Something came unravelled when I brought Elle MacPherson's character into such sharp focus in the Faithless Trophy Wife post. I realized how shallow she was, and then I saw why she had to be. The film is not cleverly spare; it is willfully simple-minded. Or, is it? Let's say it is. Let’s say that, to the extent that Mamet draws these characters simply, consistently, he reveals less about the human condition than about himself, his prejudices. It's not that the world of men is like that; it's that Mamet wants it to be like that.
If we decide to question the premise, Hopkins' contribution to the film becomes all the more striking. In his portrayal of Morse and Morse's interactions with the other underdeveloped people, Hopkins treats Mamet's characters with more respect than Mamet does?! I'm breaking new ground, here. It is exhilerating. I guess that’s why we do these, Gess and I. I wish I could see the original screenplay from which this was taken. Suddenly, the ending makes sense to me, where it never has, before:
Charles Morse is finally rescued, and they clamor around him on the dock. The Faithless Trophy Wife stands apart, abashed, her mind a tangle of conflicting emotions. She watches as they unload Bob’s shrouded corpse from the ’copter. Morse is making his way through the throng. First, he passes the innkeeper. Morse turns, gives him a long look, and speaks in reprise: “Why is the rabbit unafraid?” he reminds him.
A look of understanding passes between the two men, and Jenkins grins a crooked, scarfaced grin. “Hmp! Because he’s smarter than the panther!”
Morse, the humble victor, arrives before his spoils. He presses her dead lover’s watch into her palm—a watch with an inscription that belies her faithlessness—in a gesture that makes clear his knowledge of the transgression. She looks down in surprise. Her face collapses.
Gently, now, having dealt this blow, Morse raises a grimy hand against a barrage of reporters’ questions. “We are all put to the test.” He stops. “…but it never comes in the form, or at the…point…we would prefer. Does it?”
“Mr. Morse,” another interjects, “The other men. Your friends.” It is a question.
“My friends,” Morse repeats, without inflection.
“What happened to them, sir?”
Silence.
“How did they die, sir?” prods a female reporter.
“They died,” says Morse, huskily, “saving my life.”
There’s a moment, like Rutger Hauer’s final moment in Bladerunner, when Hopkins blinks, falters. His eyes flicker heavenward. Now: Is Morse acknowledging the unfairness of it all? Or is Hopkins lamenting the paucity of material his fellow actors have been given, to work with?
It’s important for me to take issue with this simplicity, I think.
Ta-DAA!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Five Weeks
In ATL, we meet the main characters at a crucial moment in their life: five weeks before the end of the school year, the beginning of summer vacation, and the Skate Wars at their neighborhood hangout. (Other crucial things are happening with side characters, but they are not our concern.) For Rashad, his two high-school-senior friends, and their older buddy Teddy, it is five weeks before adulthood descends abruptly upon them. They will no longer have childhood to shelter them.
Only for Esquire, bound and determined to go to college, will the academic year ever mean anything again. Brooklyn's string of part-time jobs have already given him a taste of his future in menial jobs. So has Teddy's little business selling grills(1) given him a glimpse into the future.
Rashad's story is altogether different. He doesn't have a plan. What he has is a lot of responsibilities.
Rashad has responsibility at school by day (the least of his worries) and cleaning offices and a Value Village store with his uncle by night. (Uncle George does little of the work and keeps most of the money.) Rashad has a responsibility to his younger brother Ant, for whose future Rashad is saving his meager wages. (Ant isn't waiting for some undefined future though. He wants to get his now.) Rashad has a pretty, mysterious new girlfriend, too. (She's really into Rashad, but she's keeping a very big secret from him.) Rashad has a responsibility to his buddies, too, to plan and practice and perfect a winning skating routine for the Skate Wars.
Needless to say, Rashad broods. It doesn't matter that he is a teenager and that there are many more serious things waiting for him in adulthood. He worries, and I think, "I've been there." You've been there, too, with too much to do, to plan, to worry about. Heck, in these days of economic recession and shrinking government budgets, you may be there right now.
Sometimes living in these modern times in this first-world country gives us much to worry and brood about. There are immediate issues, mid term worries, and long term planning. What's for lunch? How am I going to send the kids to college? Will I ever be able to retire? One way to deal with life's issues, questions, and decisions is to look five weeks ahead.
Tempted by fast food? Visualize a healthier you five weeks from now if you don't have that fatty, greasy meal. Planning for your children's future? Take five weeks to research your options and set one in motion. Can't figure out your retirement? Well, start thinking about it five weeks from now.
