Preliminarily, my take on Henry Cavill as Superman is ambivalent. He's not awful. His Superman wears a perrenial frown of slight annoyance, as when you spill catsup on your shirt. You aren't happy, but your world's not ending either. The problem is, in many cases, Superman's world is ending. So, when he cocks his head and presses his lips together, disapproving but relatively nonchalant, should we expect more from him or are his understated reactions a sign of confidence that only superior beings possess? Is it bad acting or just Cavill cool? Hard to say.
I knew this was an origin story, but I didn't realize it would really be a movie long battle between Superman and the people from his own planet, with humans just along for the ride. Interesting take, but as with Iron Man (and his iron buddies), too much super strength weakens the heart of the story. What is most compelling about a hero is his invulnerability compared to mortal fragility. When there is no comparison and he's surrounded by villains who are just as invincible and impenetrable as he is, then where's the awe? You smash someone into a building, the building crumbles but they are unscathed. In order to care, during endless action scenes, I have to feel a sense of risk and wonder and it's just not there.
The movie begins with Krypton in jeopardy. Kal-El has just been born and his parents are under siege. They sit on a council and General Zod is overthrowing it, for reasons that are unclear. They're explained later in the movie. While I can understand staged denouement and it's fitting that the audience learns some things later on when Kal-El learns them for the first time, I think we need to understand the conflict in the earlier scenes more. Krypton was imploding but (not having read the comic books) I did not know why. I knew that Jor-El and Zod were opponents, but didn't know what their opposing views were and how their battle would change Krypton's doomed fate either way. I think the script could have preserved some suspense concerning Superman's true mission in life, but still revealed more about the competing interests of Jor-El and Zod in the beginning.
I know I was reading it wrong, since Zod actually seemed to be sweet on a girl of his own, the evil Faora-Ul, but I sensed a vibe between Zod and Lara Lor-Van, Superman's mother. He was trying to stop her from launching valuable material out of Krypton and I was struck by the familiar tone with which he called her name. The movie made clear that Zod and Jor-El had once been friends and Zod actually wanted Jor-El on his side. Zod was evil now, but hadn't always been. Jor-El said he chose to honor the values of the man Zod had been, rather than concede to the monster he'd become. So, it's conceivable that they'd all been pals once. Yet, I sensed a rivalrous mood between Zod and Jor-El that was not present between Zod and Lara. When he tells her to abort the launch, her hand does pause on the clutch. It is purely for dramatic effect or because Zod has gotten to her just a bit?
Later, Zod kills Jor-El in rage, but does not try to harm Lara, who has been acting in tandem with Jor-El all along, at all. Then too, when Jor-El and Lara needly boast to Zod that they have a son who was conceived and born naturally Lara takes pride in telling Zod, "His name is Ka-El, Son of El." I felt she was taunting him, reminding him that she created a child with El, not Zod. But I guess that was all my imagination and no romantic triangle actually existed between the 3.
Anyway, it turns out that they'd stop conceiving kids on Krypton. They were all synthetically created in pods, to fulfill specific roles in the society. True intelligent design. Jor-El and Lara had bucked the system. They had helped make the world Krypton had become, but didn't like it. They feared a world where everyone's life was planned from birth to death. Where everyone followed a designated path. They wanted a child of their own, born naturally, who's future was uncharted and limitless. Who was free to become whatever he envisioned. Krypton was environmentally unsound and was dying. They sent out ships with manned outposts to various other planets, looking for a new home, a world that would be compatible with the life they'd built on Krypton. They catapulted their newborn son into that unknown world hoping that if he grew up with the inhabitants there, he could be one with them and evolve into a bridge between those natives and whatever Kryptonite refugees survived Krypton's death. Ka-El would be part of both worlds. That was the plan. Lara was sorry to see her son go, knowing she would not live to witness the man he would become and worried about the reception he would receive on the other planet. Jor-El assures her that the boy will be fine. He will be considered a God. Well, fine, but how does he know this? He is not intentionally sending Superman to Earth, as far as I can tell. How does he know what kind of life forms will inhabit whatever place the boy ends up end?
Anyway, since Lara and Jor-El kept their son a secret for so long, once they send him off to another planet with such high hopes, I don't know why they then boast about him to Zod. Giving him an excuse to hunt the kid down and kill him. Of course, if Zod didn't have that goal, we'd have no movie, so . . . yak your heads off Lara and Jor-El.
So, Zod plans to get Ka-El, but first things first. There is a kodex that Jor-El has taken and its imperative that Zod find it. The audience doesn't know what the kodex is initially, but we find out it is the genetic code for all of Krypton. It's what they used to make their synthetic babies. With that gone, Krypton cannot reproduce. They have no future (although couldn't the survivors replicate through sexual intercourse, old school, the way Lara and Jor-El did?). Zod is furious that Jor-El has fired the kodex out of Krypton, but I wonder why the other council members aren't mad too. Don't they care that Jor-El has unilaterally made a decision that will erase all of their futures. From what I can see, Jor-El isn't even their leader. He's just a high-ranking officer. He seems to have had a lot of nerve, but they aren't too fussed about it. They capture Zod and punish him and his crew for their revolt, imprisoning him in a phantom zone that is not part of Krypton. But since they know Krypton is dying, aren't they knowingly sparing Zod's life by sending him to a place that won't go down in flames. Also, why don't any of them try to escape the planet. Lara and Jor-El sent Superman away. Why didn't they all go somewhere? Jor-El (his conscience lives on like a ghost who can interact with the living) later explains that he chose not to go, because he and Lara participated in Krypton's downfall and had to suffer the consequences, but duh. Did all Krypton citizens feel that way? All of them chose to go down with the ship, instead of fleeing to another planet and starting a new and better life, having learned from Krypton's mistakes? It doesn't make sense.
I don't know if this will come up later in sequels, but I saw someone swim in and steal one of the synthetic baby pods. What did they do with it? Are we going to see some synthetic person from Krypton in one of the future films? Anyway, soon after Zod and his gang are deported to the phantom zone, Krypton goes down in flames and Lara doesn't even bother to take cover. She knows that there is no place to hide, as she is consumed in the apocalyptic fire.
Back on earth we see a young Superman. He has just saved men on a tanker. He is bearded with curly hair and floating under the boat with his arms splayed out, he is very much like Christ on the crucifix. This parallel, Ka-El sacrificing himself to save a world of people who know not what they do, is a recurring theme in the film and, at one point, Superman enters a church and talks to a priest with a large mural of Jesus as his backdrop. Like Jesus, Superman is not earthly, but the son of a great entity sent for a specific purpose.
Superman's youth is not followed chronologically, but unfolds in flashbacks. His ship landed in a farmer's back yard in Kansas. Jonathan (or Joseph) and Martha Kent raise the boy as their own and hide his space ship in their barn. When he is about 7, the child is still grappling with the enormity of his powers. He is in class when he suddenly can't control his x-ray vision and sensitivity to sound and touch. He runs out of the room and locks himself in a small janitor's closet. Using his x-ray vision to laser into the doorknob, making it too hot for the teacher to open. She calls his mother, who gently talks him out. "The world is too big," he tells her. Then make it smaller. Imagine yourself elsewhere. You're in the water floating. Swim over to me. The child calms down. Quiets his fears and is able to "swim" over to the door and turn the handle, to let his mother in. He remembers this incident as he lays in the ocean, after rescuing the tanker. It gives him the boost he needs to swim up and away. Having exposed his superhuman strength in order to save lives, he cannot stay. He has to move on, find a new identity and different low-paying job. Blend in, but never fit in.
This has been a pattern throughout his life. He was always taunted and bullied by the other kids and couldn't retaliate because he'd hurt them or, worse, in his father's eyes, he'd expose himself. Once kids were attacking him on a school bus. The driver loses control and drives it in the water. Superman lifts the bus and dives down deep to save a boy, his chief attacker. Later, the boy is grateful, but his mother demands to know Clark's secret. She wants to exalt him, but Jonathan Kent realizes that not everyone will. Some will want to destroy him for his power, because they're threatened by anything that's different, that they can't understand. He admonishes Clark for raising the school bus. He's warned him against this before. "What was I supposed to do?" The boy wants to know. Should he have just let the other kid die. Maybe, says Jonathan. Clark's true purpose in life may be bigger than that one life is, bigger than the Kents are. He may have to forfeit some to save them all. Now, that's actually scary logic Dad Kent is espousing. There are inherent dangers in the "greater good" approach. He doesn't want the world to find out what Superman is now, because they'd capture him and keep him from going forward to achieve his ultimate purpose. But there's an arrogance in ignoring the urgent, but every day needs of the people around you, because you feel you have a higher purpose. That is just saying the ends justify the means. That's what every madman says, from Hitler to Zod.
Clark follows his father's instructions reluctantly to the older Kent's end. They are in the car arguing and Clark throws out that "you're not my real dad. You're just some farmer that found me in a barn. I don't have to do what you say," line that all teens use eventually, when a tornado starts (it is Kansas after all). They get out of the car and run to safety in a tunnel, but then they discover they left their dog behind. Superman wants to go back for it, but Jonathan says he'll go. He needs Clark to get his mother in the tunnel. Well, Clark does. What I don't understand is why Clark has to stay there. He and Jonathan realize, I guess, that Martha won't stay put voluntarily. She'll try to run out to Jonathan, but can't Clark ask his neighbors to restrain her while he runs to help Dad and the dog? I mean, even if he didn't possess super strength, even a human boy is stronger and quicker than an old man. Once he got Martha to the tunnel, he still had plenty of time to run back (at a normal human's pace) and help, rather than just standing there idle. But stand there he does. He watches Jonathan getting hit by debris and then a car flies through the air and is about to crush him. Superman is about to race out to get him, but Jonathan puts up a yielding hand, commanding him to stay in the tunnel. Do not expose yourself, he silently orders his son. Superman obeys and watches his father die, when he could have prevented it. He screams. Um, so do I, because I could have saved Jonathan in all the time that passed. You didn't have to be Superman. You just had to be a bit smarter than he and his dad were.
I hope that little incident, which still haunts him, cured Superman of that whole "save yourself for the greater good" attitude, but I'm not sure. Anyway, one of the most fantastic moments in the movie comes when we see Jonathan Kent's gravestone and it reads 1951-1997? Are you trying to tell me that old man was only 46 years old. I guess raising an omnipotent alien prematurely ages a guy. The real Kevin Costner is actually just 58, but he looked about 10 years older in the movie and, unlike Diane Lane, I don't think his appearance was due to make up.
Anyway, despite the contrary conclusions I've drawn, the movie would have us think that Clark is quite intelligent. He spent his free time reading Plato as a boy, a stark contrast to the mouthbreathers all around him. We see him working in a bar, when one of the patrons starts harassing a waitress. Even though there are army officers in attendance, they just gawk in interest and don't do anything when the woman is manhandled. Clark (or Joe, as he is calling himself) steps in and tells the guy to knock it off. I'm not sure why the man ever would have resisted, since Joe is taller, younger and bigger than he is. Even without being Superman, you'd think his bulk would be a deterrent against bullies, but it never is. Even as a child, after the townspeople realized he had freaky strength, the local boys still teased and threw things at him, practically inviting him to kill them. In my experience, kids will beat up on those who are weaker, but that's it. If you're more powerful than they are (either physically or just socially), they back down pretty quick. In this movie, they don't. The guy in the bar punches Superman and he is literally a man of steel. His skin is hard and unyielding. Still the guy persists in his attack. Superman is about to hit back, but the waitress says, "It's not worth it, Joe." So, he gets his coat and leaves, goes on to another town and a new identity. When the brute in the bar goes outside, he finds that his truck has been hoisted up into the air and mangled. So, Superman got back at him, but non-violently. That's great, but what about the waitress in the bar? She was still being felt up against her will. Superman didn't need to use all of his strength to avenge her, but couldn't he have roughed up the assailant a bit, just to make sure his unwanted touching didn't escalate into something more in Superman's absence?
We soon find Superman working at a military compound, tasked with investigating an underwater anomaly. They've found some kind of modern equipment that was encased in ice that is 18,000 years old. They don't know what it is yet. Lois Lane shows up as a reporter. The military didn't want her there, but she went to Court and got an order forcing them to admit her, so she can report on the find. She spies Superman walking alone through her camera zoom and decides to follow him. When Superman crashed to earth as a child, the Kents found a small metal object with him. It was tubular and seemed to be topped with the letter "S." Jonathan Kent took it to be tested at a lab and was told that is comprised of a material that doesn't even show up on the Periodic table. In other words, it's not of this world. Superman is at the base to try to learn more about the mystery of his unearthly origins. I'm surprised he can gain access to the ice ship. You'd think it would be heavily guarded, but he just waltzes on up. He puts his little tubular "S" thing into the "ignition" of the mysterious craft and it opens. Suddenly Jor-El is running around talking to his son. He uploaded his conscience onto the space craft hard drive and can communicate with Ka-El from beyond the grave. I don't really understand how you back up a human mind, but it happened on Doctor Who (with River Song) too and so I guess it's a common sci fi thing. Jor-El shares their history with Ka-El and gives him the motivation needed to protect the people on his adopted planet. He gives him a uniform modeled after his own Krypton garb, complete with a symbol that looks like and "S" on the chest. It stands for "hope."
Lois Lane is following Superman and the space craft perceives her as an intruder and attacks. Superman finds her when she is bleeding and catherizes her wound with his x-ray vision. Then he disappears. Lois realizes he is an alien and writes a story about him. Her editor rejects it, but she is determined to find Superman and leaks her story on the internet, so she can get leads. Why, I don't know. He saved her life. Why can't she just leave him in peace? Ka-El (dubbed "Superman" by Lois later, when she sees the "S" on his costume) dons the suit his father gave him and learns how to harness his powers. He also cuts his hair and beard. I don't know if that's a fashion tip he got from Jor-El as well, but I think not, since Jor-El was sporting facial hair himself.
On her part, Lois begins receiving tips about a man with superhuman powers, tracks them down and is led to Clark Kent's home. She finds him at his father's grave. He tells her the story about how his father died and why it is important to keep his powers and origin a secret, because who knows how the world will react if they are exposed? Lois has a change of heart and doesn't want to reveal Superman's identity to the world any longer.
But then Zod has found the planet (led there when Superman used his key to open the old spaceship, that sent off signals that Zod's ship intercepted) and through tv and cell phones he tells the people of earth that they are not alone. He will kill them all, unless they release Ka-El to him. Based on her story that leaked on the internet, the military detains Lois Lane, hoping she can lead them to Ka-El. She doesn't talk, but Superman shows up voluntarily and surrenders. He even lets them cuff him, if that will make them feel more secure. Again, its reminiscent of Jesus surrendering himself to Pontius Pilate's men. Jesus could have saved himself, but chose not to.
To keep Zod from destroying everyone, Superman gives himself up. For reasons unknown, Zod says he wants Lois Lane too. I'm still not sure how she furthers Zod's purposes. You might think that Zod can control Superman by threatening her, but he doesn't threaten her and how would Zod know that she and Superman have a bond, already? Whatever. The military was fine with releasing Ka-El to Zod, but not one of their own. It seems like they were prepared to engage in a battle that would find them far outmatched to save her. This impresses me, since the military commanders did not like Lois and seem misogynistic. One might have expected them to let Zod take her to save everyone else, but they don't. It is Lois who voluntarily agrees to go and she and Superman are both on board Zod's ship. Turns out, Zod was released from his prison in the Phantom zone when Krypton was destroyed. Zod went around to all of Krypton's outposts around the universe and although all the Kryptonites were dead, he was able to salvage equipment from the abandoned Krypton ships and he and his crew built up their own powerful devices. They can't reproduce though, because Jor-El has stolen the genetic code, the kodex, and they need to find it if the Krypton race is to survive.
The Krypton atmosphere on Zod's ship weakens Superman. His body evolved on earth and he is no longer able to adapt to krypton air. Unconscious he hears Zod talking. Zod wants to claim Earth for himself and other Kryptonites, including Ka-El. He doesn't want to hurt him. But what will become of humans, if the Kryptonites take over. Zod doesn't want to share the planet. They will die. Superman can't let that happen. Jor-El meant for Ka-El to be a bridge between mortal and Kryptonite. He thought they could co-exist, but Zod won't let that happen. Krypton had its chance and he is not going to let Zod take over Earth and destroy everyone else's. He regains his strength and escapes from Zod's ship, but Zod just follows him and, such is their strength, that they engage in a fight that kills thousands of human and razes city skyscrapers with each blow they deal to one another.
Meanwhile, on her side of Zod's spaceship, Lois uses Superman's key to turn on the Jor-El holograph thingy. Jor-El tells her how to defeat Zod and return him to the Phantom zone prison. Lois tells the military that if they crash the space ship that brought Superman to Earth as a baby into Zod's ship, the force will create a black hole and suck Zod back into it. Seems logical, I guess. So, while Zod and Superman go mano a mano down below, the military is trying to crash into Zod's ship, manned by his merciless sidekick Faora. "Death is its own reward," she taunts her victim, but the military is able to turn the tables and throw that line back at her, when they create the black hole and eradicate her. We saw Lois Lane's pals from the Daily Planet about to die. We don't really know about them and don't care. Her boss, Perry White, was trying to rescue Jenny, an employee, stuck under debris and he orders another employee to help him. I'm not sure why White is so hung up on Jenny and when the world is imploding, hierarchy disappears. Just because you're the newspaper boss, doesn't mean you can command someone else to give up their life for your precious Jenny. So, I didn't even care about their fate, but when the Phantom Zone opens up again, they are all saved, nevertheless.
Since Zod was down on the ground at the time, he doesn't go back into the Phantom Zone with the rest of his crew. He is still on earth, battling Superman in a museum. Now, you'd think that Superman already had enough incentive to kill him given all of the carnage Zod had caused thus far. I mean, what's the alternative. It's not like you can lock Zod up in San Quentin. Zod could knock that entire structure down even if he just tripped into it accidentally. So, of course, I'm waiting for Superman to kill Zod, but Superman still needed a reason. Zod is using his x-ray vision to bore laser heat at a family and is about to incinerate them all. Superman needs to make Zod's eyes stop their murderous tracking and manages that by breaking Zod's neck, killing him. He's wracked with guilt over that. Ugh.
