A Nerd Arguing with Himself and Safety Not Guaranteed

Note: I'm going to talk about the ending of Safety Not Guaranteed in this post because I can't talk about what I want to talk about without the ending, it being the most important part of the film. So go drive to a theater and watch the damn thing. It's worth it.

Because I'm an asshole, I usually have trouble watching films that involve time travel. Now, this concept doesn't really apply to Safety Not Guaranteed, a film more interested in risk taking and jumping into the unknown, but this already-tangential post will find a way to make it relevant. As for my trouble with time travel, I might as well put on my Nerd-Who-Will-Obsessively-Be-Bothered-By-Insignificant-Details-Instead-Of-Enjoying-Things cap (get ready for a lot of therefores) and say that it (time travel, I mean) cannot exist (at least in linear time) if the sole purpose traveling through time is to change something.

So here is a very complicated thought-experiment I have with myself constantly whenever the concept of time travel is brought up. 

If you want to make sure your best friend dog, Rufus, doesn't get run over by the Bad Man in the Green Truck, and you succeed, there will be no reason for you to travel back in time, therefore, making your need to form an ultimate quest to travel back in time to save your dog non-existent, therefore making the time traveling machine you have created also non-existent, therefore ensuring that the events of you traveling in time never happen, which creates even more complicated situations. The present You that you now know will now be someone that you knew (or, really, never knew at all), as s/he will disappear due to the fact that the saving of your dogs life will probably alter the course of your life, creating different life experiences, motivations, etc (a flap of a butterfly wing...). So this present You that has, in whatever way, saved your dog has become non-existent by the sheer action of saving your dog. In fact, s/he has never existed. This creates another (and I think the most damning) complication. If this person, the one being the most important part in saving your dog, never existed, then how in the hell is your dog not run over by the Bad Man in the Green Truck? So if there's one thing to take from this paragraph, it's that you're dog is going to die, and I'm sorry, but it's going to happen, okay? But then again, I'm taking an utterly science-fiction concept and applying real-life rules to it, so what the hell do I know? (I'm still looking forward to Looper, and I'm especially excited to see how it treats time travel, for what it's worth.)

DO YOU GET 

So now that you know where I'm coming from, you can understand why I was conflicted, at first, when the revealing last shot of Safety Not Guaranteed projected onto the screen, and I became a human Mr. Spock, my emotional self and my logical self at an impasse. Throughout the entire movie I treated Kenneth as Darrius did, with respect, some affection (it's hard to dislike someone so uncynical), and with an understanding that while he may be a little weird, he's ultimately harmless. Sure, he steals lasers from government buildings, but he's not killing anyone, and he treats his "missions" the same way a child would go about pretending to be James Bond, his back to the wall and his hand in the shape of gun close to his chest. So no, I didn't believe that he had a time machine, and that's what made his actions and mannerisms so appealing.

And I still didn't believe him when I saw his time machine boat. And I still didn't believe it when all of the complicated machinery started to move and build momentum. And I still didn't believe it when a bright, green laser went up into the air. But then the bubble emerged and surrounded Kenneth and Darius, and they disappeared, and I'm left just like Jeff on the side going, "Oh my god." Someone in the back of the theater yelled a triumphant woo! and the audience laughed, and I loved it. I love how the film made me feel guilty (which isn't necessarily a hard thing to do, but still) telling me, "Shame on you for ever doubting Kenneth. He was all there, you just couldn't see it." I love how it just leaves you there with nothing else to go on. Just a Nope, he's right and you're wrong and no moving on.

But afterwards, my asshole mind starts to think and logic starts to set in. So it really was Kenneth and Darius who must have saved his ex on one of their missions, and that's why she exists. But that can't be. Then Kenneth would have never made the time traveling machine. His note-card carrier in the mossy truck would have no purpose. He would have never bought the ad in the paper. He would have never met Darius. None of this would have happened.

While logically I was picking the film apart much like I (and countless others) did to Prometheus, emotionally I was satisfied, and didn't care about any of the logical holes that I find inherent in time travel. Instead of thinking about the voids that, logically, Kenneth and Darius would make, the image of the time bubble sucking them up left me thinking (for once) of infinite possibilities. Possibilities that would have been attained if Darius hadn't taken the leap and grabbed Kenneth's hand. Possibilities that would have never happened had the brainy intern never been pushed into romantic situations. Possibilities that would not have happened had they not taken the risk and just gone for it. It's much more fun to picture Kenneth and Darius as a time traveling duo, anyways.

