Ever since Og the caveman decided to see how fast he could run from his cave out to the field and back again (which was important back then to avoid ending up as supper for some saber-toothed tiger), people have thrived on pushing themselves to accomplish any number of specific goals. Sometimes it's to beat others, but even then it's all about that innate, individual need to see how far one can go to succeed.
Since all of that involves a strategy, determination, mental and/or physical endurance and the ability to deal with challenges, complications and other setbacks, such tales of setting and then striving to meet goals have long been fodder for movies, of both the fictitious and "based on a true story" varieties. Some have been good, some have been bad and the rest fall into the humdrum state of mediocrity. Yet, a few manage to climb out of that latter condition by possessing one or more qualities that give them just enough boost to be noticeable.
"The World's Fastest Indian" is one such flick. It's based on the real life story of Southlander Burt Munro who, at the age of 68, set the world speed record for a particular style of motorcycle -- an Indian Scout (which looks like a racing motorcycle where the rider's body is extended out horizontally toward the front of the bike) -- despite the machine being nearly half a century old. Long before the term "crotch rocket" came into parlance, Munro was doing nearly 200 mph on what was likely considered a relic even back then.
It's an intriguing tale and one that's well-suited for the movies. After all, not only does the protagonist have to make his way from New Zealand to Utah and overcome the various obstacles along the way, he was also old enough to belong to AARP (back in a day when "old people" weren't widely known to still be active), just like his bike that most people would have junked years if not decades earlier.
Having previously filmed the documentary "Offerings to the God of Speed" (about Munro and his accomplishments) back in 1971, writer/director Roger Donaldson is obviously enamored with the man and his legendary status. And he couldn't have asked for anyone better than Anthony Hopkins to play the part in what most -- including yours truly -- believe is one of the film's saving graces.
Disappearing into his character much like he did with Hannibal Lecter many moons ago (although obviously with vastly different results), Hopkins becomes Munro, at least to these eyes and ears not familiar with the factual story. Whether or not the real man was as charmingly eccentric and plucky as portrayed here isn't the point (except to those who knew him), but that very characteristic goes a long way in making us care about him and his goal.
As does the film's overall demeanor and -- I hate to use the adjective again so soon, but it's accurate -- utter charm. Maybe it was the thought and/or sight of such an older character participating in a rather unorthodox pursuit or something about the way Donaldson shot the film, but I enjoyed it enough to tolerate most of its problems.
And the biggest one among them is its unavoidable, episodic nature. By its very structure, it's a road trip movie (in more than one way) as Hopkins' character travels halfway around the world, and meets and otherwise interacts with a number of characters, some of which assist him in various fashions. Accordingly, it also has somewhat of a "Forrest Gump" feel to it, minus the historical moments and figures, but with the same sort of down-under, fish out of water material that made "Crocodile Dundee" so appealing.
But by the time the third or fourth such person comes and goes -- including the likes of Paul Rodriguez, Diane Ladd, Saginaw Grant and others -- you realize they're all just stepping stones who easily could have been replaced and/or jettisoned (thus shortening the film that's 20 to 30 minutes too long at two-plus hours) with no ill-effect.
A few performers -- including Aaron Murphy as a local boy who's always hanging out with Burt, Chris Williams as a compassionate, transvestite motel clerk and Jim Lawford as a helpful, fellow racer -- get slightly meatier parts. That allows for some decent interaction with Hopkins' character, thus giving the film some heart to go along with its charm.
The fact that all of them are friendly and/or helpful -- even a menacing biker gang back in New Zealand inexplicably turns nice -- gives the film something of an idealistic fantasy aura. It's hard to say if the real man lucked out and really ran into such people, if that's just the way he remembered things, or if that's all made up on the part of the filmmakers.
In the end, it doesn't really matter as the film's all about Munro getting to the Bonneville Salt Flats to see what his beloved, forty-year-old bike can really do. They may say that it's not the destination but rather the trip getting there that's important, but in this case, the destination is worth waiting for. Although only competing against himself, physics and lady luck, the scenes featuring him trying to hit 200 mph and thus break the speed record for his style of bike are truly gripping.
While the same can't be said about the rest of the picture -- that's literally and figuratively much slower in comparison -- Hopkins and Donaldson manage to work magic with the main character and his quest, thus making us forgive some of the film's flaws. Not perfectly, but surprisingly engaging and, yes, charming, "The World's Fastest Indian" rates as a 6 out of 10.
![[Logo]](/images/screenit_logo2.jpg){kind=logo}