Superman and Lois kiss. I don't think Cavill and Adam's chemistry is good or bad, either way. Lois is enamored and says that she's heard it all goes down after the first kiss. Superman says something lame like, "that's only true with humans" which is kind of cocky and a compliment to his own kissing prowess rather than to Lois, but ok. They were going for a great punch line there, but Christopher Reeve & Margot Kidder banter it is not!
Crisis averted, Superman is going on with his life and finds that the military is tracking him. He confronts a commander and says that he knows they want to know where he hangs his cape, but they have to quit following him and using drones for surveillance (given the NSA scandal in the news, this is very realistic conduct on the government's part). The officer tells Superman that he's very powerful and how can they be sure he won't use that strength against them? You know, I get that people are basically awful, but why is it that from Superman's boyhood until now, everyone he tries to help immediately turns on him suspiciously? It happens in most super hero movies and I guess it happens in life as well. But it defies logic. When someone has just been a savior, at least let them do something untrustworthy first, before you immediately become leery. Is it more a product of resentment than mistrust? Are you jealous of what they can do, because you can't do it and want to bring them down to your level by imputing an evil motive where there's no evidence of one? If that's what human nature is, then I'm not sure Superman should have fought so hard to protect it.
Back at work at the Daily Planet, a new reporter shows up. His name is Clark Kent and Lois Lane looks mighty glad to meet him.
I didn't think this movie was the masterpiece that some make it out to be. Indeed, I even found more pathos in the last Spiderman film. Still, at a two hour and twenty minute run time, this Superman never left me restless. Perhaps he didn't soar, but he didn't bore.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Thursday, June 13, 2013
The Queen (2006)
I've just watched this movie for the first time and was to surprised to find it's such a comedy. Well, comiCAL would be more correct. Any movie based on historical events is going to take creative license with the truth, but this movie took so much license as to be libelous. It's perfectly entertaining, but as with Oliver Stone's JFK, I worry about the people who weren't there (or who were there and are just too lazy to remember) will mistakenly take the story depicted here as the true one. Common sense would tell viewers otherwise, because, of course, no one knows what went on inside of the palace but the royals, but once you weave real news footage into imagined moments, the edges blur and some begin to think they're viewing a documentary rather than a drama. Of course, there are docudramas which reenact true events and pride themselves on factual authenticity. This ain't one of them.
First of all, I don't know why it's called The Queen. As Tony Blair says, in 1997 (when this movie takes place) the Queen had reigned for 2500 weeks. Diana's funeral was just 1 week in 2500 and we hardly scrape its core. For that week, we get no deep insight into Elizabeth. In fact, she's more of a figurehead in this script than she is in the real life UK. A better title would have been Balmoral Blunder.
While charming royal retellings like The King's Speech or Mrs. Brown may be no more accurate, they are certainly less fancifal than The Queen. This film gives us Elizabeth, Philip, the Queen Mother, Charles and the boys all living in one house, sharing meals, hunting and barbecuing as a family and watching telly together in the evenings, just like the Waltons -- only crowned. It's a depiction as shallow as the public relations scandal at the center of the plot.
The movie starts with Blair's first visit with Elizabeth II after winning the election. As is befitting the head of the Labour Party, Blair is presented as down-to-earth, displaying no airs. As they are instructed on how to address Her Majesty, Blair's nervous and compliant, while his wife Cherie is derisive. The queen was given the throne as a birthright, but her husband was elected by millions. Her disdain for the monarchy is an early representation of the public's growing resentment towards the Windosors that is at the heart of this story. Only Cherie's immediately tiresome while the rest of the world only becomes so.
The Queen is painted as canny, both aware of and amused by the effect she has on others and objective. When told by her advisor that Cherie only half-curtsied grudgingly, rather than take affront Elizabeth only notes that she doesn't judge the degree of anyone's bow. She leaves that to her sister. Still, she's conscious of hierarchy and mindful of appearances, gently guiding Blair in proper protocol as he becomes familiar with his new duties.
While at Balmoral Palace, she is startled out of sleep one night by news of Diana's car accident. Initially, I don't think Queen Liz would be that shocked to be awakened in the middle of the night. This is a woman who calmly chatted up Michael Fagan, a burglar who broke into her royal chambers back in 1982. With her large family and traveling schedule (at the time), I imagine she'd hardly be ruffled by late night phone calls.
When she's told Diana's had a car accident in Paris, she's more annoyed than distraught. They hadn't even expected Diana to be in Paris, but they know what the Princess is like. Unpredictable, irresponsible. At first, the accident seems like just another unwanted headline. Elizabeth admonishes Charles for wanting to take the royal jet and incur the type of expenditures for which the royals have been chided by the public. It's not until later that they learn Diana's crash is fatal. Charles seems truly griefstricken. Philip less so. He even smiles when he observes that when he told Margaret Rose to return home from her vacation, she remarked that Diana was more trouble dead than she had been alive. Elizabeth's personal feelings about the loss are masked. She voices her concern for William and Harry "the boys" often, but from a distance, never interacting directly with them. She's not cutting to the point of cruelty as Philip and even the Queen mother are, but her placidity is meant to tell its own cold tale. She is more emotional about her tea or famous corgies than about her former daughter-in-law's demise.
Blair immediately realizes that there will be great public fallout over the tragedy and quickly issues a statement that captures public sentiment, when he calls Diana "the peoples' princess." Charles and Diana having divorced the previous year, Elizabeth does not think this is a matter that should merit her official concern, since Diana is no longer HRH. She is relieved to tell Blair that the Spencers have insisted upon a private funeral for Diana, so it's out of her hands, isn't it? It's rather absurd for him to think that its incumbent upon her to do more.
Blair, whose staff zealously monitors the unending news reports, knows that he's watching a grave misstep unfold. The public perceived Diana as a victim when she was alive blaming Charles alone for their failed marriage and any suffering Diana expressed, genuine or faked. Compared to Diana's apparent warmth, accessibility and beauty, the royals seemed aloof, outdated and out of touch. Reacting to her death, the world annointed Diana with instant sainthood and her former family could only suffer in comparison. Blair recognized that each day that passed without the royals making a public acknowledgment or appearance they were condemning themselves to mounting calumny and contempt in the eyes of their sovereigns. He navigates a thin line between showing the required deference to the queen while addressing the fact that the unprecedented world attention being given to Diana's death has made its handling a political matter, not just a social one. Commands needed to be given and, in the end, it was the PM's office telling the palace how things would be done, not the other way around.
The private funeral the Queen requested (on behalf of the Spencers, she said) is a non-starter. There will be a public memorial in Westminister Abbey. World leaders and celebrities alike will attend. In fact, they will use the advance plans they had for the Queen Mother's funeral and, with minor modifications, use it for Diana's instead. The royals are aghast. But it's out of Elizabeth's hands. They've gone over her head and there's nothing she can do but graciously concede on official matters, but surely not the personal ones as well. If not queen of the United Kingdom isn't she still master of her own domain? She refuses Blair's suggestion that they lower the flags on the royal residences (which are supposed to denote whether or not the queen is in residence, not be used as a display of regal mourning), return to Buckingham Palace from Balmoral and issue a public statement. She's got grandsons to attend to and hasn't time to cater to the selfish world's media-frenzied demands, wherein lies my problem: with this movie and with life.
From what we've seen, Elizabeth is just paying lip service to her family's need to heal privately, to disguise her dispassion. But what if that weren't the case? What if she really was sympathetic to Harry and William's real pain and didn't want to put their sorrow on parade? What if she believed, as Charles Spencer himself said, that public mania contributed to Diana's death and the royals wanted her funeral to be an end to the lurid fascination with the Princess, not a continuation of it? What if she didn't want to reward the paparazzi that chased Diana's car through that Paris tunnel with more pictures, magazine sales and undeserved profits? What if she simply wanted to stop feeding the vultures? What gave the public the right to tell Diana's family they couldn't finally have her to themselves? As important, why do people insist on insincere overtures. What do those satisfy. If they're right and Elizabeth hated Diana, why want her to give a public statement expressing grief she doesn't feel? Just so you can say it's phony? After every scandal, the world inevitably clamors for an apology from the wrongdoer and I always wonder why. What good is a an "I'm sorry," from someone who doesn't mean it? Isn't standing on empty ceremony one of the things that detractors criticize about the monarchy, in general?
For the sake of argument, lets assume the Queen didn't lie. She said she wanted to eschew an ostentatious funeral out of respect for Diana, not the opposite. She didn't want Britain to make a spectacle of the tragedy. Let's accept her concerns as earnest ones. If Elizabeth's protestations were genuine, then Blair's were wrong. Our society is more voyeuristic today than it was then. We judge dancing, singing, survivor skills, marriage proposals and tragedy. Is the victim crying enough or too much? Reality tv has combined with social media to convince us that if you don't wear your heart on your sleeve, you don't have one. Pics or it didn't happen. We need public validation of everything we think and feel. If that means throwing unwilling gold fish into a bowl so we can stare at them, so be it. This mentality is an undeniable trend, but not an unobjectionable one.
If Elizabeth and the royals wanted to resist it and maintain their stoicism in the face of devastation as they did earlier in Elizabeth's life, like when Edward VIII abdicated the throne or the British and Germans battled over the White Cliffs of Dover, then they had that right. When the tabloids demanded a performance from them, refusing would have been the harder road, but also the highest. The citizenry can demand to know how many of their taxes dollars are spent on maintaining the monarchy. They can their involvement in government. But what right have they to dictate the royals' interaction with each other? The queen's treatment of Diana is not a matter of public concern. The people could set up their own local memorials and shrines to Diana, without insisting that her ex-family do it for them. It was more important that Diana's funeral fulfill Harry and William's need than those of Diana's fans. If the monarchy resisted an exploitation of the tragedy as a matter of honesty, not hypocrisy, then right was on their side.
Of course, the movie says it wasn't. The Windsors just plain hated Diana's guts and chose not to observe her death with grand gestures, because they didn't think she deserved them. Although early scenes suggested that Charles was an exception to this rule, the story later reveals that he was only pretending to mourn his ex to gain public sympathy. Diana had foisted blame on him for years and he saw her death as an opportunity for redemption. Playing an Oedipal game of Mutt & Jeff, by having it leak that he sided with Blair, Charles hoped to shift resentment for Diana's mistreatment to his mother and away from himself. Screenwriter Peter Morgan is a Brit and, I suppose, has seen a lot more of Charles than I have, but I don't understand how he could make him such an ingratiating toadie. Charles has displayed many unlikable traits over the years, but I've never perceived him as sniveling. His problem was always that he cared too little for public opinion, when did he ever grovel for it? He's been more conciliatory in the last ten years of his life than he ever was in the first 55. As far as Princes of Wales go, the man in the film more closely resembled Bertie than Charles. This film has him lowering the flag at his residence, as a rebuke of his mother's decision not to lower hers. In truth, the family as a whole probably assumed that a lowered flag at Kensington could represent their collective homage to its departed mistress. One waved at half mast for all of them. I'd view it as a gracious gesture rather than conniving, but it's not my job to ratchet up the drama.
Westminister Abbey funeral plans in motion, the Queen stays in Balmoral where Philip is trying to keep William and Harry distracted with long walks and hunting. They've heard there's a large stag on the grounds, a 14-pointer the type that hasn't been glimpsed on their land in decades. Having desserted Charles when he begins to lament Diana as a wonderful mother, in silent comparison to his own icy one (none of us can forget the newsreel footage of Elizabeth reuniting with her son -- barely more than a toddler -- after an absence by shaking his hand), Elizabeth is now driving alone when her car breaks down. She calls the groundskeeper and diagnoses the problem. After all, she was a mechanic during the war and she knows her stuff! She waits for a ride with ever practical, calm at first. But soon we see tears drop. Is she crying for herself or Diana or for other things lost, long before?
Turning, she spots the majestic grand stag in the distance. He freezes in a picturesque moment and she is awestruck. She hears a gun in the distance and shoos him away. She knows that Philip has the boys hunting the stag, but she wants/needs for him not to be caught. He's a relic. Once common, but now so rare. She wants to preserve this magnificent creature and everything he stands for, because it's everything she stands for.
Back at the palace, Tony Blair telephones and Elizabeth takes the call in the kitchen, after politely asking the staff's permission. Blair tells her that public opinion is against her. 1 in 4 people want to do away with the monarchy. Elizabeth is shaken by this news, but doesn't let Blair know. The tabloids are whipping the public into a hysteria and she won't be swept up into it. Meanwhile, I'm thinking to myself "1 in 4? That means she has a 75% approval rating. What's so bad about that? Obama would kill for those figures. Why so down, Queenie?" Though disheartened, Elizabeth holds her ground, won't lower the flag, won't give a public statement, won't leave Balmoral to go to Buckingham Palace.
Blair fighting to control his temper, accepts her stubborn stance, but when she hangs up, her advisor picks up the phone. He's been listening all along (is this kosher? I know that both Blair and the royals constantly have people speaking for them, but listening in on their calls without notice as well?). He tells Blair he should be patient with Elizabeth since this is the worst thing she has been through since her uncle abdicated the throne, an act which (legend has it) killed her father prematurely, when he had to take the throne in his brother's place heading right into WWII. The advisor tells Blair that Elizabeth never got over this trauma, which softens Blairs view of her. Well, ok ... but I'm not sure how Elizabeth being mad at Uncle Eddie 60 years earlier is related to her impassive attitude about Di's death in 1997. I mean, did Liz use to be a passionate, playful lass until Wallis Simpson's fatal attraction taught her how to repress her feelings from then on? Did they handle that past scandal in a way that has informed her life ever since? Possibly, but since the similarities aren't obvious, I wish this advisor would have spelled them out more clearly. I mean, he proved himself a buttinski already. He could at least be one with helpful details.
Elizabeth makes up "Mummy" to see if the Queen Mother thinks she's taking the right path. She does. Cherie's foil, the Queen Mother feels that Blair was merely elected, but the Queen holds her position through a higher power and should not let transient public pressure sway her. She owes it to everyone to maintain tradition, rather than cave in to what's popular. The haughty Philip thinks opposing viewpoints are unworthy of discussion and is upset that his wife's tea has cooled, during all of the annoying Diana talk. He speaks of homosexuals and zulus and is more cartoon than consort.
Though Philip has no patience for them (leaving the marital bed that they are humorously sharing, when she won't turn off the tv, Elizabeth can't tear herself away from the media reports. The people weeping on the streets tell reporters that the royals misjudged them. They made a terrible mistake. They abused Diana both in life and in death and they have blood on their hands. Elizabeth can take no more and decides that they're going back to Buckingham Palace. Philip is surprised and chagrined, but it will give him a chance to find a new stag for the boys to hunt, since the other 14-pointer was killed. What! When? A hunter on neighboring property shot the stag.
Telling no one, Elizabeth goes to see the great deer. He's strung up in a slaugther room, hanging from his haunches. His head has been cut off, so that the antlers can be mounted on someone's wall. So noble in life, now an ornament. A trophy. Death the great equalizer, but life levels us too. The deer, meant to be a treat for the princes, was felled by an outsider, a guest on someone else's property took this undeserved prize for his own. It wasn't even a clean shot. The stag was wounded first, before he was killed. Elizabeth hopes he didn't suffer.
Back in England, Blair was frustrated by the Queen, but now his own staff is more taxing. His approval rating is up, but he finds no cause to rejoice. When Cherie wonders what is wrong, he says that he's growing tired of having the royals bullied. With an eyeroll, Cherie comments that he's falling in love with the Queen. Why is it that all the prime ministers do? As his assistant gloats that Blair's office has made all the right moves, while the monarchy continues to falter, Blair finally has had enough. Stamping out of the room, he rails that Elizabeth is being skewered because of the death of a woman who only threw everything the queen had ever done for her back in the queen's face and spent the last years of her life on a 24/7 crusade to ruin the "establishment" that the Queen had spent her whole life building.
I applaud Blair's outbust as the highlight of the movie, but it seemed to come from nowhere. Other than the queen's advisor reminding him of King Albert's early death, I'm not sure what has happened to turn Blair's allegiance to the queen. Maybe he was never against her, but he hadn't been against Diana either. From whence did his anger towards the deceased suddenly spring? Based on memory, I agree with his assessment of Lady Spencer, but aside from some unsubstantiated complaints about her manipulations from Charles, nothing in the movie has laid the foundation for Blair's words. Diana was a great humanitarian. She was known for great kindness to her schoolchildren, long before she became princess. But the power of celebrity made her petulant and calculating, giving her leverage over her in-laws that their 1500 years of lineage could not match. Of course, she was pushed into the public spotlight so early that she never had the chance or freedom to grow into a healthy, balanced adult. Maybe time would have changed that. That's a story for another movie. This one doesn't explain to us why Tony Blair saw her as he did. If it was an opinion that evolved, it did so offscreen. If it's one that he harbored all along, why didn't they let us know about it earlier, during one of his private exchanges with Cherie?
We don't see Blair and The Queen together except in the movie's opening and closing scenes. The bond they develop is strong, but distant, based on respect and understanding, rather than intimacy, so the script keeps them apart for symbolic reasons. But if we aren't going to watch that man interact with her, show his royal metamorphosis through other means. Give the guy his own stag!
Tony's sitting around his office feeling embittered when suddenly he looks up and sees the Queen on tv. She's back at Buckingham Palace, looking at the flowers people have left for Diana. She's had a pile of them brought inside the gates, so she can see them herself. She's even talking to those who have gathered outside. Reading their cards, with Charles, Philip, Harry and William beside her. The flag is being lowered too. She's doing everything that Blair asked.
