The Edge: Younger Man, Envying

Let's try to see this from the Younger Man's point of view, shall we?

[For those who just tuned in, we’re discussing The Edge, starring Anthony Hopkins as Charles Morse, a wealthy older man, and Alec Baldwin as a bitter, young photographer named Bob, who’s having an affair with the Hopkins character’s model-wife. The three, plus photo-shoot entourage, have trekked into the Alaskan wilderness aboard Morse’s private plane. It is a working vacation for the photo people; it is a distinctly uncomfortable moment, for the older man.]

Y.M. (Younger Man) relishes his photo-shoot moments, the stated purpose of their trip to the Alaskan inn, for then he has the Faithless Trophy Wife all to himself, sort of. Under normal circumstances, Morse would not be along; he's generally off being a financier of some kind, and they—or she (actually, it's never quite clear who thought this would be a good idea)—decided it would be good for the billionaire to take a break from running the world, and come with.

Once at the inn, Y.M. can be found bristling and envying, or else lamenting his lot as talented and underpaid. He pontificates, making himself an object of mirth to everyone, including his insignificant beloved. Everyone laughs at Y.M.—everyone, that is, except Mr. Billionaire, who seems not to get the joke. This does not help Y.M.’s disposition. Y.M. is developing quite a head of steam.

Y.M.’s goal seems to be to belittle, to embarrass, to drive a wedge—in short, he's an everyjackass. His motives regarding the trophy wife are transparent: there’s no love, there. Y.M. just wants to be a billionaire, and the closest he can get is to pick off the young wife of one.

I wonder, does this happen a lot, in real life?

<jk>

I spent many viewings of this film wondering who else I’d cast as Bob. Mel Gibson, perhaps. Now that Baldwin turns out to be a jerk in real life, too, I guess he’ll do.

So, here's the much-older husband, doddering around in his greatcoat, surrounded by feather-bundled youngsters. He smiles beatifically; he reads a book about survival in the wilderness, about bear traps and building fires, fishing in streams—all the things they end up needing to know how to do, later. Mister Bill(ionaire) is a sympathetic character, and I can’t help wondering if David Mamet drew him that way to begin with; I think he did not.

Y.M. wants it all: the plane, the wife, the respect, and the leisure time to stuff his head full of wilderness trivia. Whatever it is, he wants it. And he wants it bad enough to kill, for it. At first, anyway.

The Edge fooled a lot of people into dismissing it as a Jack London-like tale, but it isn’t. It’s a classic story about envy. The characters are sketchy, as are London’s—but so sketchy are they, that Hopkins stands in relief. And, up there on that pinnacle, he shines.

Trink is engrossed in this story again. It takes so little…!