When I was a kid, my parents made a habit of renting two movies whenever they visited the local video store: one for my sister and me, and one for them. The first movie usually ended up being something like The Goonies. My folks would patiently watch the movie with us, and when it finished, they ushered us off to bed so that they could watch their movie without interruption. No, their movie wasn’t porn (wouldn’t that have been interesting). It was usually something R-rated, or maybe they just wanted their privacy.

As an adult I’ve now seen just about every movie that they watched without me, and many that my parents wouldn’t be able to stomach if they tried. (Ten years ago I made them watch Pulp Fiction with me; they were so profoundly uncomfortable that I had mercy and turned off the television before the rape scene made things worse.)

But for some reason, I clearly remember my parents watching a movie called The Mosquito Coast, and I remember desperately wanting to watch it with them. I didn’t know anything about the movie except that it starred Harrison Ford; what I knew of Ford — Star Wars, Indiana Jones — was enough to raise my interest. I was sent to bed anyway, and in my little brain, The Mosquito Coast became the brass ring. I didn’t see it for years, and when I finally watched it, I forgot all about my parents and their stupid rules.

There are two Harrison Fords. There’s the commercial Ford — the guy who rules the screen every couple of years in a fresh new blockbuster (The Fugitive, Air Force One, the recent Firewall) — and there’s the thinking man’s Ford, who occasionally surfaces in thoughtful, serious movies (Witness, Presumed Innocent, Regarding Henry). The latter, which has always seemed a little closer to Ford’s heart, is on life support, if not dead already. But The Mosquito Coast is almost certainly Ford’s most passionate performance. The Harrison Ford in this movie hasn’t been seen since, which is a shame, because he’s at the top of his game.

The movie is based on a novel by Paul Theroux, and, in short, tells the story of Allie Fox, a father and husband who has had enough of America — enough of the consumer culture, enough of schedules and deadlines, enough of politics and lies– and packs up his family to get them the hell out.

“Look around you. How did America get this way? Land of promise. Land of opportunity. Give us the wretched refuse of your teeming shores. Have a Coke! Watch TV. Go on welfare — get free money. Turn to crime! Crime pays in this country. Why do they put up with it? Why do they keep coming? Look around you, Charlie. This place is a toilet.”

Through the course of the movie, the most interesting dynamic is the one played out between Allie and his family, particularly his oldest son. Charlie (River Phoenix, in one of his most complicated roles) practically worships his father — and on some level, you can’t help but wonder, must be afraid of him — but as he watches Allie slowly transform from an adventurer into what can only be described as a crazed egomaniac, that respect unravels, and fast. Charlie’s our narrator, and serves as a sort of measuring stick for his father’s behavior.

“My father was an inventor, a genius with anything mechanical. Nine patents, six pending. He dropped out of Harvard — to get an education, he said. I grew up with the belief that the world belonged to him, and that everything he said was true.”

What Allie Fox does next redefines the concept of ‘off the grid’.

He takes the wife and four kids and strikes out for a region of Nicaragua called the Mosquito Coast. The jungle is thick. The people are uneducated. Best of all, it’s remote as hell. In a late-night deal, Allie buys the deed to a town called Geronimo, and charters a ride upriver. Geronimo isn’t quite what they expected — it’s a small cluster of huts surrounded by jungle, occupied by a handful of poor natives. His excitement falters for only a moment, and then he begins to rebuild the village into what he’s “always dreamed of”: a fresh start. And he does — much hard work later, the village is a community. Allie declares himself mayor:

“I’m not here to boss you around. I’m here to work for you. And if I’m not working hard enough, you just tell me, and I’ll work harder. You just come up and say, ‘Mister, you gotta do a whole lot better than that’, and I will. What do you want to do first? Where do you want to begin? You tell me. Fish farm? Chicken run? Bridge? What? You tell me.”

He shows them how to farm, and builds an elaborate irrigation system for the crops. He whips up a contraption for washing clothes, powered by a rusted-out bicycle. He builds a Swiss Family Robinson-eque network of platorms, sidewalks and ladders. Using one of his inventions — a machine that flash-freezes water — he builds an enormous air-conditioning unit that serves every home with cool air. And all the while he’s convinced that this life is the best one for his family.

“No need to worry about these kids’ education, Mother! This is the education they need. This is the kind of education every American should’ve gotten.”

Of course, all cannot remain blissful and exciting forever, and as Allie Fox’s homemade utopia is threatened by a persistent and charismatic Christian missionary, and trampled by unwanted, heavily armed visitors, he begins to come apart at the seams, and the movie switches gears, or perhaps reveals what it has been about all along: a man on an idealistic power trip, spiraling dramatically into madness — and taking his family along for the ride.

Sunday, June 4, 2006   

1. Pierce wrote:
   June 5th, 2006 at 3:03 am

   This film had a profound effect on me when I watched it with my parents years ago. I was maybe 9. A lot of it stayed with me through the years. It seemed very sinister to me at the time. Probably because of the huge isolation of the characters and the idea that your family wont necessarily always be able to keep you safe.

   It was strange to read the book last year, with so much of the movie lodged in my memory. I must rewatch it sometime.

2. Jg wrote:
   June 5th, 2006 at 9:06 am

   ‘Sinister’ is a good word to describe it; aspects of it certainly are. It’s also very unsettling — particularly when you imagine it from a child’s perspective. The idea that the person you trust most in your life might not have your well-being at the top of their agenda is profoundly discomforting.

   I picked up the novel at a used bookstore several years ago but must have misplaced it, because I never did get to read it. Are the two very different?

3. Suebob wrote:
   June 5th, 2006 at 9:33 am

   I haven’t seen the movie, but the book is chilling. I have seen too many families where, as in this case, one person’s craziness becomes the whole family’s burden.

4. Jg wrote:
   June 5th, 2006 at 9:39 am

   The ‘whole family’s burden’ — that’s a really good way to put it.

5. Pierce wrote:
   June 5th, 2006 at 11:05 am

   Emm… it’s so long since I’ve seen the film. The stories seem to run parrallel, insofar as I remember. The tone is very much the same, although the father seemed more unbalanced from the beginning. Although that could have been my older self seeing it where my younger self wouldn’t have.

6. Jg wrote:
   June 5th, 2006 at 11:09 am

   You know, now that I think about it, that’s one characteristic about the movie that’s really interesting. For the first hour or more, Allie Fox doesn’t really seem crazy; he seems passionately idealistic, and by comparison it’s his everyday world that seems dull and lifeless. You understand his passion because nobody outside of his family can match it. His commentary throughout the movie is vitriolic and not without merit. It’s not until he starts to lose his mind that you realize all along he’s been right on the brink.

7. Anonymous wrote:
   January 3rd, 2007 at 4:11 pm

   the book is much more detailed than the movie. The movie leaves out significant parts including the ending.

8. tatyana wrote:
   August 10th, 2008 at 3:08 am

   wow…awsoem book yeah. i think that everyon ein th e world must read it. so plz don’t fuuck me….rather fook mi.. and then i will foook yu!!

the blog and design portfolio of Jason Gurley. (Learn more.) This site has been around since 1998; me, since 1978. In 2005 I drove 3,000 miles to see a movie. 2009 is pretty aimless so far, but I'm sure I'll get around to something sooner or later.

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01. dreaming of falling
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