But this is not all about appearances. When the Queen actually reads the accusations against her family in some of the sympathy cards left for Diana she is taken aback, but resigned. A little girl has flowers and the queen offers to put them on the pile with the others, but the girl withdraws her hand. The queen is stung, but not surprised. Not anymore. This is what she has come to expect from her subjects over the last harrowing days. But then the girl explains, these flowers are for the Queen, not for Diana. Elizabeth takes them with a rush of graditude. And more.
There was one poignant moment in real life that is not captured on film, when Diana's casket passed the palace. Would they or wouldn't they? The world waited with bated breath and, yes, the Queen, her mother, sister and daughter bowed their heads in respect. That was the subject of much comment at the time, but not included here.
As she prepares a public speech about Diana, she sends a draft over to Blair's office. They mock it's removed tone. When Blair calls to offer revisions which will make the Queen's message warmer, Elizabeth writes them in without hesitation. Where once she resisted and resented his suggestions, now she follows them without pause. But is it a sign of trust or defeat?
At the funeral, Charles Spencer gives an arrogant eulogy that I despised then as I do now. I would think that his sister's funeral would not be the place to air such hostilities, but his vindictiveness is cheered by many and would probably have been sanctioned by Diana. He says that it was a blessing that his sister was taken while she was still beautiful and radiant. I suppose if she'd lived a long life and gained wisdom, along with wrinkles that would have been the real tragedy. Better dead than ugly. Maybe that's the motto Frances Shand Kydd handed down to her brood.
The funeral ends, the summer commences and as fall comes, Blair arrives at Buckingham Palace to visit the queen once more. At first they speak of her recent travels, the admiration she's won for her diplomacy overseas. But then small talk can no longer cover the elephant in the room. He praises her handling of the funeral and says he was impressed by her humility. Oh no, he is confusing humility with humiliation, she counters. He denies it. Did 1 in 4 people really want her gone she asks with quiet wonder. For that week he says. That was one week and she's reigned for 2500. Those few days won't be remembered when her legacy as a whole is considered. And, of course, he's right.
The awkward moment passes as she invites him for a walk on the grounds. They put Diana behind them and discuss matters of state. She's the one who's supposed to be advising him, not the other way around, the Queen teases.
First of all, I don't know why it's called The Queen. As Tony Blair says, in 1997 (when this movie takes place) the Queen had reigned for 2500 weeks. Diana's funeral was just 1 week in 2500 and we hardly scrape its core. For that week, we get no deep insight into Elizabeth. In fact, she's more of a figurehead in this script than she is in the real life UK. A better title would have been Balmoral Blunder.
While charming royal retellings like The King's Speech or Mrs. Brown may be no more accurate, they are certainly less fancifal than The Queen. This film gives us Elizabeth, Philip, the Queen Mother, Charles and the boys all living in one house, sharing meals, hunting and barbecuing as a family and watching telly together in the evenings, just like the Waltons -- only crowned. It's a depiction as shallow as the public relations scandal at the center of the plot.
The movie starts with Blair's first visit with Elizabeth II after winning the election. As is befitting the head of the Labour Party, Blair is presented as down-to-earth, displaying no airs. As they are instructed on how to address Her Majesty, Blair's nervous and compliant, while his wife Cherie is derisive. The queen was given the throne as a birthright, but her husband was elected by millions. Her disdain for the monarchy is an early representation of the public's growing resentment towards the Windosors that is at the heart of this story. Only Cherie's immediately tiresome while the rest of the world only becomes so.
The Queen is painted as canny, both aware of and amused by the effect she has on others and objective. When told by her advisor that Cherie only half-curtsied grudgingly, rather than take affront Elizabeth only notes that she doesn't judge the degree of anyone's bow. She leaves that to her sister. Still, she's conscious of hierarchy and mindful of appearances, gently guiding Blair in proper protocol as he becomes familiar with his new duties.
While at Balmoral Palace, she is startled out of sleep one night by news of Diana's car accident. Initially, I don't think Queen Liz would be that shocked to be awakened in the middle of the night. This is a woman who calmly chatted up Michael Fagan, a burglar who broke into her royal chambers back in 1982. With her large family and traveling schedule (at the time), I imagine she'd hardly be ruffled by late night phone calls.
When she's told Diana's had a car accident in Paris, she's more annoyed than distraught. They hadn't even expected Diana to be in Paris, but they know what the Princess is like. Unpredictable, irresponsible. At first, the accident seems like just another unwanted headline. Elizabeth admonishes Charles for wanting to take the royal jet and incur the type of expenditures for which the royals have been chided by the public. It's not until later that they learn Diana's crash is fatal. Charles seems truly griefstricken. Philip less so. He even smiles when he observes that when he told Margaret Rose to return home from her vacation, she remarked that Diana was more trouble dead than she had been alive. Elizabeth's personal feelings about the loss are masked. She voices her concern for William and Harry "the boys" often, but from a distance, never interacting directly with them. She's not cutting to the point of cruelty as Philip and even the Queen mother are, but her placidity is meant to tell its own cold tale. She is more emotional about her tea or famous corgies than about her former daughter-in-law's demise.
Blair immediately realizes that there will be great public fallout over the tragedy and quickly issues a statement that captures public sentiment, when he calls Diana "the peoples' princess." Charles and Diana having divorced the previous year, Elizabeth does not think this is a matter that should merit her official concern, since Diana is no longer HRH. She is relieved to tell Blair that the Spencers have insisted upon a private funeral for Diana, so it's out of her hands, isn't it? It's rather absurd for him to think that its incumbent upon her to do more.
Blair, whose staff zealously monitors the unending news reports, knows that he's watching a grave misstep unfold. The public perceived Diana as a victim when she was alive blaming Charles alone for their failed marriage and any suffering Diana expressed, genuine or faked. Compared to Diana's apparent warmth, accessibility and beauty, the royals seemed aloof, outdated and out of touch. Reacting to her death, the world annointed Diana with instant sainthood and her former family could only suffer in comparison. Blair recognized that each day that passed without the royals making a public acknowledgment or appearance they were condemning themselves to mounting calumny and contempt in the eyes of their sovereigns. He navigates a thin line between showing the required deference to the queen while addressing the fact that the unprecedented world attention being given to Diana's death has made its handling a political matter, not just a social one. Commands needed to be given and, in the end, it was the PM's office telling the palace how things would be done, not the other way around.
The private funeral the Queen requested (on behalf of the Spencers, she said) is a non-starter. There will be a public memorial in Westminister Abbey. World leaders and celebrities alike will attend. In fact, they will use the advance plans they had for the Queen Mother's funeral and, with minor modifications, use it for Diana's instead. The royals are aghast. But it's out of Elizabeth's hands. They've gone over her head and there's nothing she can do but graciously concede on official matters, but surely not the personal ones as well. If not queen of the United Kingdom isn't she still master of her own domain? She refuses Blair's suggestion that they lower the flags on the royal residences (which are supposed to denote whether or not the queen is in residence, not be used as a display of regal mourning), return to Buckingham Palace from Balmoral and issue a public statement. She's got grandsons to attend to and hasn't time to cater to the selfish world's media-frenzied demands, wherein lies my problem: with this movie and with life.
From what we've seen, Elizabeth is just paying lip service to her family's need to heal privately, to disguise her dispassion. But what if that weren't the case? What if she really was sympathetic to Harry and William's real pain and didn't want to put their sorrow on parade? What if she believed, as Charles Spencer himself said, that public mania contributed to Diana's death and the royals wanted her funeral to be an end to the lurid fascination with the Princess, not a continuation of it? What if she didn't want to reward the paparazzi that chased Diana's car through that Paris tunnel with more pictures, magazine sales and undeserved profits? What if she simply wanted to stop feeding the vultures? What gave the public the right to tell Diana's family they couldn't finally have her to themselves? As important, why do people insist on insincere overtures. What do those satisfy. If they're right and Elizabeth hated Diana, why want her to give a public statement expressing grief she doesn't feel? Just so you can say it's phony? After every scandal, the world inevitably clamors for an apology from the wrongdoer and I always wonder why. What good is a an "I'm sorry," from someone who doesn't mean it? Isn't standing on empty ceremony one of the things that detractors criticize about the monarchy, in general?
For the sake of argument, lets assume the Queen didn't lie. She said she wanted to eschew an ostentatious funeral out of respect for Diana, not the opposite. She didn't want Britain to make a spectacle of the tragedy. Let's accept her concerns as earnest ones. If Elizabeth's protestations were genuine, then Blair's were wrong. Our society is more voyeuristic today than it was then. We judge dancing, singing, survivor skills, marriage proposals and tragedy. Is the victim crying enough or too much? Reality tv has combined with social media to convince us that if you don't wear your heart on your sleeve, you don't have one. Pics or it didn't happen. We need public validation of everything we think and feel. If that means throwing unwilling gold fish into a bowl so we can stare at them, so be it. This mentality is an undeniable trend, but not an unobjectionable one.
If Elizabeth and the royals wanted to resist it and maintain their stoicism in the face of devastation as they did earlier in Elizabeth's life, like when Edward VIII abdicated the throne or the British and Germans battled over the White Cliffs of Dover, then they had that right. When the tabloids demanded a performance from them, refusing would have been the harder road, but also the highest. The citizenry can demand to know how many of their taxes dollars are spent on maintaining the monarchy. They can their involvement in government. But what right have they to dictate the royals' interaction with each other? The queen's treatment of Diana is not a matter of public concern. The people could set up their own local memorials and shrines to Diana, without insisting that her ex-family do it for them. It was more important that Diana's funeral fulfill Harry and William's need than those of Diana's fans. If the monarchy resisted an exploitation of the tragedy as a matter of honesty, not hypocrisy, then right was on their side.
Of course, the movie says it wasn't. The Windsors just plain hated Diana's guts and chose not to observe her death with grand gestures, because they didn't think she deserved them. Although early scenes suggested that Charles was an exception to this rule, the story later reveals that he was only pretending to mourn his ex to gain public sympathy. Diana had foisted blame on him for years and he saw her death as an opportunity for redemption. Playing an Oedipal game of Mutt & Jeff, by having it leak that he sided with Blair, Charles hoped to shift resentment for Diana's mistreatment to his mother and away from himself. Screenwriter Peter Morgan is a Brit and, I suppose, has seen a lot more of Charles than I have, but I don't understand how he could make him such an ingratiating toadie. Charles has displayed many unlikable traits over the years, but I've never perceived him as sniveling. His problem was always that he cared too little for public opinion, when did he ever grovel for it? He's been more conciliatory in the last ten years of his life than he ever was in the first 55. As far as Princes of Wales go, the man in the film more closely resembled Bertie than Charles. This film has him lowering the flag at his residence, as a rebuke of his mother's decision not to lower hers. In truth, the family as a whole probably assumed that a lowered flag at Kensington could represent their collective homage to its departed mistress. One waved at half mast for all of them. I'd view it as a gracious gesture rather than conniving, but it's not my job to ratchet up the drama.
Westminister Abbey funeral plans in motion, the Queen stays in Balmoral where Philip is trying to keep William and Harry distracted with long walks and hunting. They've heard there's a large stag on the grounds, a 14-pointer the type that hasn't been glimpsed on their land in decades. Having desserted Charles when he begins to lament Diana as a wonderful mother, in silent comparison to his own icy one (none of us can forget the newsreel footage of Elizabeth reuniting with her son -- barely more than a toddler -- after an absence by shaking his hand), Elizabeth is now driving alone when her car breaks down. She calls the groundskeeper and diagnoses the problem. After all, she was a mechanic during the war and she knows her stuff! She waits for a ride with ever practical, calm at first. But soon we see tears drop. Is she crying for herself or Diana or for other things lost, long before?
Turning, she spots the majestic grand stag in the distance. He freezes in a picturesque moment and she is awestruck. She hears a gun in the distance and shoos him away. She knows that Philip has the boys hunting the stag, but she wants/needs for him not to be caught. He's a relic. Once common, but now so rare. She wants to preserve this magnificent creature and everything he stands for, because it's everything she stands for.
Back at the palace, Tony Blair telephones and Elizabeth takes the call in the kitchen, after politely asking the staff's permission. Blair tells her that public opinion is against her. 1 in 4 people want to do away with the monarchy. Elizabeth is shaken by this news, but doesn't let Blair know. The tabloids are whipping the public into a hysteria and she won't be swept up into it. Meanwhile, I'm thinking to myself "1 in 4? That means she has a 75% approval rating. What's so bad about that? Obama would kill for those figures. Why so down, Queenie?" Though disheartened, Elizabeth holds her ground, won't lower the flag, won't give a public statement, won't leave Balmoral to go to Buckingham Palace.
Blair fighting to control his temper, accepts her stubborn stance, but when she hangs up, her advisor picks up the phone. He's been listening all along (is this kosher? I know that both Blair and the royals constantly have people speaking for them, but listening in on their calls without notice as well?). He tells Blair he should be patient with Elizabeth since this is the worst thing she has been through since her uncle abdicated the throne, an act which (legend has it) killed her father prematurely, when he had to take the throne in his brother's place heading right into WWII. The advisor tells Blair that Elizabeth never got over this trauma, which softens Blairs view of her. Well, ok ... but I'm not sure how Elizabeth being mad at Uncle Eddie 60 years earlier is related to her impassive attitude about Di's death in 1997. I mean, did Liz use to be a passionate, playful lass until Wallis Simpson's fatal attraction taught her how to repress her feelings from then on? Did they handle that past scandal in a way that has informed her life ever since? Possibly, but since the similarities aren't obvious, I wish this advisor would have spelled them out more clearly. I mean, he proved himself a buttinski already. He could at least be one with helpful details.
Elizabeth makes up "Mummy" to see if the Queen Mother thinks she's taking the right path. She does. Cherie's foil, the Queen Mother feels that Blair was merely elected, but the Queen holds her position through a higher power and should not let transient public pressure sway her. She owes it to everyone to maintain tradition, rather than cave in to what's popular. The haughty Philip thinks opposing viewpoints are unworthy of discussion and is upset that his wife's tea has cooled, during all of the annoying Diana talk. He speaks of homosexuals and zulus and is more cartoon than consort.
Though Philip has no patience for them (leaving the marital bed that they are humorously sharing, when she won't turn off the tv, Elizabeth can't tear herself away from the media reports. The people weeping on the streets tell reporters that the royals misjudged them. They made a terrible mistake. They abused Diana both in life and in death and they have blood on their hands. Elizabeth can take no more and decides that they're going back to Buckingham Palace. Philip is surprised and chagrined, but it will give him a chance to find a new stag for the boys to hunt, since the other 14-pointer was killed. What! When? A hunter on neighboring property shot the stag.
Telling no one, Elizabeth goes to see the great deer. He's strung up in a slaugther room, hanging from his haunches. His head has been cut off, so that the antlers can be mounted on someone's wall. So noble in life, now an ornament. A trophy. Death the great equalizer, but life levels us too. The deer, meant to be a treat for the princes, was felled by an outsider, a guest on someone else's property took this undeserved prize for his own. It wasn't even a clean shot. The stag was wounded first, before he was killed. Elizabeth hopes he didn't suffer.
Back in England, Blair was frustrated by the Queen, but now his own staff is more taxing. His approval rating is up, but he finds no cause to rejoice. When Cherie wonders what is wrong, he says that he's growing tired of having the royals bullied. With an eyeroll, Cherie comments that he's falling in love with the Queen. Why is it that all the prime ministers do? As his assistant gloats that Blair's office has made all the right moves, while the monarchy continues to falter, Blair finally has had enough. Stamping out of the room, he rails that Elizabeth is being skewered because of the death of a woman who only threw everything the queen had ever done for her back in the queen's face and spent the last years of her life on a 24/7 crusade to ruin the "establishment" that the Queen had spent her whole life building.
I applaud Blair's outbust as the highlight of the movie, but it seemed to come from nowhere. Other than the queen's advisor reminding him of King Albert's early death, I'm not sure what has happened to turn Blair's allegiance to the queen. Maybe he was never against her, but he hadn't been against Diana either. From whence did his anger towards the deceased suddenly spring? Based on memory, I agree with his assessment of Lady Spencer, but aside from some unsubstantiated complaints about her manipulations from Charles, nothing in the movie has laid the foundation for Blair's words. Diana was a great humanitarian. She was known for great kindness to her schoolchildren, long before she became princess. But the power of celebrity made her petulant and calculating, giving her leverage over her in-laws that their 1500 years of lineage could not match. Of course, she was pushed into the public spotlight so early that she never had the chance or freedom to grow into a healthy, balanced adult. Maybe time would have changed that. That's a story for another movie. This one doesn't explain to us why Tony Blair saw her as he did. If it was an opinion that evolved, it did so offscreen. If it's one that he harbored all along, why didn't they let us know about it earlier, during one of his private exchanges with Cherie?
We don't see Blair and The Queen together except in the movie's opening and closing scenes. The bond they develop is strong, but distant, based on respect and understanding, rather than intimacy, so the script keeps them apart for symbolic reasons. But if we aren't going to watch that man interact with her, show his royal metamorphosis through other means. Give the guy his own stag!
Tony's sitting around his office feeling embittered when suddenly he looks up and sees the Queen on tv. She's back at Buckingham Palace, looking at the flowers people have left for Diana. She's had a pile of them brought inside the gates, so she can see them herself. She's even talking to those who have gathered outside. Reading their cards, with Charles, Philip, Harry and William beside her. The flag is being lowered too. She's doing everything that Blair asked.
But this is not all about appearances. When the Queen actually reads the accusations against her family in some of the sympathy cards left for Diana she is taken aback, but resigned. A little girl has flowers and the queen offers to put them on the pile with the others, but the girl withdraws her hand. The queen is stung, but not surprised. Not anymore. This is what she has come to expect from her subjects over the last harrowing days. But then the girl explains, these flowers are for the Queen, not for Diana. Elizabeth takes them with a rush of graditude. And more.