I wouldn't say that Safety Not Guaranteed made me feel stupid, but I did feel disappointed in myself for ever caring about time travel logic. Logic might be the right way, but sometimes it's the boring way. The way that will leave you stuck. A way that might leave you unsatisfied. Safety might have made me feel guilty and disappointed at myself, but I'm happy for it, and I'm satisfied.

I Saw WEEKEND Last Night...

...and I thought it was really good. (There. Blog post of the week over.)

My favorite parts of the film were when it touched on how strangers can leave strong, lasting marks on someone in such a short amount of time. The capacity in which someone is willing to open themselves up so quickly really speaks to me. Just a bit of wish fulfillment for someone (i.e. me) who takes months and months just to allow someone else to open themselves up to them. It's those moments that people might want to use to say, "The film isn't about gay love. It's about love in general," or something along those line. You can look at it like that, sure, but while those aspects are wonderful, they aren't key. See, this film is totally about gay love and what it means to be gay and in love in a straight-love dominated world. This is a film about the relationship between the two cultures. (To be clear, I'm not saying that there are separate types of loves, one straight and one gay. That leads to comparisons and invites unwanted implications on my part. I just mean to use those terms as a form of distinction, like saying "boy friend" and "girl friend" to mean a friend that is a boy/girl.)

WEEKEND doesn't necessarily have to make a case to say that the gay and straight cultures are at odds, whether hostile or just mildly uncomfortable, but it does make a case that they are two different worlds. There are two moments that I want to emphasize here:


1) When listening in to a graphic (and really gross) sex story from a straight co-worker, Russel seems extremely uncomfortable and out of place. One might think that it's obviously because the story being told is so disgusting, and you know, he's gay, but really there's more to it: it's the fact this guy is talking about it in public in the first place.

He brings it up when he and Glen have a conversation over lunch about Glen's art project (taping the morning after thoughts of Glen's sexual encounters. What happened, what they wanted to happen, etc).

Russell: "I'm not sure people want to hear about the random sex lives of strangers."
Glen: "Imagine if everybody was just open about what they did and then everything is just normal."
Russell: "Yeah, but people are open about it."
Glen: "Are they?"
Russell: "There's this guy at work today--I'm just sitting there having my lunch, and he starts talking about how many fingers he can put up a girl's fanny."
Glen: "Yeah, but was he gay?"
Russell: "No."
Glen: "Well there you go then...Gay people never talk about it in public unless it's just cheap innuendo."

2) When Russell asks Glen how he's going to present his art project, Glen is at a loss. He wants everyone to see it, but he knows that's not a possibility right now:

"The problem is no one's going to come and see it because it's about gay sex. So the gays will only come because they want a glimpse of a cock and they'll be disappointed. And the straights won't come because, well, it's got nothing to do with their world. They'll go and see pictures of refuges or murder or rape but gay sex...fuck off."

In both moments you see Glen's struggling with his yearning to bring both gay and straight cultures together, and the impossibility of accomplishing his desire. He wants everyone to live openly, to make everything "normal", to bring people in a constant state of "yeah, okay?" when regarding to gay or straight culture. He wants to destroy the words gay and straight and let people just be people.

And in some ways, the film is taking place of his art project. We see every bit of Glen and Russell's relationship: the get-to-know-you's, the arguments, the sex, the heartbreak. Writer/director/editor Andrew Haigh is making these every bit of their relationship public to us. It wants to make it normal. What's interesting, though, is the way he shows their relationship while they are in public themselves.

About every scene where both Glen and Russell are together in public, they are in the background. Extras constantly cross their path and cover their bodies (sometimes covering up the whole frame itself). When there aren't any extras, they are shown in extreme long shot, barely distinguishable from other people, and even sometimes, the camera is behind an object, creating a barrier between them and the audience.

The film will not tear away from the fact that these two people are outsiders to society, that they have been pushed so far to the side that they are hidden and need to be pointed out to spot. They are so foreign that the camera (in these public scenes) becomes a makeshift private detective, always following them from behind, eavesdropping on their conversation, watching their movements, studying their body language. It's easy to see it jotting notes and nodding it's head as it learns about Russell and Glen. All of this is juxtaposed to the scenes in Russell's apartment. There, the camera shares an intimate relationship with them. It's close enough to have a conversation with them. It's with them in the bathtub. It's in the bed with them as they have sex. Now, the camera (throughout the whole film) seems to be an, as Glen would say, ashamed gay person, who will act themselves in the privacy of their own home, but in public is self-conscious and possibly self-loathed, still keeping up the "outsider" status of homosexuality.