Simply put: in five weeks' time, you can change the course of your whole life.
(1) Grill (jewelry) In hip hop culture, a grill (also front or golds) is a type of jewelry worn over the teeth. Grills are made of metal and are generally removable. They began to be worn by hip hop artists in the early 1980s, but they became widely popular during the mid-2000s due to the rise of Dirty South rap. Though grills are fitted to the tooth impression of the wearer, whether they are safe for long-term wear is unknown. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)
Only for Esquire, bound and determined to go to college, will the academic year ever mean anything again. Brooklyn's string of part-time jobs have already given him a taste of his future in menial jobs. So has Teddy's little business selling grills(1) given him a glimpse into the future.
Rashad's story is altogether different. He doesn't have a plan. What he has is a lot of responsibilities.
Rashad has responsibility at school by day (the least of his worries) and cleaning offices and a Value Village store with his uncle by night. (Uncle George does little of the work and keeps most of the money.) Rashad has a responsibility to his younger brother Ant, for whose future Rashad is saving his meager wages. (Ant isn't waiting for some undefined future though. He wants to get his now.) Rashad has a pretty, mysterious new girlfriend, too. (She's really into Rashad, but she's keeping a very big secret from him.) Rashad has a responsibility to his buddies, too, to plan and practice and perfect a winning skating routine for the Skate Wars.
Needless to say, Rashad broods. It doesn't matter that he is a teenager and that there are many more serious things waiting for him in adulthood. He worries, and I think, "I've been there." You've been there, too, with too much to do, to plan, to worry about. Heck, in these days of economic recession and shrinking government budgets, you may be there right now.
Sometimes living in these modern times in this first-world country gives us much to worry and brood about. There are immediate issues, mid term worries, and long term planning. What's for lunch? How am I going to send the kids to college? Will I ever be able to retire? One way to deal with life's issues, questions, and decisions is to look five weeks ahead.
Tempted by fast food? Visualize a healthier you five weeks from now if you don't have that fatty, greasy meal. Planning for your children's future? Take five weeks to research your options and set one in motion. Can't figure out your retirement? Well, start thinking about it five weeks from now.
Simply put: in five weeks' time, you can change the course of your whole life.
(1) Grill (jewelry) In hip hop culture, a grill (also front or golds) is a type of jewelry worn over the teeth. Grills are made of metal and are generally removable. They began to be worn by hip hop artists in the early 1980s, but they became widely popular during the mid-2000s due to the rise of Dirty South rap. Though grills are fitted to the tooth impression of the wearer, whether they are safe for long-term wear is unknown. (From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)
Saturday, January 15, 2011
The Edge, Antibonding: More Quotable Lines
I've not really moved this plot forward much for you readers, have I? It's because, in my memory, the plot is not my focus. "There's a plane crash, and then there's a series of bear chases. And then there's a moment of bonding, followed by a moment of confrontation--then home." For me, that's the plot. The things I carry with me, from state to state to state, about this movie, are the lines: moments of humor or connection between the men (they start out as three); barbed comments; sudden discovery; triumph--it's all there. As with No Country, I am wont to insert these bits in places in my own life, when it's appropriate. I have tried to limit this practice to my journals, however; people tend to eye me with suspicion, otherwise.
Here are a few quotes that I remember:
Exhorting:
1. After a big disappointment, a mistake in navigation that puts them back at Square One, the men begin lashing out at one another. Morse reminds them not to give up:
"Shall we lay down and die, Bob? [shouting] Shall we lay down and die?"
Bonding:
2. Bob and Charles are scanning the horizon after making camp for their wounded comrade, Steven (a non-character in his own right). "Puts things in perspective, doesn’t is?," says Bob, smoking.
“What’s that?” says Morse.
"Out here. Little different from the fashion world. Little different from snorting coke off the girls’ hip bones.”
“In what way?” says Charles, smiling at his little joke.
Humor:
3. Bob and Charles are relaxing on a log, roasting bear meat after the great triumph. "You see, Charles, that’s why they call it personal growth. A month ago, old Smokey here woulda reared up, you probably woulda called your lawyer!"
"No, " says Morse, slowly, "I wouldn't do that to an animal."
This camaraderie is short-lived. Once it seems they'll in fact make it back to civilization, Bob's old envy returns like a drug habit, like the snake in the fable: “because it’s in my nature!” The moment is recorded in a facial gesture. Bob begins to plot. He plots, and fails. He connives, and loses. Morse uses Bob's own weaknesses--his weight, as it were--to kill him. On the principle of the deadfall. And then, he scoops him up and rushes him back to the modern world, tries to save his life. Sort of like, "You had to mess with me! You know I have to defeat you, when you mess with me! But, I didn't want to have to defeat you! You made me!!"