There was one poignant moment in real life that is not captured on film, when Diana's casket passed the palace. Would they or wouldn't they? The world waited with bated breath and, yes, the Queen, her mother, sister and daughter bowed their heads in respect. That was the subject of much comment at the time, but not included here.
As she prepares a public speech about Diana, she sends a draft over to Blair's office. They mock it's removed tone. When Blair calls to offer revisions which will make the Queen's message warmer, Elizabeth writes them in without hesitation. Where once she resisted and resented his suggestions, now she follows them without pause. But is it a sign of trust or defeat?
At the funeral, Charles Spencer gives an arrogant eulogy that I despised then as I do now. I would think that his sister's funeral would not be the place to air such hostilities, but his vindictiveness is cheered by many and would probably have been sanctioned by Diana. He says that it was a blessing that his sister was taken while she was still beautiful and radiant. I suppose if she'd lived a long life and gained wisdom, along with wrinkles that would have been the real tragedy. Better dead than ugly. Maybe that's the motto Frances Shand Kydd handed down to her brood.
The funeral ends, the summer commences and as fall comes, Blair arrives at Buckingham Palace to visit the queen once more. At first they speak of her recent travels, the admiration she's won for her diplomacy overseas. But then small talk can no longer cover the elephant in the room. He praises her handling of the funeral and says he was impressed by her humility. Oh no, he is confusing humility with humiliation, she counters. He denies it. Did 1 in 4 people really want her gone she asks with quiet wonder. For that week he says. That was one week and she's reigned for 2500. Those few days won't be remembered when her legacy as a whole is considered. And, of course, he's right.
The awkward moment passes as she invites him for a walk on the grounds. They put Diana behind them and discuss matters of state. She's the one who's supposed to be advising him, not the other way around, the Queen teases.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Star Trek Into Darkness
Before seeing this movie, I read a tweet hoping that younger viewers would see 1982's Wrath of Khan before watching the latest prequel in the Star Trek series. Well, since, chronologically, that movie happens later in the lives of the Enterprise crew, I don't think that's necessary. Maybe fans should watch it after Into Darkness instead. However, I could have used stood to see 2009's Star Trek as a refresher course myself. I have almost no memory of J.J. Abrams first Trek venture or the relationships he created there.
While I was never a focused Trek fan, after decades of tv reruns syndicated all over, I am well grounded in the core series' relationships between Spock, McCoy and Kirk and can even appreciate variations on the original bonds (i.e. Spock and Uhura's romance), but I'd already forgotten about Kirk's dad and his mentor Pike. So, there was angst there that I couldn't fully appreciate.
The movie starts with the Enterprise on a observatory mission to a primitive civilization. They're supposed to look at how the natives live, not interfere, not allow allow themselves to be seen. They soon learn that a volcano is about to erupt which will destroy all life on the planet. With Kirk already on the ground, it's up to Spock to disable the volcano. A nervous Uhura helps him dress for the journey and kisses his helmet goodbye.
He enters its fiery mouth to do so and soon learns that in order to save the people, he'll have to sacrifice his own life. He's willing to do that. When Kirk discovers that Spock is willing to incinerate himself to stop the deadly volcano, he commands him to return to the ship. Spock refuses and limits communication with them, ready to face his death alone, to Uhura's hurt and chagrin. Kirk races to find a way to save Spock's life, though the Vulcan himself seems disinterested in that cause and cautions Kirk that he should not break the rules to rescue a friend. They should be more interested in the good of the many. Frustrated, Kirk asks his crew what Spock would do if their positions were reversed. "He'd let you die," is the answer. Kirk acknowledges the truth in this, but nevertheless raises his spaceship where it has been hidden on the bottom of the ocean floor to get Spock back safely and exposes the Enterprise to the natives (who are awestruck and immediately begin painting likenesses of the alien aircraft), forever changing the course of their development -- as they had just barely discovered fire and ruining the purpose of the mission.
Narrowly escaping that close call, back at home Kirk has been called in to see Pike and thinks that he's about to get a promotion. He finds, instead, that Spock has advised their supervisors of their crew's rule violations, unbeknownst to Kirk. Kirk reminds Spock that he risked everything to save Spock's life and he expected him to keep quiet about it. Spock reminds him that Vulcans cannot lie. Kirk counters that he's only 50% Vulcan and Kirk is trying to appeal to Spock's human side for a change. He wants him to act like a friend, not just an officer.
Pike demotes Kirk for taking unnecessary risks. Yes, Kirk is good, but that has only made him arrogant. He thinks he's invincible and is too reckless to remain a captain. They're taking the Enterprise away from him and returning it to Pike. Spock is being assigned to another ship. Kirk is despondent. Despite the fact that he's infuriated with Spock, he bids him a fond adieu and says that he will miss him. Spock is non-responsive, further maddening Kirk.
He heads out to get drunk. Pike finds him and tells him that he has selected Kirk to be his second-in-command, a show of faith that means more to Kirk on a personal level than his demotion does on a professional one.
Meanwhile, a couple keeps vigil over their dying daughter. A mysterious officer, John Harrison, offers the father a cure, giving the man a vial of blood with which to inject the girl, but it comes with a price. The father fills the girls IV with the vial's contents and watches her heartrate rise immediately. If I were him, I'd at least wait until she regained consciousness, before keeping my end of the deal, but this dad races off to do his evil benefactor's bidding immediately. He blows up one of the government's archive compounds. Hearing of the news at the bar, Pike and Kirk rush off to a special emergency meeting of commanders and first officers.
At the meeting, although he's no longer a captain, Kirk still thinks like one. There was nothing important in that archive. Why destroy it, unless the true purpose was to cause a gathering of all the military leaders, just like the one they're having, now --- just as Kirk is hesitantly putting this thought together they are fired upon by Harrison who, hovers outside in a helicopter, heavily armed. He levels a rainstorm of havoc on them, before escaping.
As they scramble around in the debris, Spock comes upon the wounded Pike. He mind melds with him, as Pike dies. Coming upon them, Kirk is devastated.
They learn that Harrison has fled to Klingon territory, where he presumably thinks he cannot be followed, since it would lead to World War if the U.S. invades Klingon land. Kirk wants to go after Harrison and begs for permission to do so. Commander Wallace says that there cannot be any more casualties, because (1) Kirk has caused enough damage and, (2) just as Pike brought Kirk into service, Wallace is the one who enlisted and mentored Pike. Wallace owes it to Pike to keep Kirk safe. So, he'll only let Kirk go after Harrison, one of their own rogue officers, if Kirk locates then torpedoes and kills him immediately, without the Klingons ever knowing he was there. That's the only way to avoid war. Kirk readily agrees. He asks to be returned to command of the Enterprise and to have Spock reinstated as his first officer. Wallace agrees.
When Spock hears the news, rather than rejoicing that he and Kirk have been reunited, he warns Kirk that it's against martial law for them to kill come upon Harrison and kill him without warning, without giving him a fair trial. Kirk says it's their orders. Spock insists that it's morally wrong. Impatiently, Kirk says that the last time Kirk did what was morally right, saving Spock's life, after Spock saved a primitive planet, Spock ratted him out and opted to follow the rules, instead. So, Spock is not in a position to tell Kirk when to defy orders, when he's such a stickler for them himself.
As they prepare to return to the Enterprise, Carol, a science officer tells Kirk she's also been assigned to the ship. Kirk didn't order a new science officer and Spock feels it would hardly have been necessary for him to do so, since Spock is there himself. However, since Carol is attractive, Kirk is not in the mood to question why she is there. This attitude seems especially foolhardy since they've all just been attacked from within. If Harrison turned on his own government, who's to say this mysterious science officer can be trusted? She simply tells Kirk that she was assigned to him by Wallace (which turns out not to have been true) and he doesn't even ask to see the paperwork, much less perform a background check.
Back at the ship, Scotty refuses to let them load the torpedoes. He reminds Kirk that it's their job to seek out new lives, not to take them. The Enterprise is not supposed to be a warship. Kirk insists that Scotty just sign off on the torpedoes. Scotty resigns, rather than do so and, to his surprise, Kirk accepts the resignation. Oh, I've felt the shock displayed on Scotty's countenance myself, when you think the boss can't bear to lose you and, with kneejerk speed, will promise anything necessary to keep you from quitting. Then, he doesn't. Abashed and stunned, Scotty leaves his beloved aircraft, Kirk and an overwhelmed and unprepared Checkov behind.
Reeling himself, Kirk feels besieged from all sides and feels the guilt he's been trying to deny. When he runs into Uhura on the elevator, he complains that her "boyfriend" is impossible. He quickly apologizes for this lack of professionalism, but once she regains her composures she tells Kirk it's not just him. What? Are she and Kirk having trouble? Kirk's curiousity is almost gleeful. Uhura says she prefers not to talk about it, as the elevator doors open and a bemused Spock stand before them. "Ears burning?" Kirk taunts him.
Once they get to Harrison's hide out, Kirk's conscience has won out. He's not going to sneak up and kill Harrison, no matter what he's done. He's going to take him back to the U.S. to stand trial. He announces his presence and gives Harrison a chance to surrender or else they will come in and get him. By following protocol, rather than following Wallace's sneak attack orders, the crew has put their lives in danger. They are far outnumbered by Klingons. Maybe he can just talk to them and tell them they are not interested in starting a war. They just want to capture a runaway American who is hiding in Klingon territory, using U.S. enemies as a shield. Kirk needs to explain this to them and asks how Uruha's Klingon is. Rusty but good she says. If the three of them go down to confront the Klingons, will she and Spock have any trouble working together? Not at all Uruha says. "Unclear," is Spock's more realistic answer, as he catches the frosty vibes Uruha is emanating.
Once the three are enroute, Uruha explodes at Spock. He wants to talk about it at another time and she says there is never a good time for him. He never wants to communicate. And it's not just her perception. Kirk is mad at him too. Kirk first says that he doesn't want to be pulled into their personal quarrel, but then rethinks and admits that yes, he's mad at Spock too.
Uruha is angry that Spock was so willing to give up his life in that volcano, to die without a thought to the people who love him that were left behind, because he just doesn't care. Spock says that when he mind-melded with the dying Pike, he felt his sense of loneliness and loss. He felt that way too, only tenfold, when his planet died and all his fellow Vulcans were killed. He never wants to feel such pain again. So, when Uhura concludes that he doesn't care, she's got it wrong. Just the opposite is true. He cares too much and has chosen not to give into that feeling, because of the anguish it may lead to. This touches her, but I don't know why.
Whether he's inherently apathetic or just wills himself to be so, isn't it the same difference? Doesn't that mean that he'll endanger hmself next time, just as he did in the volcano? Won't he always put logic ahead of love? It doesn't matter why he does it, it still leaves her (and their future together) out in the cold. Actually, it does matter why he does it. He has made a decision not to succumb to emotion which is actually a more determined form of rejection than if he simply disregarded her feelings unthinkingly. So, I fail to see what she's so doggone happy about.
They almost crash going in to Klingon territory. Since their plan to kill or capture Harrison without the Klingons even knowing they're there failed, it looks like their presence may be considered a threat, leading to World War. The Enterprise will be the first casualty. Uhura asks to go down alone, to use diplomacy to explain why they are there in their own language. Kirk allows this.
She tells the Klingons they're just there to get one of their own, not to fight. They are hostile. Kirk wants to go down after Uhura, but Spock thinks that he'll just anger both the enemy and Uhura, by interfering now. So, he respects her need to act, even if it costs her life, like he wanted her to do when he went into the volcano. And she did. Although apprehensive, she didn't try to hold him back. She wanted him to return when she realized it was a fatal mission or at least wanted him to acknowledge her with a goodbye, but she didn't try to stop him from doing his job, no matter what the personal cost . . . Now, she was ready to do the same.
The Klingons turn on her and Kirk and Spock bolt forward. Three of them against an army. Suddenly Harrison appears and singlehandedly destroys most of the Klingons. He then surrenders himself to Kirk, who pounds him furiously, avenging Pike's death. Spock doesn't stop Kirk, doesn't remind him about the "rules". Harrison doesn't fight back. He simply absorbs Kirk's blows. Finally, Uruha yells at Kirk to stop. They take Harrison aboard the Enterprise as a prisoner of war.
Kirk wonders why Harrison surrendered. The way he defeated a swarm of Klingons proved that the Enterprise crew was no threat to him. Why did he let himself be captured? Kirk talks to Harrison who tells him that his real name is Khan. He asks how many torpedoes Kirk has on board. 72 Spock answers. Khan says that they didn't just load them onto the Enterprise to use against Harrison. Those torpedoes have always been there. They were the Enterprise's true mission.
I'm a big BBC Sherlock fan. Actually, I'm obsessed with Steven Moffat, from Coupling to Doctor Who, but there's no doubt that Benedict Cumberbatch (and Freeman) make Sherlock extraordinary. I enjoy the pale, androgynous Holmes character so much, revel in his soft curls and nerdy, cerebral aspect, that I was put off by all the clamor regarding Cumberbatch's sex appeal in this film. Don't Montalban this man up, I thought. I didn't like the idea of his basic appeal, his ability to penetrate from within, being obscured by cosmetic glamour. What I've learned since is that, while you can't judge a book by its cover, a good cover never hurt a book!
Like milk, a contemporary hair cut does a body good. Curls shorn, Cumberbatch's strong facial features now stand out and he appears to have bulked up for the role. Khan is carved. His stronger physical frame is matched with a deeper, baritone vocal that not only adds menace to Khan's threats, but tinges his softer moments with a rich, if deceptive, sincerity. While Sherlock is light and swift, Khan is fast, sharp and crushing. The two characters are like comparing the power of wind against that of rock. Glory in the diversity, just makes the actor more impressive. Each word he utters is considered, polished then served to maximum effect, bringing gravitas to each scene he graces. He easily steals the show, while Khan wins Kirk's trust.
Having raised Kirk's suspicions about the torpedoes, Kirk decides to open one. That's when Spock informs him that Carol is actually Commander Wallace's daughter and a weapons expert. He checked her out, since Kirk never thought to do so. He didn't reveal this information, since it didn't seem relevant. Until now.
Unmasked Carol says she worked by her father's side, but there was always one department that he kept secret from her. When she learned about the torpedoes on the Enterprise, she stowed aboard to find out what Wallace was concealing. She uses her weapons expertise to help McCoy open a torpedo and they find a body inside. It's a living organism, but has been frozen cryogenically for hundreds of years.
Kirk confronts Khan with the news. Khan says that each torpedo contains a body. They are the last people remaining from his planet. They were his crew, his family and he would do anything to save them. Wallace unthawed Khan because his people were known for their savage war skills. Wallace wanted Khan to teach U.S. troops those skills so that Wallace could then wage war on the Klingons and overpower them, with ancient techniques. Wallace held the lives of Khan's frozen crew hostage in those torpedoes which, when fired, would kill those encapsulized within. If Kirk had actually killed Khan with those torpedoes, he would have killed Khan and all that remained of his planet. Khan was prepared to do anything to save them, just as Kirk would do for his own crew. That is why Khan attacked the military officers, because Wallace was attacking his people.
Khan also gives Kirk coordinates to investigate, which Kirk passes on to Scotty. Still sulking over his forced resignation, Scotty nevertheless, leads a drunken bender and heads off to help Kirk by locating the coordinates' location.
As Wallace's plot is unraveling, the Enterprise finds that it is in the cross hairs of an unmarked government ship, headed by Wallace. He demands that Kirk hand over Khan. Kirk refuses and says he will follow due process and take Khan back to earth to await trial. Wallace says that he will just destroy the entire Enterprise then, Khan and everyone else. Carol then reveals herself and says he'll have to choose whether or not to kill his own daughter. "Actually, Carol, I don't." He just beams her aboard his own ship and then attacks the Enterprise whose engine is weakened. The defensive shield won't last much longer.
The coordinates Khan gave Kirk lead to the bow of Wallace's aircraft. Scotty sneaks aboard and is ordered to open the door so that Kirk and Khan can enter as well. Escaping a close call, they finally get in, but once aboard Khan shows his true colors, kills Wallace and turns on Kirk. Kirk escapes back to the Enterprise with Scotty and Carol.
Spock, through time travel communication (which was explained in the last movie, but I've forgotten how or why it was accomplished) contacts his future self (Leonard Nimoy) who, perfunctorily expresses a reluctance to change destiny by influencing past events, then instantly divulges the best way to defeat Khan, offscreen. We learn that the plan is to make Khan think they have fired the 72 torpedoed and killed Khan's crew, though they really haven't. I really don't understand this strategy. Wouldn't it be better to use the 72 as bargaining chips? Perhaps, they thought if the Khan crew died, he would no longer be after the Enterprise, but knowing his lust for revenge, that hardly seems probable. Griefstricken, he's more desperate to kill all of them than ever.
But if the Enterprise gave up its bargaining power, Khan did as well. Why didn't he keep pretending to be on Kirk's side long enough to ensure the safety of his people. Unarm Wallace. Play nice and get back on the Enterprise where his comrades are, then take over the ship. Don't attack Kirk while he's still got control of everything you hold dear in the world.
Oh well. The Enterprise is disabled and can't withstand the continued attack from Khan, who has control of Wallace's ship, much longer. There's a reactor that Kirk can try to restart, but only if he exposes himself to deadly radiation in order to do so. He doesn't hesitate to go in and, literally, kick the reactor back in place, which works like a charm, but seems like a rather primeval repair job if you ask me. It's like calling The IT Crowd for technical support and having them ask, "did you kick it?" first.
The Enterprise is up and running again, but a radioactive Kirk is dying. He's behind a glass partition which can't be raised until the decontamination process is completed or else the entire ship will be infected. Scotty calls Spock to come down. Why not call McCoy, since he's a doctor?
