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.