You have to hand it to Mel Gibson. Sure, the man is the Grand Poohbah of crazy, along with every other euphemism for ‘nuts’ that they use in the chorus to Pink Floyd’s “The Trial,” but while his convictions have led him to make some profane declarations of late, you cannot deny that the man has onions. Is he really following his Jesus snuff film “The Passion of the Christ” with a tale about the fall of the Mayan empire, spoken entirely in Mayan? And he’s paying for it himself? Do you need a wheelbarrow for those stones you’re carrying around, Detective Riggs?
But balls and money will only get you so far. There is no question that Gibson is a competent filmmaker – and he has the Oscar to prove it – but if anyone in Hollywood could use some guidance, it is surely Gibson, and “Apocalypto” suffers from not having that helping hand that he desperately needs. It’s too long, unnecessarily graphic, and surprisingly plot-free for a two hour-plus movie.