Spock arrives and melts at the sight of his dying friend. Kirk is afraid. He wonders how Spock does it? How does he cut his feelings off and will himself not to care. Spock says that he doesn't. He can't. Right now all he feels is hurt. Kirk presses a wavering hand up to the glass his fingers spread and, on the other side, Spock places his own against it, two fingers on each side, in his familiar Vulcan vee. Just as I am thinking that he should spread his fingers to show his human side, Kirk separates his four fingers into 2 and 2, mimicking Spock's Vulcan greeting. It is the film's most moving moment. Hand to hand, with his friend, Kirk dies. Spock emits a vengeful scream "Kha-a-a-a-a-n," to match the one Kirk cried out for Spock in the 1982 movie.
Meanwhile, Khan has returned to earth to wreak havoc. Spock is prepared to go down to battle him. He turns to Uruha first and she commands him to go get Khan. Spock flees. I wish this scene had just been 5 second longer. Spock certainly had Uhura's approval, but I wanted to know if he was asking for her permission? Their exchange didn't last long enough for me to see a question in his eyes. Was he allowing himself to fully realize the love between them and saying that he would not leave, if she wanted him to stay? Was he putting their relationship above his thirst for justice, for once? I'll never know. I suppose it's enough that he pushed aside the rules and let his anger over Kirk's death propel him after Khan, rather than dispassionately wondering what military protocol demanded.
Sad to think that as the time frame in these movies meets the one in the tv series, Spock and Uruha will break up and become nothing more than the colleagues they portrayed in the tv show. That will be a sad parting.
For now, a younger Spock is off fighting Khan to the death, when McCoy discovers (via tribble testing) that Khan's blood can revive the dead. Therefore, it's imperative that Spock not kill Khan. They need to alert him. Uhura has herself beamed down, which is silly. As a language officer it made sense for her to engage the Klingons, because she is the only one who could have communicated with them. But Spock is in a death match with Khan, why not send a fighter down to him, someone with trained brawn, rather than his linguist girlfriend?
Besides, they have 72 frozen bodies on the Enterprise. Why not just heat one of them up and extract the blood needed to revive Kirk that way? Khan is not the only source of this magic claret.
They don't know this. They spare Khan's life, take his blood and resuscitate Kirk.
Khan is repodded. The lid to the cryogenic capsule closes down over him and he lives, well hibernates, to fight another day.
Kirk is rewarded with continued command of the Enterprise and, back in the captain's chair, they embark on a "five year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before." It is fitting that the word "man" that was used in the original series has now been placed with the word "one."
Where should they go, Kirk asks Spock. Why their destination should be left to Kirk's good judgment, the logical (?) Spock replies.
We have such a history with these characters, having long known and loved them as well as they do each other, that the pleasure a mere look or one-liner between them gives is all that is needed for this movie franchise to live long and prosper.
While I was never a focused Trek fan, after decades of tv reruns syndicated all over, I am well grounded in the core series' relationships between Spock, McCoy and Kirk and can even appreciate variations on the original bonds (i.e. Spock and Uhura's romance), but I'd already forgotten about Kirk's dad and his mentor Pike. So, there was angst there that I couldn't fully appreciate.
The movie starts with the Enterprise on a observatory mission to a primitive civilization. They're supposed to look at how the natives live, not interfere, not allow allow themselves to be seen. They soon learn that a volcano is about to erupt which will destroy all life on the planet. With Kirk already on the ground, it's up to Spock to disable the volcano. A nervous Uhura helps him dress for the journey and kisses his helmet goodbye.
He enters its fiery mouth to do so and soon learns that in order to save the people, he'll have to sacrifice his own life. He's willing to do that. When Kirk discovers that Spock is willing to incinerate himself to stop the deadly volcano, he commands him to return to the ship. Spock refuses and limits communication with them, ready to face his death alone, to Uhura's hurt and chagrin. Kirk races to find a way to save Spock's life, though the Vulcan himself seems disinterested in that cause and cautions Kirk that he should not break the rules to rescue a friend. They should be more interested in the good of the many. Frustrated, Kirk asks his crew what Spock would do if their positions were reversed. "He'd let you die," is the answer. Kirk acknowledges the truth in this, but nevertheless raises his spaceship where it has been hidden on the bottom of the ocean floor to get Spock back safely and exposes the Enterprise to the natives (who are awestruck and immediately begin painting likenesses of the alien aircraft), forever changing the course of their development -- as they had just barely discovered fire and ruining the purpose of the mission.
Narrowly escaping that close call, back at home Kirk has been called in to see Pike and thinks that he's about to get a promotion. He finds, instead, that Spock has advised their supervisors of their crew's rule violations, unbeknownst to Kirk. Kirk reminds Spock that he risked everything to save Spock's life and he expected him to keep quiet about it. Spock reminds him that Vulcans cannot lie. Kirk counters that he's only 50% Vulcan and Kirk is trying to appeal to Spock's human side for a change. He wants him to act like a friend, not just an officer.
Pike demotes Kirk for taking unnecessary risks. Yes, Kirk is good, but that has only made him arrogant. He thinks he's invincible and is too reckless to remain a captain. They're taking the Enterprise away from him and returning it to Pike. Spock is being assigned to another ship. Kirk is despondent. Despite the fact that he's infuriated with Spock, he bids him a fond adieu and says that he will miss him. Spock is non-responsive, further maddening Kirk.
He heads out to get drunk. Pike finds him and tells him that he has selected Kirk to be his second-in-command, a show of faith that means more to Kirk on a personal level than his demotion does on a professional one.
Meanwhile, a couple keeps vigil over their dying daughter. A mysterious officer, John Harrison, offers the father a cure, giving the man a vial of blood with which to inject the girl, but it comes with a price. The father fills the girls IV with the vial's contents and watches her heartrate rise immediately. If I were him, I'd at least wait until she regained consciousness, before keeping my end of the deal, but this dad races off to do his evil benefactor's bidding immediately. He blows up one of the government's archive compounds. Hearing of the news at the bar, Pike and Kirk rush off to a special emergency meeting of commanders and first officers.
At the meeting, although he's no longer a captain, Kirk still thinks like one. There was nothing important in that archive. Why destroy it, unless the true purpose was to cause a gathering of all the military leaders, just like the one they're having, now --- just as Kirk is hesitantly putting this thought together they are fired upon by Harrison who, hovers outside in a helicopter, heavily armed. He levels a rainstorm of havoc on them, before escaping.
As they scramble around in the debris, Spock comes upon the wounded Pike. He mind melds with him, as Pike dies. Coming upon them, Kirk is devastated.
They learn that Harrison has fled to Klingon territory, where he presumably thinks he cannot be followed, since it would lead to World War if the U.S. invades Klingon land. Kirk wants to go after Harrison and begs for permission to do so. Commander Wallace says that there cannot be any more casualties, because (1) Kirk has caused enough damage and, (2) just as Pike brought Kirk into service, Wallace is the one who enlisted and mentored Pike. Wallace owes it to Pike to keep Kirk safe. So, he'll only let Kirk go after Harrison, one of their own rogue officers, if Kirk locates then torpedoes and kills him immediately, without the Klingons ever knowing he was there. That's the only way to avoid war. Kirk readily agrees. He asks to be returned to command of the Enterprise and to have Spock reinstated as his first officer. Wallace agrees.
When Spock hears the news, rather than rejoicing that he and Kirk have been reunited, he warns Kirk that it's against martial law for them to kill come upon Harrison and kill him without warning, without giving him a fair trial. Kirk says it's their orders. Spock insists that it's morally wrong. Impatiently, Kirk says that the last time Kirk did what was morally right, saving Spock's life, after Spock saved a primitive planet, Spock ratted him out and opted to follow the rules, instead. So, Spock is not in a position to tell Kirk when to defy orders, when he's such a stickler for them himself.
As they prepare to return to the Enterprise, Carol, a science officer tells Kirk she's also been assigned to the ship. Kirk didn't order a new science officer and Spock feels it would hardly have been necessary for him to do so, since Spock is there himself. However, since Carol is attractive, Kirk is not in the mood to question why she is there. This attitude seems especially foolhardy since they've all just been attacked from within. If Harrison turned on his own government, who's to say this mysterious science officer can be trusted? She simply tells Kirk that she was assigned to him by Wallace (which turns out not to have been true) and he doesn't even ask to see the paperwork, much less perform a background check.
Back at the ship, Scotty refuses to let them load the torpedoes. He reminds Kirk that it's their job to seek out new lives, not to take them. The Enterprise is not supposed to be a warship. Kirk insists that Scotty just sign off on the torpedoes. Scotty resigns, rather than do so and, to his surprise, Kirk accepts the resignation. Oh, I've felt the shock displayed on Scotty's countenance myself, when you think the boss can't bear to lose you and, with kneejerk speed, will promise anything necessary to keep you from quitting. Then, he doesn't. Abashed and stunned, Scotty leaves his beloved aircraft, Kirk and an overwhelmed and unprepared Checkov behind.
Reeling himself, Kirk feels besieged from all sides and feels the guilt he's been trying to deny. When he runs into Uhura on the elevator, he complains that her "boyfriend" is impossible. He quickly apologizes for this lack of professionalism, but once she regains her composures she tells Kirk it's not just him. What? Are she and Kirk having trouble? Kirk's curiousity is almost gleeful. Uhura says she prefers not to talk about it, as the elevator doors open and a bemused Spock stand before them. "Ears burning?" Kirk taunts him.
Once they get to Harrison's hide out, Kirk's conscience has won out. He's not going to sneak up and kill Harrison, no matter what he's done. He's going to take him back to the U.S. to stand trial. He announces his presence and gives Harrison a chance to surrender or else they will come in and get him. By following protocol, rather than following Wallace's sneak attack orders, the crew has put their lives in danger. They are far outnumbered by Klingons. Maybe he can just talk to them and tell them they are not interested in starting a war. They just want to capture a runaway American who is hiding in Klingon territory, using U.S. enemies as a shield. Kirk needs to explain this to them and asks how Uruha's Klingon is. Rusty but good she says. If the three of them go down to confront the Klingons, will she and Spock have any trouble working together? Not at all Uruha says. "Unclear," is Spock's more realistic answer, as he catches the frosty vibes Uruha is emanating.
Once the three are enroute, Uruha explodes at Spock. He wants to talk about it at another time and she says there is never a good time for him. He never wants to communicate. And it's not just her perception. Kirk is mad at him too. Kirk first says that he doesn't want to be pulled into their personal quarrel, but then rethinks and admits that yes, he's mad at Spock too.
Uruha is angry that Spock was so willing to give up his life in that volcano, to die without a thought to the people who love him that were left behind, because he just doesn't care. Spock says that when he mind-melded with the dying Pike, he felt his sense of loneliness and loss. He felt that way too, only tenfold, when his planet died and all his fellow Vulcans were killed. He never wants to feel such pain again. So, when Uhura concludes that he doesn't care, she's got it wrong. Just the opposite is true. He cares too much and has chosen not to give into that feeling, because of the anguish it may lead to. This touches her, but I don't know why.
Whether he's inherently apathetic or just wills himself to be so, isn't it the same difference? Doesn't that mean that he'll endanger hmself next time, just as he did in the volcano? Won't he always put logic ahead of love? It doesn't matter why he does it, it still leaves her (and their future together) out in the cold. Actually, it does matter why he does it. He has made a decision not to succumb to emotion which is actually a more determined form of rejection than if he simply disregarded her feelings unthinkingly. So, I fail to see what she's so doggone happy about.
They almost crash going in to Klingon territory. Since their plan to kill or capture Harrison without the Klingons even knowing they're there failed, it looks like their presence may be considered a threat, leading to World War. The Enterprise will be the first casualty. Uhura asks to go down alone, to use diplomacy to explain why they are there in their own language. Kirk allows this.
She tells the Klingons they're just there to get one of their own, not to fight. They are hostile. Kirk wants to go down after Uhura, but Spock thinks that he'll just anger both the enemy and Uhura, by interfering now. So, he respects her need to act, even if it costs her life, like he wanted her to do when he went into the volcano. And she did. Although apprehensive, she didn't try to hold him back. She wanted him to return when she realized it was a fatal mission or at least wanted him to acknowledge her with a goodbye, but she didn't try to stop him from doing his job, no matter what the personal cost . . . Now, she was ready to do the same.
The Klingons turn on her and Kirk and Spock bolt forward. Three of them against an army. Suddenly Harrison appears and singlehandedly destroys most of the Klingons. He then surrenders himself to Kirk, who pounds him furiously, avenging Pike's death. Spock doesn't stop Kirk, doesn't remind him about the "rules". Harrison doesn't fight back. He simply absorbs Kirk's blows. Finally, Uruha yells at Kirk to stop. They take Harrison aboard the Enterprise as a prisoner of war.
Kirk wonders why Harrison surrendered. The way he defeated a swarm of Klingons proved that the Enterprise crew was no threat to him. Why did he let himself be captured? Kirk talks to Harrison who tells him that his real name is Khan. He asks how many torpedoes Kirk has on board. 72 Spock answers. Khan says that they didn't just load them onto the Enterprise to use against Harrison. Those torpedoes have always been there. They were the Enterprise's true mission.
I'm a big BBC Sherlock fan. Actually, I'm obsessed with Steven Moffat, from Coupling to Doctor Who, but there's no doubt that Benedict Cumberbatch (and Freeman) make Sherlock extraordinary. I enjoy the pale, androgynous Holmes character so much, revel in his soft curls and nerdy, cerebral aspect, that I was put off by all the clamor regarding Cumberbatch's sex appeal in this film. Don't Montalban this man up, I thought. I didn't like the idea of his basic appeal, his ability to penetrate from within, being obscured by cosmetic glamour. What I've learned since is that, while you can't judge a book by its cover, a good cover never hurt a book!
Like milk, a contemporary hair cut does a body good. Curls shorn, Cumberbatch's strong facial features now stand out and he appears to have bulked up for the role. Khan is carved. His stronger physical frame is matched with a deeper, baritone vocal that not only adds menace to Khan's threats, but tinges his softer moments with a rich, if deceptive, sincerity. While Sherlock is light and swift, Khan is fast, sharp and crushing. The two characters are like comparing the power of wind against that of rock. Glory in the diversity, just makes the actor more impressive. Each word he utters is considered, polished then served to maximum effect, bringing gravitas to each scene he graces. He easily steals the show, while Khan wins Kirk's trust.
Having raised Kirk's suspicions about the torpedoes, Kirk decides to open one. That's when Spock informs him that Carol is actually Commander Wallace's daughter and a weapons expert. He checked her out, since Kirk never thought to do so. He didn't reveal this information, since it didn't seem relevant. Until now.
Unmasked Carol says she worked by her father's side, but there was always one department that he kept secret from her. When she learned about the torpedoes on the Enterprise, she stowed aboard to find out what Wallace was concealing. She uses her weapons expertise to help McCoy open a torpedo and they find a body inside. It's a living organism, but has been frozen cryogenically for hundreds of years.
Kirk confronts Khan with the news. Khan says that each torpedo contains a body. They are the last people remaining from his planet. They were his crew, his family and he would do anything to save them. Wallace unthawed Khan because his people were known for their savage war skills. Wallace wanted Khan to teach U.S. troops those skills so that Wallace could then wage war on the Klingons and overpower them, with ancient techniques. Wallace held the lives of Khan's frozen crew hostage in those torpedoes which, when fired, would kill those encapsulized within. If Kirk had actually killed Khan with those torpedoes, he would have killed Khan and all that remained of his planet. Khan was prepared to do anything to save them, just as Kirk would do for his own crew. That is why Khan attacked the military officers, because Wallace was attacking his people.
Khan also gives Kirk coordinates to investigate, which Kirk passes on to Scotty. Still sulking over his forced resignation, Scotty nevertheless, leads a drunken bender and heads off to help Kirk by locating the coordinates' location.
As Wallace's plot is unraveling, the Enterprise finds that it is in the cross hairs of an unmarked government ship, headed by Wallace. He demands that Kirk hand over Khan. Kirk refuses and says he will follow due process and take Khan back to earth to await trial. Wallace says that he will just destroy the entire Enterprise then, Khan and everyone else. Carol then reveals herself and says he'll have to choose whether or not to kill his own daughter. "Actually, Carol, I don't." He just beams her aboard his own ship and then attacks the Enterprise whose engine is weakened. The defensive shield won't last much longer.
The coordinates Khan gave Kirk lead to the bow of Wallace's aircraft. Scotty sneaks aboard and is ordered to open the door so that Kirk and Khan can enter as well. Escaping a close call, they finally get in, but once aboard Khan shows his true colors, kills Wallace and turns on Kirk. Kirk escapes back to the Enterprise with Scotty and Carol.
Spock, through time travel communication (which was explained in the last movie, but I've forgotten how or why it was accomplished) contacts his future self (Leonard Nimoy) who, perfunctorily expresses a reluctance to change destiny by influencing past events, then instantly divulges the best way to defeat Khan, offscreen. We learn that the plan is to make Khan think they have fired the 72 torpedoed and killed Khan's crew, though they really haven't. I really don't understand this strategy. Wouldn't it be better to use the 72 as bargaining chips? Perhaps, they thought if the Khan crew died, he would no longer be after the Enterprise, but knowing his lust for revenge, that hardly seems probable. Griefstricken, he's more desperate to kill all of them than ever.
But if the Enterprise gave up its bargaining power, Khan did as well. Why didn't he keep pretending to be on Kirk's side long enough to ensure the safety of his people. Unarm Wallace. Play nice and get back on the Enterprise where his comrades are, then take over the ship. Don't attack Kirk while he's still got control of everything you hold dear in the world.
Oh well. The Enterprise is disabled and can't withstand the continued attack from Khan, who has control of Wallace's ship, much longer. There's a reactor that Kirk can try to restart, but only if he exposes himself to deadly radiation in order to do so. He doesn't hesitate to go in and, literally, kick the reactor back in place, which works like a charm, but seems like a rather primeval repair job if you ask me. It's like calling The IT Crowd for technical support and having them ask, "did you kick it?" first.
The Enterprise is up and running again, but a radioactive Kirk is dying. He's behind a glass partition which can't be raised until the decontamination process is completed or else the entire ship will be infected. Scotty calls Spock to come down. Why not call McCoy, since he's a doctor?