Now you can put this all together and see a small problem. If the film wants to talk about gay sexuality and love in the open, if it wants to make all of this normal in the public eye, then why is it treating it's protagonists as outsiders, as abnormal, in the realm that needs it normalization the most? If Haigh wanted to normalize his characters, he should have filmed them in a way that normalizes them in all aspects, right? There would be no private-eye camera to distance them from the audience in public scenes. So what's up?

As one of the last scene implies, maybe the world just isn't ready or mature enough for it yet. At least not now. Change takes a long time, and we're just at the beginning it seems. In this scene, Russell meets Glen at the train station for one last goodbye (a la BEFORE SUNRISE and LOST AND TRANSLATION) before they possibly never see each other again. This scene includes an emotional climax for both characters with Russell finally showing physical affection in public, and Glen struggling with a love he doesn't want. It's one of the film's most emotionally raw and honest scenes, and the moment is almost ruined by two things:

1) A woman walks into frame, notices what's going on, and quickly walks out of frame.

Her motivation for abruptly changing her course is unclear, but it does have something to do with Glen and Russell. Maybe she wanted to get away from gay men having a moment because she was grossed out. Or maybe she just wanted to give them space. It does let us know that they are being watched though. And it's hard to not feel uncomfortable at her hasty exit.

2) A man off screen gives that cheeky whistle and yells at the couple and calls them "gay boys," maybe pointing them out to his friends or something...

...and you can see the anger in Russell's eyes.

But there is another possibility for its public scenes. Maybe it's for the purpose of frustrating the audience, just as the man frustrates Russel. With all of the obstacles in the way, Haigh wants the audience to get upset. He wants them to yell at the extras to get out of the way. He wants us to turn down the volume of that damn train. He wants us to want to see what they're doing. He wants us to want to punch that man in face just like Russell probably wants to do. He wants those moments ruined. Only then will the audience realize that they are invested in the character's relationship, their emotional journeys, and the characters themselves. Only then will we understand that we are seeing them any other human being. And that's the beginning of normalization.


  

Plot Run-Down of Prometheus

I just saw PROMETHEUS, and while it had a rough, cliched start, I really enjoyed myself...for the first half. Once the amazing cesarean scene is over and done with the film takes a nose dive into plot points so full of ambiguity that it's hard to stop asking yourself why anything is happening on screen.  

I know that there are some theories (one particularly popular) as to what was going on, but here's my thing: I won't listen to new information about the film from interviews with Ridley Scott. I don't care if the Engineers wanted to destroy the humans because we crucified Space Jockey Jesus. In the film, there is no mention of a Space Jockey Jesus. There aren't even hints at a Space Jockey Jesus. The reasoning behind their wish to destroy humans is clearly left a mystery considering it is the main question used for a jumping off point for another sequel if Ridley Scott or whoever decides to make one. So, to make this clear: Space Jockey Jesus doesn't exist because it is not in the film. I won't allow outside information to fill in the many gaps this films has. It HAS to be from the film. And it isn't. So I won't accept it.

And yes, when you look at only the film itself, it makes no sense. My first thought after walking out of the theater was, "I need to write all of the plot points down to make sure I'm not just confusing myself." So this is what this blog post is. It's something for me. I need the film on paper to see how nonsensical it really is.

