The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 211 Days to go: 214
Movie #166: Ladyhawke
Ladyhawke was the first PG-13 movie I ever saw. I remember watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom in the theater with my hands over my eyes the year before, and I remember the huge controversy it created, prompting the need for a rating between PG and R, so it was a momentous occasion when PG-13 movies first came out, and it was equally momentous (at least for me) when I went to my first one. I might not have remembered my first PG-13 movie, though, if it hadn’t turned out to be such a beloved one. At the age of 10, Ladyhawke was one of my absolute favorite movies, and in the nearly thirty years since, my love for it hasn’t really diminished.
Ladyhawke is a magical, mystical tale of lovers torn apart, but always together. Taking place in the Middle Ages, it’s sort of an historical fantasy tale. Philippe Gaston (Matthew Broderick) is a thief known as “The Mouse” for his ability to evade capture by twisting, squeezing and wiggling his way out of even the smallest spaces. As the film starts, he is escaping from the dungeons of Aquila and becomes a fugitive, with the guards hot on his trail. He is saved, however, by Etienne Navarre (Rutger Hauer), the former captain of the guard who was banished from Aquila and has a grudge to get back to kill the Bishop (John Wood). Navarre takes Philippe in his custody and care, intent on having Philippe get him back into the city to complete his quest. During the nights, Philippe encounters both a beautiful woman named Isabeau (Michelle Pfeiffer) and a large black wolf, and eventually he discovers that Isabeau is Navarre’s hawk by day, and Navarre is the black wolf by night. With the help of an old drunk monk named Imperius (Leo McKern), they all travel back toward Aquila to get revenge against the Bishop for damning them to these half-lives, and perhaps, if Imperius is right, break the curse.
I’ve been subjected to my fair share of mocking thanks to this movie, in my numerous and undaunted attempts to share it with the world. I remember, for instance, one friend of mine mercilessly taking apart the heavily ’80s-synthesizer score, and, sure, point taken. I still find it rousing and effective. Others scoff at the traveling accents or the fuzzy mythology of this curse. I do not care. This movie rocks.
As far as I was concerned, there had never been a more luminous beauty than Michelle Pfeiffer as Isabeau. There had never been a wittier wiseacre or endearing liar than Philippe Gaston. There had never been a more gorgeous and devastating scene than when Navarre and Isabeau are lying together in the snow as the sun rises and they almost touch as humans, but not quite. There had never been more anguish in anyone’s howling cry than in Navarre’s, both as man and wolf. There had never been more thrilling or violent ends to a movie’s villains than befalls the Bishop and Marquet (Ken Hutchison) and Cezar (Alfred Molina). It was just the most riveting, the most interesting, the most thrilling and satisfying film.
And to be perfectly honest, it still hits all those emotional notes for me. I still love Philippe. I still warm to Imperius. My heart still swells and breaks and swells again for Isabeau and Navarre. I still fear and cringe at the Bishop and Cezar. And if I ever were to witness a solar eclipse, no force on earth could stop me from gruffly, passionately whispering to the heavens, “A night without a day. A day without a night.” I swear it.
Viable Option 