Spock arrives and melts at the sight of his dying friend. Kirk is afraid. He wonders how Spock does it? How does he cut his feelings off and will himself not to care. Spock says that he doesn't. He can't. Right now all he feels is hurt. Kirk presses a wavering hand up to the glass his fingers spread and, on the other side, Spock places his own against it, two fingers on each side, in his familiar Vulcan vee. Just as I am thinking that he should spread his fingers to show his human side, Kirk separates his four fingers into 2 and 2, mimicking Spock's Vulcan greeting. It is the film's most moving moment. Hand to hand, with his friend, Kirk dies. Spock emits a vengeful scream "Kha-a-a-a-a-n," to match the one Kirk cried out for Spock in the 1982 movie.
Meanwhile, Khan has returned to earth to wreak havoc. Spock is prepared to go down to battle him. He turns to Uruha first and she commands him to go get Khan. Spock flees. I wish this scene had just been 5 second longer. Spock certainly had Uhura's approval, but I wanted to know if he was asking for her permission? Their exchange didn't last long enough for me to see a question in his eyes. Was he allowing himself to fully realize the love between them and saying that he would not leave, if she wanted him to stay? Was he putting their relationship above his thirst for justice, for once? I'll never know. I suppose it's enough that he pushed aside the rules and let his anger over Kirk's death propel him after Khan, rather than dispassionately wondering what military protocol demanded.
Sad to think that as the time frame in these movies meets the one in the tv series, Spock and Uruha will break up and become nothing more than the colleagues they portrayed in the tv show. That will be a sad parting.
For now, a younger Spock is off fighting Khan to the death, when McCoy discovers (via tribble testing) that Khan's blood can revive the dead. Therefore, it's imperative that Spock not kill Khan. They need to alert him. Uhura has herself beamed down, which is silly. As a language officer it made sense for her to engage the Klingons, because she is the only one who could have communicated with them. But Spock is in a death match with Khan, why not send a fighter down to him, someone with trained brawn, rather than his linguist girlfriend?
Besides, they have 72 frozen bodies on the Enterprise. Why not just heat one of them up and extract the blood needed to revive Kirk that way? Khan is not the only source of this magic claret.
They don't know this. They spare Khan's life, take his blood and resuscitate Kirk.
Khan is repodded. The lid to the cryogenic capsule closes down over him and he lives, well hibernates, to fight another day.
Kirk is rewarded with continued command of the Enterprise and, back in the captain's chair, they embark on a "five year mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before." It is fitting that the word "man" that was used in the original series has now been placed with the word "one."
Where should they go, Kirk asks Spock. Why their destination should be left to Kirk's good judgment, the logical (?) Spock replies.
We have such a history with these characters, having long known and loved them as well as they do each other, that the pleasure a mere look or one-liner between them gives is all that is needed for this movie franchise to live long and prosper.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Cruel Intentions (1999)
More than most, this film was such a creature of pop culture that, 14 years after the fact, there is no way I can appreciate the impact it had when first released.
Looking back, I just see established actors in a mediocre comedy (?) rather than rising stars making some of their first marks on our entertainment consciences. Darn it, maybe I should have watched Dangerous Liaisons, even Valmont, first or, heaven forbid, read Les Liaisons Dangereuses to fully appreciate this contemporary take on the french classic, but I didn't, so my less informed impression of the movie is that it's just an uninspired cross between Something About Mary and a coed Heathers.
I understand that the movie's graphic dialogue was quite shocking for its time, but 14 years after the fact, it doesn't even cause me to raise an eyebrow. I've heard more lurid language on the ABC Family channel.
We meet Sebastian Valmont at his therapy session. We don't know what he's being counseled for. Sex addiction? He's been expelled from school, but his actual offenses are not specified. Whatever his mental malady, while assuring her that he's improved, he's making a play for his self-absorbed doctor, who brushes him off for a book tour. However, the joke's on her as, once he leaves, she learns that he's seduced her scholarly daughter and posted nude pictures of her on the internet. Hey! I didn't realize people even did that back in 1999. We were more evolved than I thought.
Heedless of social mores, human feelings or, parking regulations he returns home infuriating countless people on the way. Back at their high rise apartment, his stepsister Kathryn Merteuil is waiting. As a Buffy fan, I'm impressed with Sarah Michelle Gellar's refined appearance and frosty elegance and her sex appeal is certainly not lost on me, but no part of her portrayal here blows me away. I'm rather perplexed as to why this role has become so infamous over time. Sure, Kathryn is evil, but it's no surprise that Gellar can be. Kathryn can turn a nice phrase of dialogue. Duh! Gellar was doing that back when she was still a kid on All My Children. A bigger problem is, I have the benefit of 145 hours of Buffy, while this movie was made back when the show had only been on the air for 2 years. I suppose that, as Kathryn, Gellar exhibits a sophistocated range that Buffy Summers, who in Buffy's second season, still snuck out of her bedroom to avoid her mother's curfew, had yet to reveal. Original movie viewers had not yet seen Buffy and Spike having public sex all over Sunnydale. Even with that in mind, while Kathryn often charms, I'm underwhelmed by the film's overall use of Gellar. Kathryn's a seductress and schemer, but she's no slayer.
Kathryn, a seemingly model college student and mentor to underclassmen, was dumped by her last conquest for, Cecile, an insipid teen. She wants revenge: against Cecile. This confuses me because (1) Cecile is not still dating the boy and he won't be effected by her ruin, (2) Cecile is oblivious to the fact that Kathryn was jilted and doesn't even realize they dated the same fellow, and (3) Cecile's honor would seem harder to preserve than to lose. When we meet her, she is sitting open-legged in Kathryn's living room, gawking at Sebastian. The fact that her virginity remains intact is due to stupidity, rather than intent. If bringing Cecile down is Kathryn's idea of plotting, I must question her true deviance.
Sebastian seems to feel the same. When Kathryn tries to enlist his aid against Cecile, he declines, claiming that such a conquest would be too easy for a man of his expertise. Instead, he wants to debauch Annette Hargrove, the new college dean's virtuous daughter. She's taken a vow of abstinence and Sebastian intends to break it. Kathryn bets he'll fail. The stakes? If she wins, she gets his expensive 1956 car. If he wins, he gets Kathryn. It seems he's lusted after her since her mother married his father. He's the only woman he can't have, not unless he plays his cards right. Sebastian seems hesitant -- guess he really likes his car. But Kathryn closes the deal by promising, "I'll let you put it anywhere," a temptation even blase Sebastian can't resist. It's a deal.
He embarks on the plan to bed Kathryn who is a guest at his wealthy aunt's home. But his reputation precedes him and Annette easily defends against his false flattery. In fact, she seems to be playing a game of her own. Sebastian plays loud music to lure Annette to the the indoor swimming pool where Sebastian is lulling about in a wheel chair (for reasons unknown and unquestioned). They engage in laps and Annette does not seem immune to his flirtations, but when he moves in for a kiss she coolly pulls away and wonders just how stupid he thinks she is. He's the one left stunned.
He wonders whose alerted her to his untrustworthiness and jumps to the broad conclusion that it must be Greg, a student he knows who hails from Kansas, like Annette does. I know it's a small world, but as far as deductive reasoning goes, that seems to be straining things a bit . . . Certain that he's right, Sebastian has Blaine, a gay friend, seduce Greg, comes in and takes pictures when they're in flagrante delicto and blackmails Greg. Greg insists that he never spoke to Annette about Sebastian. Threatening to expose his bisexuality, Sebastian makes Greg find out who did. This extortion plot is stupid on so many levels. First, why does Blaine do Sebastian's bidding so easily? Sebastian pays him, but judging from his surroundings, Blaine doesn't seem to need the money that badly. If he did, why not just blackmail Greg himself and be paid by him, rather than working on Sebastian's behalf? He and Sebastian seem to be occasional companions in ennui, rather than BFFs. So, Blaine didn't act out of loyalty or friendship. Once the set up is complete, it becomes clear that Blaine never thought Greg was the guilty party anyway. So, what was his motive? He said that Greg was good in bed, why gratuitously ruin the relationship, however casual it was?
Secondly, why does it matter who is badmouthing Sebastian to Annette? All Sebastian has to do is work to change her mind or to show her that he's changed -- which is what he ultimately does. Therefore, her initial impression of him is irrelevant, since it's not a static one. In short, the entire threat to expose Greg's homosexuality is pointless and I'm confused as to why it's in the script. This is one of the subplots that was probably better illuminated in the novel or play.
Seeking Annette's confidence, Blaine discovers that the person who actually warned Annette about Sebastian was Cecile's mother, Bunny Caldwell. He passes this tidbit along. Although the news annoys Sebastian, he doesn't seem to act on it. He never says, "I'll sleep with Cecile to get back at Bunny" and there would have been no point in doing so because, again, Cecile was not an easy conquest. She was just easy, period. Knowing him, I think it would have been more interesting if he'd slept with Bunny, as his form of revenge. Yet, revenge doesn't seem to be his purpose. He ends up sleeping with Cecile seemingly for no other reason than that Kathryn repears her earlier request that he do so. This time, he says yes.
Not to be outdone by Sebastian's pointless plot pranks, Kathryn has been indulging in her own. She takes Cecile out, gets her tipsy and french kisses her, for no discernible reason. Sure, the move titilates the audience. Sarah and Selma created a scene that's still talked about today, but to what end? She tells Sebastian she needs him to whet Cecile's burgeoning sexual appetite, so maybe that's what she was doing as well. But there's no need. The overheated Cecile does upside down leg splits right under her male music teacher's nose. Literally. Her sexual appetite needs no whetting or wetting. It's raring to go, already. Furthermore, if Kathryn wants to subject Cecile to social ruin, why involve Sebastian at all. Simply pushing Cecile into the arms of her black music teacher, Ronald, is enough to scandalize Bunny Caldwell and her prejudiced social circle. Upon learning that they are romantically inclined, Bunny exclaims, "but he's so black!" and fires him on the spot. I would think that all Kathryn would have to do was spread the word about Ronald and Cecile on campus and the girl would be shunned by the entire blue-blooded college.
Of course, Kathryn doesn't like to get her hands dirty. She's revered by Bunny Caldwell and their peers. Unlike Sebastian, she's not a social outcast. She says she can't afford to be, because of her sex. That's why she keeps her cocaine concealed in the crucifix around her neck and, fingering it meaningfully, lets everyone know she takes comfort in God in times of stress. For Sebastian tarnishing his image, somehow enhances it. But a woman who sins is judged harshly and permanently. Kathryn takes pains to keep her handiwork hidden, but that only means she could have Sebastian blab the word about Ronald and Cecile rather than doing it herself.
True, Sebastian's callous handling of Cecile contrasts with his sincere feelings for Annette, helping to express the character's gradual metamorphosis. The problem is that Cecile is such a pratfalling caricature that you can't take her scenes seriously. She's not innocent, sympathetic or sensient. She can't add structure or context to any other part of the story.
Consequently, there's no logical reason for Sebastian to sleep with Cecile, but he does, pushing the awkward girl out of bed immediately afterwards. Selma Blair is quite funny in the role of slapstick dunce, but she's involved in comedy so over-the-top that it seems at odds with everyone else's performance. None of the other characters are walking into doors with tongue-lagging and eyes spinning stupidly.
While making time with Cecile, Sebastian is also making inroads on his bet. He's winning over Annette who sees cracks in his bad boy facade. He admits to Kathryn that Annette is also getting to him. Her wants to scoff at her wholesome allure, but can't quite do it. Making kooky faces he can't resist, she melts his sneers into smiles. In turn, she's no longer playing nonchalant herself. Whatever guard she put up has long fled. Sebastian makes his move. She says she's been saving herself for love, but then when it really comes along, she's not ready to act, is she? She's afraid. She accepts his challenge and is soon inviting him into her bed. He's the one who runs.
Back at home, Kathryn taunts him. His car will soon be hers, because Annette turned him down, didn't she? No, he informs her. It's just the opposite. Kathryn declares that that's even worse, if Annette was ready to sleep with him, but he couldn't close the deal. This is where I'd like insight. How does Kathryn really feel about this? Is she jealous because Sebastian's genuine feelings for Annette are deeper than his lust for Kathryn ever was. Kathryn has said that while it's easy enough to compromise herself and snag men, she inevitably loses them to ignorant and innocent girls like Cecile. Does she view Sebastian as another loss? Is she hurt? Is she mad? Or is she simply as amused by the exploits of others as ever? Does she want Sebastian back as her partner in crime or is she content to watch the lovesick fool hang himself? It's hard to tell, but she clearly takes delight in informing him that Annette has packed her things and left the home of Sebastian's aunt.
Sebastian runs after her, pulls her into his arms and they are soon sharing a night of tender passion in the film's most compelling scenes. Phillippe and Witherspoon were married the year this movie came out and it's not hard to imagine that Annette and Sebastian's believable intimacy sprang from real life emotion.
The morning after, Sebastian is still on cloud nine. So he bedded, Annette? Kathryn expects him to collect on his bet. Has he come to her to make "arrangements." Sebastian tells her he's no longer interested in anything she has to offer. She's not ostensibly angry or hurt, but orders him to break it off with Annette or she'll tell her about their bet. I don't know enough about her character to decide if she's doing this to keep Sebastian for herself or just for sport?
Of course, it doesn't matter. Sebastian could tell Annette the truth, since she suspected he was out to hang another notch on his belt in the first place. That shouldn't come as a real surprise to her. He can say that that started as his goal, but then he really fell for her and she should believe it. The forced break up is the largest plot device in a script that's full of them. Sebastian tells Annette that he doesn't love her, but since he's crying the entire time, it's hard to fathom why she believes him. Blackguards don't weep, generally. Despite this one's sobs, although Annette initially thought he was kidding about not loving her, she soon accepts it as true and orders him out of her life.
Distraught, he belatedly wants to explain everything to her, but she avoids him. He then leaves her his journal, so she can read everything herself and, hopefully, forgive him.
Realizing that Sebastian is not returning to their wicked fold, Kathryn calls Ronald (who happens to be a former liaison of her own) who is now paired with Cecile and asks him to come over. He declines and she falsely (and tearfully) claims that Sebastian has hit her. It's urgent that she see Ronald and -- it's related to Cecile. Though she says no more than that, Ronald concludes that Sebastian has slept with Cecile and runs off. Of course, the plot's persistent situations premised on failed reputations make it clear that the movie is based on a much older story, created in a bygone age when one romantic indiscretion could result in a lifetime of exile. Otherwise, it would make no sense for Ronald to rush off in a rage when he doesn't know when Sebastian slept with Cecile (before or after she and Ronald became a couple) or if he did it for improper reasons. There's really nothing, under today's standards, for Ronald to be that mad about.
We get a stony stare from Kathryn, but unless I know what she wanted, I can't tell what she's lost: the game, her pawn, her soul mate? If her feelings are conflicted, then let us see them clash. Don't just leave us with her silence.
A rejected Sebastian is leaving Annette's. She's reading his journal, taking in the unvarnished truth and considering forgiveness. Ronald is on his way to hear Kathryn's full accusations against her stepbrother. These worlds collide on a busy street. Ronald sees Sebastian, lunges at him. Sebastian is unexpectedly getting in a few good punches of his own. I didn't know they taught fisticuffs in prep school. Annette screams at them to stop fighting and tries to intervene. She's knocked into the street. Sebastian lunges to save her and, in pushing her away from an oncoming car, he's hit himself. "I love you" he whispers to Annette who holds his broken frame. "I love you too."
I flashback to the wheelchair we saw him in earlier, during the indoor pool scene. I think it foreshadowed the fact that he ends up paralyzed and can hardly believe it when it turns out he's dead. Really dead. I keep waiting for a twist, perhaps this is a trick to indict Kathryn, but it turns out the funeral everyone is attending is the genuine article.
As the mourners assemble, we find Kathryn in the restroom, having just snorted a line of cocaine from her crucifix necklace. Annette surprises her by emerging from a stall and wondering if she's all right. Patting the cross, Kathryn says she's relying on God during this difficult time. Did Annette know Sebastian, Kathryn asks? You could say that. Left alone, Kathryn just tidies herself. We don't know if she's feeling guilt, grief or satisfaction at Sebastian's passing. She enters the gathering and takes the pulpit to eulogize Sebastian when suddenly there's rustling and snickering, then everyone runs outside. Furious, Kathryn rails at their rudeness then joins them outside to find out what's going on. It turns out that everyone is (speed)reading a copy of Sebastian's journal. Annette has xeroxed and distributed hundreds of them. Even Kathryn's parents have them and now know everything that Kathryn has done, as she and her dastardly deeds take center stage in the diary's illustrated pages. Her stepfather verifies the truth of Sebastian's writings by grabbing the cross from around Kathryn's neck and finding the cocaine inside, just where Sebastian said it was. We leave Kathryn to her humiliation.
We next see a carefree Annette driving down the highway in Sebastian's prized car, wind in her hair, sunglasses on. Sebastian's leather bound journal rests in the back seat, a satisfied smile on her face and all her memories of him in her heart, we know that Kathryn's lost the bet once and for all.
I don't know what to feel here. Although, they had nice scenes, the movie was too vacuous to take Annette and Sebastian's "love" seriously. He was just as heartless as Kathryn and hadn't been converted long enough for me to mourn his death. As part of a black comedy, the ending wasn't particularly humourous and since Kathryn's feelings were largely shielded from us, her comeuppance wasn't as triumphant as it could have been or, as long-lived, since we quickly cut away from the funeral while everyone's reaction to her exposure was still occurring.