1. Space Jockey (SJ) drinks mysterious black liquid. He disintegrates as his DNA is transformed into whatever it is and is washed away presumably to start the first step of that planet's biological evolution.
2. Shaw and Boyfriend discover another of a series of symbols from past empires/generations depicting the Space Jockey's pointing to the stars. They interpret this as an invitation. (So are we supposed to believe that the SJs are coming to Earth every now and then to invite us to a planet (that turns out isn't their home planet) where they create the weapons to destroy us?)
3. Everyone travels ("half a billion miles from Earth," says Vickers, which REALLY takes you only past Jupiter, but I will admit that that IS nitpicky) to the SJ planet that we were theoretically invited to.
4. They find a huge mound/fortress on the planet, and explore its insides. 
5. While navigating the tunnels, David, who has some understanding of the language, retraces the writing on the wall and an amazing hologram comes up that shows what happened to the SJs in that area. (Sure, I'll let the tracing the wall = hologram popping up. This is science fiction after all, so you have to let some unexplained technological things slide.)
6. They find the decapitated body of a SJ. David opens the door and inside are jars of the mysterious black goo and the SJ's head. Opening the door changes the atmosphere, which preserved everything inside, and thus things start the change. The mural disintegrates. The jars start to ooze out the goo. The head starts to decompose.
7. Punk Rocker Geologist and Friend freak out and leave. (Good thinking.)
8. Dangerous sand storm comes out of nowhere.
9. They grab the head, leave the fortress, and return to Prometheus. (By the way, no mention of the Punk Rocker Geologist and Friend, who we will find out later, hasn't showed up.)
10. Shaw (who is now well versed in human biology?) and Other Lady "make the nerves" of the head "believe it is still alive". Head explodes. (This I don't mind at all. Cool effect. Nice, gross explosion. Ultimately innocuous.)
11. Punk Rocker Geologist and Friend are lost. (NOW we realize this?) They travel to the previous room and find the black goo is everywhere and a penis-head monster. (Which appears for no reason. I assume it had always been there?) The penis-head monster breaks Friend's arm and shoves itself in the mouth. Punk Rocker Geologist's helmet gets smashed in from the penis-head monster and falls, getting black goo in his face.
12. We see David speaking to someone in cryostasis. (Weyland, clearly.) Wickers demands to know what he said and David refuses to say anything important.
13. David (under orders I assume, considering this sequence immediately follows his speaking with Weyland), messes with the black goo, and makes sure drunk Boyfriend consumes it. (This scene is intercutted with Shaw discovering the DNA samples match between the SJs and themselves.)
14. Boyfriend and Shaw have sex. (Because they love each other, aw). This is also when we learn that Shaw is barren. 
15. The next morning Boyfriend wakes up and goes to the mirror. He sees blood around his iris and then a worm jutting out. (Must be nothing. He doesn't mention it right then and there.)
16. Search party goes out looking for Punk Rocker Geologist and Friend who have mysteriously not contacted the ship, and find their dead bodies. (We also see that the penis-head monster is using Friend's esophagus as a new home).
17. Boyfriend gets exponentially sicker, and they rush him off back to Prometheus. 
18. Wickers, who logically realizes that Boyfriend is contaminated beyond repair, burns him. (Boyfriend even asked for it).
19. Next shot is Shaw in medical bay as David takes her cross (and puts it in his utility belt?) He informs her that she's pregnant, and not with a human child. So he wants to put her into cryostasis.
20. When Other Lady and another worker come up to put her in cryostasis, she runs away...
21. ...and is able to peform emergency c-section surgery without anyone else interfering. (Look, it's not like she knocked out Other Lady and the worker. They could have detained her easily. It took her several seconds to get into the medical machine. But that's not the main issue. The main issue is with the monster that comes out of her. This monster creates a whole mess of xenomorphic/human/SJ/biological problems.This is a being that is half human / half black goo infected human. This is a tentacle monster. What exactly does this goo do? It created us, right? Wasn't the purpose of the first sequence to inform us that it creates new DNA? But what exactly in humans makes this tentacle monster appear? If we came from the SJs+goo, then why at the end of the film, does the xenomorph come from SJ+Spawn of Human+Goo Infested Human? 
22. Then Punk Rocker Geologist, alive now, (Is the black goo the cause of this? Why isn't HE some tentacle monster?) drags himself to the ship where he proceeds to go nuts on everyone with super human (Dare I say, Engineer-like?) strength, but is killed when he is run over and set on fire.
23. Shaw, after her traumatizing surgery opens a door to see Weyland alive and on the ship. (She's able to just walk in on him without any fuss. She just opens the door. And David says, "I didn't think you'd have it in you,"  meaning the surgery. What the hell is he talking about? Was this some sort of test for Shaw from David? Did he plan on this happening? Is that why he kept the tentacle monster inside her? To see if she'd perform a c-section like that? Why? What was the purpose of him saying that? What the hell, David! And, plus, if you know about the surgery, why aren't you questioning what happened to the tentacle monster? Why is no one else mentioning it?)
24. Weyland, David, and Shaw decide to meet the one living SJ to ask him some questions. (Why is he the only living one? Did he put himself in cryostasis when the shit hit the fan?)
25. We learn that Theron's dad is Weyland! (Why do we care?)
26. The Captain tells Shaw that this planet was really a place to manufacture weapons for the destruction of the human race. (So the black goo is a weapon? How is this possible? I know "if one wants to create they must sometimes first destroy," but really? We've already seen what happens when humans are infected with the black goo: they get stronger and crazier. This seems ineffective.)
27. So Weyland gets suited up and off they go.
28. David wakes up SJ with a space flute or something.
29. SJ emerges, then once he finds out he's dealing with humans he goes apeshit on their asses. 
30. Shaw runs away. Weyland dies. Fassbender is decapitated.
31. The SJ spaceship (that has been under the fortress this whole time)  is about to take off for Earth. (Ah, we finally see the SJ in the famous chair from Alien.)
32. Shaw tells the Captain what is happening. He understands and Theron runs away to the escape pod.
33. Captain runs into SJ spaceship. (Here we are to believe that the SJ dies in his chair, waiting for the characters of Alien to find him.)
34. SJ ship falls. Theron runs under the ship, ensuring her, at one time, logical ass to get crushed. Shaw rolls three body revolutions and is safe. (A potential tense scene is ruined by common sense.)
35. Shaw runs to the escape pod, where her tentacle fetus has grown. (As quickly as a Xenomorph.)
36. SJ goes to escape pod for whatever reason. (I guess to pilot it? Even though there are plenty of other SJ spaceships around we learn later on?)
37. Shaw's tentacle monster turns out to be a super face hugger and impregnates SJ.
38. Shaw meets up with Fassbender to use the other ships around the planet so they can meet the engineers even though they clearly want to kill them. (But dammit, they NEED to know what they did that caused the SJs to want to destroy them!)
39. Xenomorph is born from SJ. (Making Xenomorphs the babies of humans/goo humans/space jockeys.)
40. Then End (What just happened?)

