The Thing About Cult Classics

It’s my last year at Virginia Tech, and for some reason, it has taken me almost two and a half years to take advantage of the incredible, extensive physical film collection our library provides. A few weeks ago as I was picking through the shelves, I stumbled upon a movie that I’d recently seen several advertisements for, but had never looked into. On a few occasions, I’d seen a screengrab from the film. It always depicted the same thing: a man dressed as some sort of pirate or conquistador with his hand raised and covered in blood. He has an indistinguishable look on his face—maybe grief or thoughtfulness, maybe determination. It’s a striking image. Now I know the reason I was seeing this picture so frequently was because the film distributor and streamer Mubi restored the film for their platform in September, but at the time, it was as if this man and his bloodied hand were haunting me. I had to watch this movie, I was sure. A feeling that was immediately validated by a librarian telling me that it was one of the best films ever made. So, that night, I finally watch it—Tarsem Singh’s The Fall.

The film follows two storylines. In the “real” world, or 1920’s Los Angeles, we follow two hospital patients. Alexandria (Catinca Untaru) is a young Romanian girl healing from a broken arm. She causes a bit of trouble for its employees, but she’s generally adored by the community. Roy Walker (Lee Pace) is a Hollywood stuntman who was injured while performing a stunt for a film. Now bedridden, Roy relies on Alexandria to bring him pain medication that the doctors will not supply themselves. In return, he tells Alexandria the story of five men who team together to enact their revenge on an evil ruler who has slighted them all in some way. As we watch these two stories evolve, Roy and Alexandria begin to develop a friendship that brings them a sense of healing the hospital cannot provide.

With that synopsis in mind, I’m sure any fans of the 1987 cult classic film The Princess Bride have noticed a few similarities. While I do think it’s important to acknowledge their similarities, I’d like to avoid comparing them in terms of quality. Like its predecessor, The Fall is a story within a story, it’s an action-adventure film, it’s an ensemble cast, at many times, it’s a comedic film. Simultaneously, these films have completely different aims, and they both succeed in accomplishing them. So while I do enjoy The Princess Bride and acknowledge the influence it likely had on Singh’s film, I believe that The Fall stands brilliantly on its own and that it accomplishes a lot that its predecessor does not. The Fall is one of the most gorgeous movies I’ve ever seen. Each shot is immaculate, and each color so deliberately chosen. It’s impossible not to be reminded of 20th-century Technicolor films while watching. The film is fun to watch, sure, but it also has an unbelievable emotional thread throughout the “real” and “fantastical” storylines. As we spend less and less time in Roy’s story and more time with Roy, we see that The Fall is not simply a movie about a man telling a girl a story, but a movie about a man learning to find a reason to live again and love again after convincing himself that his life was not one worth continuing. And it took 18 years for people to finally acknowledge it.

In an interview with Letterboxd in September, Tarsem Singh says, “I spent all my money on this movie, went almost bankrupt, and then when nobody wanted it, even for free, I worked for two years to get it out in a few cinemas, so some people would see it and remember it.” This quote, of course, does not acknowledge the fact that the film took four years to film and was shot in 24 countries, nor that it cost 30 million dollars to make and didn’t even break four million in the box office. Finding and loving a cult classic film can feel so rewarding. Of all the people who could’ve stumbled upon this movie after years and years of being ignored and neglected, you were the one who found it. You were the one who had the vision to appreciate it, to love it the way it should have been all along. That said, it’s impossible to ignore that they exist because they were made in an industry that relies on and reacts to immediate success so immensely. Filmmaking is a gamble, and oftentimes, it’s a gamble that is lost. I was three years old when The Fall was released, and it isn’t until now, at 20, that this incredible film is getting the attention it deserves. How many other adventure-fantasy films then fell behind as The Princess Bride entered the limelight? How many films in general? If it had opened in more theaters, would my parents have seen it? Would they have shown it to me? Knowing what I do about how frequently great films are overlooked, discounted, or disregarded, I can’t help but wonder how much amazing cinema has been released this year that I won’t hear of until I’m 40. There’s a satisfaction that comes from the hunt, a satisfaction I’ve sought out and enjoyed myself. At the same time, I resent the industry’s ability to constrain the films we see. In a time when we have more access to movies than ever, it’s disheartening to know that so many still go unnoticed.