The movie delivered on some smirks and sexual posing, but hardly much else. The intentions seemed less cruel than kooky. Sebastian and Kathryn really aren't apathetic enough for this to be a study on the devoid detachment of monied youth. They're pretty easily flustered to be as jaded as the story would suggest. Presenting languid indifference as a lifestyle is a great way to condemn the wealthy, but that's not what we get. Even the way penetrable Sebastian conceded to Kathryn, much less Annette, suggested that he was never a true sociopath to begin with. Kathryn might have been one, but we didn't see enough of her to tell. Phillippe and Gellar are good together, so we should have been given more of their complicated story and less of the facile Annette/Sebastian relationship. At one point Kathryn remarks that Sebastian doesn't love her anymore and I'd never know he had or that she thought he had. Presented with a stronger motive for her actions, her sense of having been scorned and abandoned, they would have resonated more with the audience. As it is, her desultory meddling gave me little to sink my teeth in. Fill her with anger, ice or misguided pain, but not ambivalence.
I think the film's remembered most for Sarah Michelle Gellar having played so far against type and, maybe because I'd heard about that going in, I was waiting for an acting turn or tour de force that never materialized. It was fun to watch the four leads in this piece work, but only because in the 14 years since this movie was released they've all turned in much finer and fuller performances elsewhere. Even so, it was entertaining to see them nearer the beginning of their careers. Maybe if I'd witnessed this then, it would have left a more indelible impression than it can in retrospect.
Looking back, I just see established actors in a mediocre comedy (?) rather than rising stars making some of their first marks on our entertainment consciences. Darn it, maybe I should have watched Dangerous Liaisons, even Valmont, first or, heaven forbid, read Les Liaisons Dangereuses to fully appreciate this contemporary take on the french classic, but I didn't, so my less informed impression of the movie is that it's just an uninspired cross between Something About Mary and a coed Heathers.
I understand that the movie's graphic dialogue was quite shocking for its time, but 14 years after the fact, it doesn't even cause me to raise an eyebrow. I've heard more lurid language on the ABC Family channel.
We meet Sebastian Valmont at his therapy session. We don't know what he's being counseled for. Sex addiction? He's been expelled from school, but his actual offenses are not specified. Whatever his mental malady, while assuring her that he's improved, he's making a play for his self-absorbed doctor, who brushes him off for a book tour. However, the joke's on her as, once he leaves, she learns that he's seduced her scholarly daughter and posted nude pictures of her on the internet. Hey! I didn't realize people even did that back in 1999. We were more evolved than I thought.
Heedless of social mores, human feelings or, parking regulations he returns home infuriating countless people on the way. Back at their high rise apartment, his stepsister Kathryn Merteuil is waiting. As a Buffy fan, I'm impressed with Sarah Michelle Gellar's refined appearance and frosty elegance and her sex appeal is certainly not lost on me, but no part of her portrayal here blows me away. I'm rather perplexed as to why this role has become so infamous over time. Sure, Kathryn is evil, but it's no surprise that Gellar can be. Kathryn can turn a nice phrase of dialogue. Duh! Gellar was doing that back when she was still a kid on All My Children. A bigger problem is, I have the benefit of 145 hours of Buffy, while this movie was made back when the show had only been on the air for 2 years. I suppose that, as Kathryn, Gellar exhibits a sophistocated range that Buffy Summers, who in Buffy's second season, still snuck out of her bedroom to avoid her mother's curfew, had yet to reveal. Original movie viewers had not yet seen Buffy and Spike having public sex all over Sunnydale. Even with that in mind, while Kathryn often charms, I'm underwhelmed by the film's overall use of Gellar. Kathryn's a seductress and schemer, but she's no slayer.
Kathryn, a seemingly model college student and mentor to underclassmen, was dumped by her last conquest for, Cecile, an insipid teen. She wants revenge: against Cecile. This confuses me because (1) Cecile is not still dating the boy and he won't be effected by her ruin, (2) Cecile is oblivious to the fact that Kathryn was jilted and doesn't even realize they dated the same fellow, and (3) Cecile's honor would seem harder to preserve than to lose. When we meet her, she is sitting open-legged in Kathryn's living room, gawking at Sebastian. The fact that her virginity remains intact is due to stupidity, rather than intent. If bringing Cecile down is Kathryn's idea of plotting, I must question her true deviance.
Sebastian seems to feel the same. When Kathryn tries to enlist his aid against Cecile, he declines, claiming that such a conquest would be too easy for a man of his expertise. Instead, he wants to debauch Annette Hargrove, the new college dean's virtuous daughter. She's taken a vow of abstinence and Sebastian intends to break it. Kathryn bets he'll fail. The stakes? If she wins, she gets his expensive 1956 car. If he wins, he gets Kathryn. It seems he's lusted after her since her mother married his father. He's the only woman he can't have, not unless he plays his cards right. Sebastian seems hesitant -- guess he really likes his car. But Kathryn closes the deal by promising, "I'll let you put it anywhere," a temptation even blase Sebastian can't resist. It's a deal.
He embarks on the plan to bed Kathryn who is a guest at his wealthy aunt's home. But his reputation precedes him and Annette easily defends against his false flattery. In fact, she seems to be playing a game of her own. Sebastian plays loud music to lure Annette to the the indoor swimming pool where Sebastian is lulling about in a wheel chair (for reasons unknown and unquestioned). They engage in laps and Annette does not seem immune to his flirtations, but when he moves in for a kiss she coolly pulls away and wonders just how stupid he thinks she is. He's the one left stunned.
He wonders whose alerted her to his untrustworthiness and jumps to the broad conclusion that it must be Greg, a student he knows who hails from Kansas, like Annette does. I know it's a small world, but as far as deductive reasoning goes, that seems to be straining things a bit . . . Certain that he's right, Sebastian has Blaine, a gay friend, seduce Greg, comes in and takes pictures when they're in flagrante delicto and blackmails Greg. Greg insists that he never spoke to Annette about Sebastian. Threatening to expose his bisexuality, Sebastian makes Greg find out who did. This extortion plot is stupid on so many levels. First, why does Blaine do Sebastian's bidding so easily? Sebastian pays him, but judging from his surroundings, Blaine doesn't seem to need the money that badly. If he did, why not just blackmail Greg himself and be paid by him, rather than working on Sebastian's behalf? He and Sebastian seem to be occasional companions in ennui, rather than BFFs. So, Blaine didn't act out of loyalty or friendship. Once the set up is complete, it becomes clear that Blaine never thought Greg was the guilty party anyway. So, what was his motive? He said that Greg was good in bed, why gratuitously ruin the relationship, however casual it was?
Secondly, why does it matter who is badmouthing Sebastian to Annette? All Sebastian has to do is work to change her mind or to show her that he's changed -- which is what he ultimately does. Therefore, her initial impression of him is irrelevant, since it's not a static one. In short, the entire threat to expose Greg's homosexuality is pointless and I'm confused as to why it's in the script. This is one of the subplots that was probably better illuminated in the novel or play.
Seeking Annette's confidence, Blaine discovers that the person who actually warned Annette about Sebastian was Cecile's mother, Bunny Caldwell. He passes this tidbit along. Although the news annoys Sebastian, he doesn't seem to act on it. He never says, "I'll sleep with Cecile to get back at Bunny" and there would have been no point in doing so because, again, Cecile was not an easy conquest. She was just easy, period. Knowing him, I think it would have been more interesting if he'd slept with Bunny, as his form of revenge. Yet, revenge doesn't seem to be his purpose. He ends up sleeping with Cecile seemingly for no other reason than that Kathryn repears her earlier request that he do so. This time, he says yes.
Not to be outdone by Sebastian's pointless plot pranks, Kathryn has been indulging in her own. She takes Cecile out, gets her tipsy and french kisses her, for no discernible reason. Sure, the move titilates the audience. Sarah and Selma created a scene that's still talked about today, but to what end? She tells Sebastian she needs him to whet Cecile's burgeoning sexual appetite, so maybe that's what she was doing as well. But there's no need. The overheated Cecile does upside down leg splits right under her male music teacher's nose. Literally. Her sexual appetite needs no whetting or wetting. It's raring to go, already. Furthermore, if Kathryn wants to subject Cecile to social ruin, why involve Sebastian at all. Simply pushing Cecile into the arms of her black music teacher, Ronald, is enough to scandalize Bunny Caldwell and her prejudiced social circle. Upon learning that they are romantically inclined, Bunny exclaims, "but he's so black!" and fires him on the spot. I would think that all Kathryn would have to do was spread the word about Ronald and Cecile on campus and the girl would be shunned by the entire blue-blooded college.
Of course, Kathryn doesn't like to get her hands dirty. She's revered by Bunny Caldwell and their peers. Unlike Sebastian, she's not a social outcast. She says she can't afford to be, because of her sex. That's why she keeps her cocaine concealed in the crucifix around her neck and, fingering it meaningfully, lets everyone know she takes comfort in God in times of stress. For Sebastian tarnishing his image, somehow enhances it. But a woman who sins is judged harshly and permanently. Kathryn takes pains to keep her handiwork hidden, but that only means she could have Sebastian blab the word about Ronald and Cecile rather than doing it herself.
True, Sebastian's callous handling of Cecile contrasts with his sincere feelings for Annette, helping to express the character's gradual metamorphosis. The problem is that Cecile is such a pratfalling caricature that you can't take her scenes seriously. She's not innocent, sympathetic or sensient. She can't add structure or context to any other part of the story.
Consequently, there's no logical reason for Sebastian to sleep with Cecile, but he does, pushing the awkward girl out of bed immediately afterwards. Selma Blair is quite funny in the role of slapstick dunce, but she's involved in comedy so over-the-top that it seems at odds with everyone else's performance. None of the other characters are walking into doors with tongue-lagging and eyes spinning stupidly.
While making time with Cecile, Sebastian is also making inroads on his bet. He's winning over Annette who sees cracks in his bad boy facade. He admits to Kathryn that Annette is also getting to him. Her wants to scoff at her wholesome allure, but can't quite do it. Making kooky faces he can't resist, she melts his sneers into smiles. In turn, she's no longer playing nonchalant herself. Whatever guard she put up has long fled. Sebastian makes his move. She says she's been saving herself for love, but then when it really comes along, she's not ready to act, is she? She's afraid. She accepts his challenge and is soon inviting him into her bed. He's the one who runs.
Back at home, Kathryn taunts him. His car will soon be hers, because Annette turned him down, didn't she? No, he informs her. It's just the opposite. Kathryn declares that that's even worse, if Annette was ready to sleep with him, but he couldn't close the deal. This is where I'd like insight. How does Kathryn really feel about this? Is she jealous because Sebastian's genuine feelings for Annette are deeper than his lust for Kathryn ever was. Kathryn has said that while it's easy enough to compromise herself and snag men, she inevitably loses them to ignorant and innocent girls like Cecile. Does she view Sebastian as another loss? Is she hurt? Is she mad? Or is she simply as amused by the exploits of others as ever? Does she want Sebastian back as her partner in crime or is she content to watch the lovesick fool hang himself? It's hard to tell, but she clearly takes delight in informing him that Annette has packed her things and left the home of Sebastian's aunt.
Sebastian runs after her, pulls her into his arms and they are soon sharing a night of tender passion in the film's most compelling scenes. Phillippe and Witherspoon were married the year this movie came out and it's not hard to imagine that Annette and Sebastian's believable intimacy sprang from real life emotion.
The morning after, Sebastian is still on cloud nine. So he bedded, Annette? Kathryn expects him to collect on his bet. Has he come to her to make "arrangements." Sebastian tells her he's no longer interested in anything she has to offer. She's not ostensibly angry or hurt, but orders him to break it off with Annette or she'll tell her about their bet. I don't know enough about her character to decide if she's doing this to keep Sebastian for herself or just for sport?
Of course, it doesn't matter. Sebastian could tell Annette the truth, since she suspected he was out to hang another notch on his belt in the first place. That shouldn't come as a real surprise to her. He can say that that started as his goal, but then he really fell for her and she should believe it. The forced break up is the largest plot device in a script that's full of them. Sebastian tells Annette that he doesn't love her, but since he's crying the entire time, it's hard to fathom why she believes him. Blackguards don't weep, generally. Despite this one's sobs, although Annette initially thought he was kidding about not loving her, she soon accepts it as true and orders him out of her life.
Distraught, he belatedly wants to explain everything to her, but she avoids him. He then leaves her his journal, so she can read everything herself and, hopefully, forgive him.
Realizing that Sebastian is not returning to their wicked fold, Kathryn calls Ronald (who happens to be a former liaison of her own) who is now paired with Cecile and asks him to come over. He declines and she falsely (and tearfully) claims that Sebastian has hit her. It's urgent that she see Ronald and -- it's related to Cecile. Though she says no more than that, Ronald concludes that Sebastian has slept with Cecile and runs off. Of course, the plot's persistent situations premised on failed reputations make it clear that the movie is based on a much older story, created in a bygone age when one romantic indiscretion could result in a lifetime of exile. Otherwise, it would make no sense for Ronald to rush off in a rage when he doesn't know when Sebastian slept with Cecile (before or after she and Ronald became a couple) or if he did it for improper reasons. There's really nothing, under today's standards, for Ronald to be that mad about.
We get a stony stare from Kathryn, but unless I know what she wanted, I can't tell what she's lost: the game, her pawn, her soul mate? If her feelings are conflicted, then let us see them clash. Don't just leave us with her silence.
A rejected Sebastian is leaving Annette's. She's reading his journal, taking in the unvarnished truth and considering forgiveness. Ronald is on his way to hear Kathryn's full accusations against her stepbrother. These worlds collide on a busy street. Ronald sees Sebastian, lunges at him. Sebastian is unexpectedly getting in a few good punches of his own. I didn't know they taught fisticuffs in prep school. Annette screams at them to stop fighting and tries to intervene. She's knocked into the street. Sebastian lunges to save her and, in pushing her away from an oncoming car, he's hit himself. "I love you" he whispers to Annette who holds his broken frame. "I love you too."
I flashback to the wheelchair we saw him in earlier, during the indoor pool scene. I think it foreshadowed the fact that he ends up paralyzed and can hardly believe it when it turns out he's dead. Really dead. I keep waiting for a twist, perhaps this is a trick to indict Kathryn, but it turns out the funeral everyone is attending is the genuine article.
As the mourners assemble, we find Kathryn in the restroom, having just snorted a line of cocaine from her crucifix necklace. Annette surprises her by emerging from a stall and wondering if she's all right. Patting the cross, Kathryn says she's relying on God during this difficult time. Did Annette know Sebastian, Kathryn asks? You could say that. Left alone, Kathryn just tidies herself. We don't know if she's feeling guilt, grief or satisfaction at Sebastian's passing. She enters the gathering and takes the pulpit to eulogize Sebastian when suddenly there's rustling and snickering, then everyone runs outside. Furious, Kathryn rails at their rudeness then joins them outside to find out what's going on. It turns out that everyone is (speed)reading a copy of Sebastian's journal. Annette has xeroxed and distributed hundreds of them. Even Kathryn's parents have them and now know everything that Kathryn has done, as she and her dastardly deeds take center stage in the diary's illustrated pages. Her stepfather verifies the truth of Sebastian's writings by grabbing the cross from around Kathryn's neck and finding the cocaine inside, just where Sebastian said it was. We leave Kathryn to her humiliation.
We next see a carefree Annette driving down the highway in Sebastian's prized car, wind in her hair, sunglasses on. Sebastian's leather bound journal rests in the back seat, a satisfied smile on her face and all her memories of him in her heart, we know that Kathryn's lost the bet once and for all.
I don't know what to feel here. Although, they had nice scenes, the movie was too vacuous to take Annette and Sebastian's "love" seriously. He was just as heartless as Kathryn and hadn't been converted long enough for me to mourn his death. As part of a black comedy, the ending wasn't particularly humourous and since Kathryn's feelings were largely shielded from us, her comeuppance wasn't as triumphant as it could have been or, as long-lived, since we quickly cut away from the funeral while everyone's reaction to her exposure was still occurring.
The movie delivered on some smirks and sexual posing, but hardly much else. The intentions seemed less cruel than kooky. Sebastian and Kathryn really aren't apathetic enough for this to be a study on the devoid detachment of monied youth. They're pretty easily flustered to be as jaded as the story would suggest. Presenting languid indifference as a lifestyle is a great way to condemn the wealthy, but that's not what we get. Even the way penetrable Sebastian conceded to Kathryn, much less Annette, suggested that he was never a true sociopath to begin with. Kathryn might have been one, but we didn't see enough of her to tell. Phillippe and Gellar are good together, so we should have been given more of their complicated story and less of the facile Annette/Sebastian relationship. At one point Kathryn remarks that Sebastian doesn't love her anymore and I'd never know he had or that she thought he had. Presented with a stronger motive for her actions, her sense of having been scorned and abandoned, they would have resonated more with the audience. As it is, her desultory meddling gave me little to sink my teeth in. Fill her with anger, ice or misguided pain, but not ambivalence.
I think the film's remembered most for Sarah Michelle Gellar having played so far against type and, maybe because I'd heard about that going in, I was waiting for an acting turn or tour de force that never materialized. It was fun to watch the four leads in this piece work, but only because in the 14 years since this movie was released they've all turned in much finer and fuller performances elsewhere. Even so, it was entertaining to see them nearer the beginning of their careers. Maybe if I'd witnessed this then, it would have left a more indelible impression than it can in retrospect.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Iron Man 3 (2013)
While not awful by any definition, this installment just seemed useless. It didn't add anything to the series in terms of plot, special effects or acting and while Guy Pearce and Ben Kingsley seem intriguing as villains on paper, the irony that they played nerdy and stoner losers, respectively, is somewhat of a one joke pony. If either had brought real menace to their character, it would have been more interesting.
It's been established that Tony Stark could already jump into an Iron Man suit on the fly, literally. Now, he has perfected the technology to the point where the suit actually flies to him. Hand, leg, and face armor parts travel from wherever they are, soaring through the air at Tony's command (he communicates by earpiece with Jarvis, the robot control system, which puts Siri to abject shame) and latching onto his body -- or anyone else's if he so orders.
Alternatively, Tony can remotely control an entire suit. No human even has to be inside of it. So, he can protect and attack from a distance, as long as he has access to Jarvis.