Having written all of this down, it's clear where my main problem lies: with the black goo. It is, to me, one of the most vital parts of the story, but we are given absolutely no real information on it except that it changes DNA. Because it is such a vital part of the film, I need to know more about it. Unfortunately, the film never tells us exactly what it is. Is it a weapon? Is it the human race? Is it the Xenomorph? Is it destruction? Is it Creation? Ultimately, it's whatever the writers want it to be. And that's just lazy.

Welcome to Two Years Ago!

Welcome to the Inaugural Edition of Welcome to Two Years Ago! Where I watch a film that was released two years ago, and I give a brief review of it. Because there's nothing more fun than reading a review two years in the making.

The film (who should be honored) to start Welcome to Two Years Ago!: Radu Muntean's TUESDAY, AFTER CHRISTMAS. (Hooray! Applause! Congratulations! Bows!) I decided to choose this film, from the Romanian New Wave, to celebrate this inauguration because what other type of film can portray such excitement, such chaos, such fun as a film from the RNW.

Paul Hanganu, an ordinary (maybe even boring) man, has been having an affair with Raluca, his daughter's orthodontist, for five months. As Christmas comes closer, it gets harder and harder for him to maintain his two lives: the one with his wife, Adriana, and daughter, and the one with Raluca. It's not that he gets weird, suspicious phone calls in the night and it's not that he's running out of  good excuses to go see Raluca. His secret is safe (at least Adriana hasn't said anything). Instead, it's just that he loves Raluca and wants (needs) to see her more.

Like most stories about infidelity, this one is also mundane and banal. We've seen this before. But maybe not with the sympathy and care for its characters that TUESDAY shows. We understand where Paul is coming from. His life with Adriana seems to have no spark anymore. It's all business with them. But there's also an extreme intimacy there that only a long-lived couple can attain, where they seem to truly understand each other. Both of these moments are captured in one scene where Adriana is trimming Paul's hair in the bathroom. She's in her bathrobe and Paul is completely nude. His poor posture indicates his dissatisfaction with his current life. Still, Adriana finishes and calls him handsome. It's a brilliant moment that may not seem much on paper, but in reality the complexities are immediately apparent.

Once again, the long takes that is the RNW is known for create a sense of realism to the whole ordeal. It even seems that we're watching this family fall apart in real time. During these extremely long takes the camera shows us only what it wants us to. Instead of watching Adriana and Raluca discuss the dental plan for Adriana's daughter, the camera is only focused on Paul, leaving everyone else off screen. While we see his discomfort, we sense his panic. It's a great trick to bring intensity into a scene that is by no means inherently tense while keeping the realism of the film intact.

While the realism and characterizations are great, it still can't lift the weight of the lump story, which like I said, is just mundane. Admittedly, there is more to the story, I think. Unfortunately, I don't know what to make of it. Literally every conversation that doesn't involve the affair are about gifts. What is this person getting that person for Christmas? I got this person that present. Oh he'll love that. You shouldn't spoil her. I know, but it's my pleasure. We are constantly bombarded with conversations about gifts. Maybe there's a parallel here. Maybe the film is just emphasizing the spark that is gained back from transitioning into a free-market economy, just like Paul has gained a new spark with Raluca. I'm still not entirely sure. Regardless, this is one film that I won't be putting as one of the greats of the RNW, but it's decent.