"When an old and distinguished person speaks to you, listen to him carefully and with respect – but do not believe him. Never put your trust in anything but your own intellect. Your elder, no matter whether he has gray hair or lost his hair, no matter whether he is a Nobel Laureate, may be wrong... So you must always be skeptical – always think for yourself." --Linus Pauling
The movie is based on parts of two novels from a twenty book series written by Patrick O'Brian. The books are set during the Napoleonic War and follow the fortunes and failures of two men: Captain Jack Aubrey of His Majesty's Royal Navy and his ship's surgeon Stephen Maturin.
Jack, nicknamed "Lucky Jack" by his men, is a master of his chosen profession. He's a tactical genius at sea, and knows how to make one of the 'big ships' (the most complicated technology of the time) do anything he wants it to. On land is a different story; with firm ground beneath his feet and society all round him, Jack inevitably becomes well, a bit of a dork. He also plays a fair violin.
Ship's surgeon Stephen Maturin is cut from a different cloth: He's Irish and Catalan, a naturalist fluent in many languages and sciences, and a spy for His Majesty's Government. In his own way, Stephen is as deadly as Jack, capable of brilliant manipulations and schemes worthy of a Macchiavelli. He's also a dab hand at the cello.
The two, while being opposites, are also the very best of friends.
The movie does something difficult and manages to capture the feel of O'Brian's world and the people who populate it well. It is the first movie I think I've ever seen that seems aimed at the "highest common denominator."
O'Brian did not merely write sea stories by the way. He books seemed to want to describe the whole of society at the time. Mary Renault called them "the finest historical novels ever written." (Something she herself is accused of having done.) Walter Cronkite called the books "crack cocaine for intellectuals."
David Mamet wrote a great essay about O'Brian for the New York Times.
The books, and the movie are well worth your time.
It could be argued that there's not much point in the exercise but I believe in being true to one's enthusiasms. Besides that, doesn't who and what we love serve to define us in some way as human beings? No? Bah. Your lackluster taste in literature and film belies your station and has marked you as surely as favors from the Donner Party.
"Opinions are like assholes. We all have 'em." Yes, so I've been told. Yet my ass has been greatly admired in its time. My opinions as well. May we stake the same claim for yours?
I thought not.
But relax, child. Breathe easy. Do not fear my arrogance too much. I am here and all will be made well. When we are finished, we may not be simpatico on all things (that can be so boring), but let us at least agree on this:
1. Everything means something, whether we are aware of it or not.
2. Your right to hold an opinion is only so strong as it is an informed opinion. The market on uninformed opinions fell out long ago and has never recovered value.
3. The woman of my dreams, if she is to be of any quality, must have a love for the music of Leonard Cohen and something approaching a mild detest for one of the following: a) The Grateful Dead b) The Eagles c) Forrest Gump d) COPS and e) So-called "reality shows." This is a dealbreaker.