that impressive in Thailand. He finds a congested city full of people watching TV. Specially American television shows, like “The Simpsons.” The American experiment has already spread to, and corrupted, this corner of the globe. The beach represents a place free of the vile influence of capitalism and American exceptionalism. At least until Richard bumbles into it, acting like he deserves access to this natural paradise as much as anybody else. A moral about the creeping hand of Imperialism would certainly still make sense with a British main character. However, making the hero American and aligning the downfall of the peaceful community with the vulgarian excess of the American lifestyle makes for a far more pointed message.
It is easy to figure out why “The Beach” would appeal to Danny Boyle and John Hodge. This is, in many ways, a similar story to “Trainspotting.” The film doesn't feature quite as much voice over as that motion picture but Richard does have a running inner monologue, mirroring the perspective of Garland's book. The similarities don't end there. Like Mark Renton, Richard is an overgrown boy who is entirely selfish in his motivations. He only ever speaks in terms of what this world can offer him. He seeks out the island because he wants to experience these pleasures. He naturally assumes he belongs in this community. When an another islander gets injured by a shark and slowly develops a lingering sickness, Richard's narration describes the dying man as an annoyance to everyone here. Notably, that does not extend to the kinder villagers who stay with the sick man and take care of him. Around the same time, Richard refers to the beach as nothing more than another vacation resort. He sees this world as a buffet made for his benefit, never considering that Sal and the others are very serious about this way of life.
In the many years since “The Beach,” Leonardo DiCaprio has played a number of entitled monsters that rampage through the world like unhindered ids. Honestly, compared to the vile greed and stupidity of Jordan Belfort, Calvin Candie, or Ernest Burkhart, Richard doesn't seem so bad. At least he has the excuse of being young. However, the role does show that DiCaprio, even this early into his superstar phase, was eager to play with his own image. As Richard, Leo shouts, swears, and panics in-between self-serious meditation that take place mostly within his own mind. Richard is an asshole, Leo plays him like an asshole, but the character certainly doesn't think he's an asshole. That's the power of a performance, making it a more meaningful indictment of this kind of self-aggrandizing entitlement. DiCaptrio was a long whiles off from being the grizzled screen presence he is now but he already understood that this was the mode that best served his abilities. (Notably, DiCaprio made this movie instead of the adaptation of “American Psycho” he was supposed to star in instead. For the first time, I honestly think he actually might have made a compelling Patrick Bateman.)
If you missed the obvious attitudes “The Beach” is criticizing, the film makes it more blatant as it goes along. After his selfish ways are exposed, Richard is temporarily exiled from the village and into a watch tower position. He quickly starts to become detached from reality, imagining himself in a video game or as a red bandana wearing, John Rambo-like figure. DiCaprio emerges from the shadows, a bit like Martin Sheen in “Apocalypse Now” too. In other words, he imagines himself as a world-weary, hyper-capable bad-ass. That's the case after he kills a shark, the boy quickly re-imagining the encounter as an act of bravery on his behalf and not happenstance. When he sees a dead body in the first act, he dismisses it as less real than what he's seen in the movie. However, Richard's bravado lasts only as long as he doesn't come face-to-face with someone actually violently dying. At that point, the illusion of action hero stardom are dashed and he's reduced to a blubbering boy once again. Almost as if he day-dreams about a life he actually has zero preparation or understanding off, further connecting with the film's themes of western entitlement.
While the studio mandated romantic subplot at least fits into the film to some degree, the quasi-happy ending the money people similarly demanded is far less effective. One can only assume that a story like this is not going to end well for anyone. The heavily-armed marijuana farmers on the other half of the island clarify that they are, like most of the third world residents at the mercy of American imperialism, simple craftsman trying to take care of their families. They live here and all the white folks are interloper, all of them expelled from this Eden by the end. It might not surprised you to hear that Garland's source material had a far more downbeat conclusion. If Boyle's “The Beach” had ended five minutes before the credits, it certainly would've been logical. Instead, a hopeful final scene is tacked on. No, it doesn't fit the proceeding story nor match up with the thematic concerns.
While Boyle and his team where clearly ready and willing to work with the Hollywood execs on this one, this still feels much more like a picture form the director of “Trainspotting” and “Shallow Grave” than “A Life Less Ordinary.” As in his drug-fueled epic, Boyle allows for a number of elaborate fantasy sequences. This includes Leo being inserted into a Nintendo 64-style video game when imagining his adventure, another Vietnam War movie style daydream with notably bloodless violence, a talking shark, and a starry vision of the girl he's enamored of. This is paired with some hyperactive camera movements – a monkey point-of-view shot while running through the pot field being a good example – and some stylishly edited montages introducing the various inhabitants of the community. As you've come to expect by now, “The Beach” also has a catchy soundtrack full of carefully chosen Britpop and electronic needle drops. “The Beach” also features a very pretty score from Angelo Badalamenti, whose sweeping and dream-like main theme recalls the “Twin Peaks” intro a little bit.
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