I am thinking Mamet's original tale is much more smug and nasty, on both men's parts. Hopkins’ Morse is older, gentler, and, yet, some people really are that foolish. I'm coming to grips with the fact that maybe this movie is just about some stupid people. It almost doesn't matter whether or not their author is stupid right along with them.
Here are a few quotes that I remember:
Exhorting:
1. After a big disappointment, a mistake in navigation that puts them back at Square One, the men begin lashing out at one another. Morse reminds them not to give up:
"Shall we lay down and die, Bob? [shouting] Shall we lay down and die?"
Bonding:
2. Bob and Charles are scanning the horizon after making camp for their wounded comrade, Steven (a non-character in his own right). "Puts things in perspective, doesn’t is?," says Bob, smoking.
“What’s that?” says Morse.
"Out here. Little different from the fashion world. Little different from snorting coke off the girls’ hip bones.”
“In what way?” says Charles, smiling at his little joke.
Humor:
3. Bob and Charles are relaxing on a log, roasting bear meat after the great triumph. "You see, Charles, that’s why they call it personal growth. A month ago, old Smokey here woulda reared up, you probably woulda called your lawyer!"
This camaraderie is short-lived. Once it seems they'll in fact make it back to civilization, Bob's old envy returns like a drug habit, like the snake in the fable: “because it’s in my nature!” The moment is recorded in a facial gesture. Bob begins to plot. He plots, and fails. He connives, and loses. Morse uses Bob's own weaknesses--his weight, as it were--to kill him. On the principle of the deadfall. And then, he scoops him up and rushes him back to the modern world, tries to save his life. Sort of like, "You had to mess with me! You know I have to defeat you, when you mess with me! But, I didn't want to have to defeat you! You made me!!"
I am thinking Mamet's original tale is much more smug and nasty, on both men's parts. Hopkins’ Morse is older, gentler, and, yet, some people really are that foolish. I'm coming to grips with the fact that maybe this movie is just about some stupid people. It almost doesn't matter whether or not their author is stupid right along with them.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
ATL: What It Is
The movie ATL is not unique. It's a buddy flick. It's a coming-of-age flick. It's a learning-right-from-wrong flick. It's a doing-right-and-making-mistakes film. It's a comedy, and it's a drama. You've seen this movie before.
ATL is a lot of other things, too. It's a stage for an impressive cast of black actors, including several rappers and musicians. It's an ode to a certain Atlanta neighborhood. It's a window into a certain way of life and its opposite lifestyle. It's "a new American story," as its tagline declares. And it's a source of little wisdoms apt for everyday use.
Let me be clear, I'm not talking about the big, obvious lessons of the film. Do Rashad and his friends, like teens everywhere, suffer angst? Duh. Is it difficult for Uncle George and for Ms. Gayle to parent headstrong teenagers? Heck yeah. Should Ant, eager to be grown and rich, turn to "grown man business"? Obviously not.
Tune in to my next five posts to find out how the little wisdoms of this big film stick with me and will stick with you. You'll find yourself wanting to live your passion, looking back at your younger self, dancing in the mirror, looking ahead in five-week chunks, and asking yourself the big question, "What's next?"
Until then, get ATL. Watch it. Pay close attention. And keep in mind that "just 'cause your head big doesn't make you smart."
ATL is a lot of other things, too. It's a stage for an impressive cast of black actors, including several rappers and musicians. It's an ode to a certain Atlanta neighborhood. It's a window into a certain way of life and its opposite lifestyle. It's "a new American story," as its tagline declares. And it's a source of little wisdoms apt for everyday use.
Let me be clear, I'm not talking about the big, obvious lessons of the film. Do Rashad and his friends, like teens everywhere, suffer angst? Duh. Is it difficult for Uncle George and for Ms. Gayle to parent headstrong teenagers? Heck yeah. Should Ant, eager to be grown and rich, turn to "grown man business"? Obviously not.
Tune in to my next five posts to find out how the little wisdoms of this big film stick with me and will stick with you. You'll find yourself wanting to live your passion, looking back at your younger self, dancing in the mirror, looking ahead in five-week chunks, and asking yourself the big question, "What's next?"
Until then, get ATL. Watch it. Pay close attention. And keep in mind that "just 'cause your head big doesn't make you smart."
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