When the movie opens he and Pepper are now living together. He's embraced monogamy. Their main relationship problems stem with his obsession with his iron suits. After the Avengers events and the destruction in New York (they have now moved to Malibu) Tony has become even more neurotic. He has anxiety attacks remembering the defeats of the past and suffers from acute sleep deprivation which bring a dangerous edge to his genius experiments. His brilliance is not compromised, but his judgment is.
We flashback to New Year's Eve 1999 where he had a one night stand with a scientist, Maya, who created plants that could regenerate themselves, sprouting new stems via a white hot firing process. Tony thought the "botany" was cute, but was more interested in the lovemaking. Meanwhile, an outcast inventor, Aldrich Killian, waits to meet with Tony. Tony humors him, takes his business card, but then stands him up. Some time after that, we learn that Killian and Maya found each other. Two great tastes that taste deadly together. Killian has learned to apply Maya's plant regeneration process to humans. They grow new limbs, which not only possess inhuman strength, but wield excessive heat that not only burns, but eventually explodes everything they touch. While the regeneration seems to turn once-decent people into killing machines, it's not clear why this happens. Killian has also refined the ability to project a person's brain as a 3-D image, a hologram. If you pinch his arm, you can actually see his brain react. A trick her performs for Pepper. So, he's engaging in some form of mind control with his regenerated minions, but that parts not clear. Later when he kidnaps Pepper, someone upon whom he once had a crush, he subjects her to the regeneration process. It sets her limbs afire, but doesn't make her a murderous robot as it does the others. I'm not quite sure why that is, except for the fact that the process was incomplete and Pepper was rescued while she was still in Phase I.
It's silly any way you slice it. No one wants to lose an arm or a leg, but prosthetics have improved to such an extent (look at Oscar Pistorius' races) that you don't have to submit to evil to regain your physical abilities. That's why one scene where we realize that the Vice President of the United States is a Killian ally because his wheelchair-bound granddaughter needs a new leg is absolutely ludicrous. This is not Heidi's cousin Clara. Amputees are no longer "cripples". No VP has to destroy the world just so his granddaughter can walk again. Do you hear that Joe Biden?
The illogical plot unfolds when Killian's deranged robots attack Tony's best friend Happy Hogan outside of Grauman's chinese theater. Happy was suspicious of Killian's visit to Pepper at Stark Headquarters, but Tony ignored his concerns. Hogan ends up in a coma and Grauman's is destroyed, causing an angry Tony to give a press conference vowing revenge. He gives out his home address in a "come and get me" challenge. Killian obliges and disintegrates Stark's Malibu home before Pepper can get them moved out. This is the only superhero franchise where the protagonist's own home is repeatedly destroyed in scenes that last forever. They could make a 2-hour montage movie just from the battles that take place in Tony's lair. In this latest Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, Stark saves Pepper (and Maya) and then goes on the run to Tennessee. He is presumed dead, but lets Pepper know he is safe, before using the anonymity that "death" brings him to catch Killian offguard and bring him down.
Of course, there's a hitch in this plan when Killian (with Maya's help) captures Pepper.
After that, there's more fighting and fire than story. Some suspense is generated by the fact that the Iron Man suit (and Jarvis) ran out of electrical power and need to be repowered, leaving Tony rather defenseless in the interim. Tony hides Jarvis in the garage of a boy scientist who helps power the weakened Jarvis back up and Tony must skulk around Tennessee without his armor, using his wits and Macgyver-like improvisational skills to avoid Killian's automatons instead.
But once the suit is back online, it's on. Between Tony's armor and his friend Colonel James Rhodes' the iron man suits fly them all over the globe, to Killian's hide out, to Air Force One and Washington, D.C. Finally, Jarvis calls in back up (all the extra iron man suits stored in the basement of the razed Malibu home). They fly from California to the scene and help Iron Man and Colonel Rhodes defeat Killian and restore order to the world.
Although, Pepper had fire coursing through her body and superhuman strength due to the excruciating injections that Killian subjected her to, Tony is able to reverse the process and she becomes normal again, inspiring him to want to do the same. He gives Jarvis the order to self-destruct all of the Iron Man suits. He throws the disc shaped generator that causes his heart to pump, into the Pacific ocean (in a manner some have called environmentally unsound)and perfects a simpler pacemaker. While Pepper has indicated that this return to basics is what she wants, I'm not sure why. Tony has not just saved her life with his Iron Man suits, but they protected the president and the world as well. Yeah, so they occasionally short circuit and wake her up in the middle of the night, but that's a small price to pay for world peace, I would think.
As Tony walks away from his discarded armor he says he doesn't need it because, "I am Iron Man." Well, ok, but you can't fly. You aren't indestructible. You have a panic attack that leaves you crouching in the fetal position every time someone mentions New York City. When it comes to saving the universe, I'd rather have the suit back. I'm just not sure how the two hours that preceded the movie's "back to nature" message actually corroborate it.
While the idea of magical, omnipotent suits flying to your rescue and playing offense even when unmanned is an enticing one, it actually works to anti-climatic effect in a story. We all know the superhero will prevail in the end, but we want it to be a good fight. All of these invincible Iron Man suits rather deplete the story's sense of challenge. Maybe that's why they were ultimately destroyed, to send Tony back to a more vulnerable, underdog state for the next sequel.
This go round, if you want to see RDJ play an erudite, but dissolute prodigy, whose brain is both manic and dazzling, reciting humorous lines with glib nonchalance, rent one of the Sherlock Holmes films. Your imagination would be better served.
It's been established that Tony Stark could already jump into an Iron Man suit on the fly, literally. Now, he has perfected the technology to the point where the suit actually flies to him. Hand, leg, and face armor parts travel from wherever they are, soaring through the air at Tony's command (he communicates by earpiece with Jarvis, the robot control system, which puts Siri to abject shame) and latching onto his body -- or anyone else's if he so orders.
Alternatively, Tony can remotely control an entire suit. No human even has to be inside of it. So, he can protect and attack from a distance, as long as he has access to Jarvis.
When the movie opens he and Pepper are now living together. He's embraced monogamy. Their main relationship problems stem with his obsession with his iron suits. After the Avengers events and the destruction in New York (they have now moved to Malibu) Tony has become even more neurotic. He has anxiety attacks remembering the defeats of the past and suffers from acute sleep deprivation which bring a dangerous edge to his genius experiments. His brilliance is not compromised, but his judgment is.
We flashback to New Year's Eve 1999 where he had a one night stand with a scientist, Maya, who created plants that could regenerate themselves, sprouting new stems via a white hot firing process. Tony thought the "botany" was cute, but was more interested in the lovemaking. Meanwhile, an outcast inventor, Aldrich Killian, waits to meet with Tony. Tony humors him, takes his business card, but then stands him up. Some time after that, we learn that Killian and Maya found each other. Two great tastes that taste deadly together. Killian has learned to apply Maya's plant regeneration process to humans. They grow new limbs, which not only possess inhuman strength, but wield excessive heat that not only burns, but eventually explodes everything they touch. While the regeneration seems to turn once-decent people into killing machines, it's not clear why this happens. Killian has also refined the ability to project a person's brain as a 3-D image, a hologram. If you pinch his arm, you can actually see his brain react. A trick her performs for Pepper. So, he's engaging in some form of mind control with his regenerated minions, but that parts not clear. Later when he kidnaps Pepper, someone upon whom he once had a crush, he subjects her to the regeneration process. It sets her limbs afire, but doesn't make her a murderous robot as it does the others. I'm not quite sure why that is, except for the fact that the process was incomplete and Pepper was rescued while she was still in Phase I.
It's silly any way you slice it. No one wants to lose an arm or a leg, but prosthetics have improved to such an extent (look at Oscar Pistorius' races) that you don't have to submit to evil to regain your physical abilities. That's why one scene where we realize that the Vice President of the United States is a Killian ally because his wheelchair-bound granddaughter needs a new leg is absolutely ludicrous. This is not Heidi's cousin Clara. Amputees are no longer "cripples". No VP has to destroy the world just so his granddaughter can walk again. Do you hear that Joe Biden?
The illogical plot unfolds when Killian's deranged robots attack Tony's best friend Happy Hogan outside of Grauman's chinese theater. Happy was suspicious of Killian's visit to Pepper at Stark Headquarters, but Tony ignored his concerns. Hogan ends up in a coma and Grauman's is destroyed, causing an angry Tony to give a press conference vowing revenge. He gives out his home address in a "come and get me" challenge. Killian obliges and disintegrates Stark's Malibu home before Pepper can get them moved out. This is the only superhero franchise where the protagonist's own home is repeatedly destroyed in scenes that last forever. They could make a 2-hour montage movie just from the battles that take place in Tony's lair. In this latest Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, Stark saves Pepper (and Maya) and then goes on the run to Tennessee. He is presumed dead, but lets Pepper know he is safe, before using the anonymity that "death" brings him to catch Killian offguard and bring him down.
Of course, there's a hitch in this plan when Killian (with Maya's help) captures Pepper.
After that, there's more fighting and fire than story. Some suspense is generated by the fact that the Iron Man suit (and Jarvis) ran out of electrical power and need to be repowered, leaving Tony rather defenseless in the interim. Tony hides Jarvis in the garage of a boy scientist who helps power the weakened Jarvis back up and Tony must skulk around Tennessee without his armor, using his wits and Macgyver-like improvisational skills to avoid Killian's automatons instead.
But once the suit is back online, it's on. Between Tony's armor and his friend Colonel James Rhodes' the iron man suits fly them all over the globe, to Killian's hide out, to Air Force One and Washington, D.C. Finally, Jarvis calls in back up (all the extra iron man suits stored in the basement of the razed Malibu home). They fly from California to the scene and help Iron Man and Colonel Rhodes defeat Killian and restore order to the world.
Although, Pepper had fire coursing through her body and superhuman strength due to the excruciating injections that Killian subjected her to, Tony is able to reverse the process and she becomes normal again, inspiring him to want to do the same. He gives Jarvis the order to self-destruct all of the Iron Man suits. He throws the disc shaped generator that causes his heart to pump, into the Pacific ocean (in a manner some have called environmentally unsound)and perfects a simpler pacemaker. While Pepper has indicated that this return to basics is what she wants, I'm not sure why. Tony has not just saved her life with his Iron Man suits, but they protected the president and the world as well. Yeah, so they occasionally short circuit and wake her up in the middle of the night, but that's a small price to pay for world peace, I would think.
As Tony walks away from his discarded armor he says he doesn't need it because, "I am Iron Man." Well, ok, but you can't fly. You aren't indestructible. You have a panic attack that leaves you crouching in the fetal position every time someone mentions New York City. When it comes to saving the universe, I'd rather have the suit back. I'm just not sure how the two hours that preceded the movie's "back to nature" message actually corroborate it.
While the idea of magical, omnipotent suits flying to your rescue and playing offense even when unmanned is an enticing one, it actually works to anti-climatic effect in a story. We all know the superhero will prevail in the end, but we want it to be a good fight. All of these invincible Iron Man suits rather deplete the story's sense of challenge. Maybe that's why they were ultimately destroyed, to send Tony back to a more vulnerable, underdog state for the next sequel.
This go round, if you want to see RDJ play an erudite, but dissolute prodigy, whose brain is both manic and dazzling, reciting humorous lines with glib nonchalance, rent one of the Sherlock Holmes films. Your imagination would be better served.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Oblivion (2013)
This is the first new release I've seen since Roger Ebert died. I'll miss being able to turn to his review.
I found Oblivion a pleasant movie, offering tepid enjoyment. I was never bored, but never engrossed either. The most interesting characters (Victoria and Sally) had static roles, both emotionally and physically. In the lead, Tom Cruise, as Jack Harper, was likable, but unoriginal and Morgan Freeman has gotten to the point where he is only asked to play himself, a commanding type, rather than a person.
We're told that scavengers came and destroyed Earth's moon decades ago. The planet began dying and everyone evacuated to a space satellite, Titan. The evacuees still have water stations on earth that need to be protected from alien scavengers out to destroy humans. There are drones roaming the earth, killing the scavengers and protecting the water supply. Jack Harper is a drone repairman, Tech-49, sent to fix those drones knocked off line by scavenger attacks.
His memory has been wiped clean for this job, so that if the scavengers capture him he won't be able to tell them anything. I'm not sure why he would trust a government that would wipe away his mind. He has dreams of fleeting visions, a woman whose face he knows, but whose name he can't remember. He recalls being with her on top of the Empire State building, now a ruin.
He lives in a high tech module, used as mission control by Jack and his lover/coworker, Victoria. She communicates by video with "Sally" their director based on Titan, while Jack is in the field repairing drones and occasionally being attacked by scavengers. Each day Sally asks Victoria if she and Jack are "an efficient team?" Each day Victoria assures her that they are. And we're left to ponder what this mechanical phrase means, as Jack does. Victoria's memory has also been swept clean and she does not seem to be plagued by the inchoate memories that haunt Jack. He still thinks about what she won't. They will be going to Titan in two weeks, to be reconnected with civilization and she can't wait. A picture of the happy couple decorates the module, Jack's face leaning into hers. Jack goes through the motions of romantic intimacy, but he can't muster enthusiasm for a return to Titan -- a place he can't remember because his mind has been wiped clean. Instead, he feels an inexplicable tie to earth and doesn't want to leave it. Victoria has little patience for his sentimentality. She never leaves the module, doesn't see the remnants of Earth and doesn't want him to do anything to ruin their scheduled return to the new world that is waiting, light years away from the big blue marble's corpse.
Sally has specific assignments for Jack and he's not supposed to go off course, especially not into areas marked "radiation zone." Still, sometimes when he leaves on his daily repair missions, Jack cuts off radio communication with Victoria and pokes around Earth's ruins, collecting artifacts. He moves through long-abandoned structures, piecing together the world that fell apart. The whole planet is ground zero. In a crrumbled library, he uncovers a large globe, a representation of what used to be.
He builds himself a little home, a shack near a still running stream. Snuggled in a patch of green grass, he makes his own museum. He stores his finds there (sunglasses -- though not the Ray-bans Joel Goodson wore in Risky Business). Books. Poems he recites in his head. Vinyl records, a stuffed monkey. He turns on the music, sits by the water and tries to remember the things he can't fully forget. He nurtures a plant and, when it blooms, he brings it back as a gift to Victoria, to brighten their module which is beautiful, but completely artificial. They eat tube and powdered food by candlelight and luxuriate in a pool, which is merely a basin attached to their space home. He yearns for something real, but Victoria immediately tosses the plant out. It could be full of toxins. He knows the rules, she scolds.
On the job, he narrowly eludes scavengers and gets the feeling that they want to capture rather than kill him. He finds this puzzling, but Victoria simply says that whatever they want him for, they can't have him. He's hers and they will soon be leaving together. For Titan.
One day he follows a scavenger signal to a space ship wreck. It's the Odyssey and there are still survivors, in a place where Titan ordered Jack not to patrol. He's exploring without authorization and without back up. The downed crew members have been encased in protective capsules for 60 years, with breathing fluid in their lungs to keep them alive. He recognized one of the survivors as the woman in his dreams. When Titan drones follow him and kill those who lay sleeping in the other capsules, Jack protects the woman's with his own life. The drones can't shoot her, without killing him, so they back off. He takes the remaining capsule back to his module and he and Victoria revive the woman, Julia, who recognizes Jack, but is shocked when they tell her that the ship went down 60 years ago and the world she knew has disappeared. Victoria's possessiveness with Jack causes Julia to withdraw further. The two engage in silent rivalry. Jack senses the tension, but doesn't admit he recognizes Julia.
He asks Victoria if she ever has memories, thoughts that creep past their forced amnesia? Does she know Julia? Victoria doesn't answer, except to say she wants her gone by morning. If he found her through a scavenger signal, there's no telling who she is or who she's working for. But she's human, not alien, Jack counters, which makes him wonder why the drones who are supposed to preserve human life, tried to kill her? Victoria's not interested in such questions. She only wants to get through the night, then get rid of Julia.
At dawn, Jack finds Julia gazing out of the window and into the universe. She tells him that she needs to find out what happened to her ship. There's a flight recorder on the wreck and she needs to go recover it. He would do the same, she says. She needs to know what happened on her last mission, for herself and for him too. He leaves with her and a panicked Victoria wakes to find them gone.
When she speaks to Sally, she covers for Jack and, without letting Sally know he defied orders by patrolling out of bonds, she nervously explains that she's just lost his signal and wonders if Sally can send back up drones to search for him. Are you and Jack an efficient team, Sally asks. Of course, Victoria assures her. They're great! Sally says she will send the back up drones.
Back on earth, Julia and Jack recover the flight recorder, but are captured by scavengers, who moved them to their headquarters, an abandoned library. They tie Jack up. At first they keep themselves shrouded in darkness (for reasons that serve the drama, but not the story) and Jack only hears Beech's (Morgan Freeman's voice) but then the lights are on and he sees a group of bedraggled humans surrounding him. The masks and gear they wore when he caught brief glimpses of scavengers were just uniforms designed to help them avoid drone radar. It gave them an alien appearance, but Beech assures Jack that they're as mortal as he is. Jack insists that all the humans are on Titan, but Beech says that there is no Titan. He's been lied to. He's not working for earth's survivors. He's working for the race that wants them all dead. Beech has a disabled drone. He wants Jack to use his technical repair skills to reprogram the drone and send it back up to "Titan" to kill the aliens and save surviving human refugees. He saw Jack scavenging through the planet's rubble, saving things, relating to the civilization that had been, and Beech thought he could make Jack understand that the "scavengers" were not the enemy. Jack refuses to listen, to believe and Beech's angry assistant (Jaime from Game of Thrones, who barely has 2 minutes of screen time) who thinks Jack's not worthy of trust, wants to kill him immediately. When they put a gun to Julia's head to threaten him, Jack begs for her life, before he's knocked unconscious. When he comes to, he's surprised that Beech gives him back his space bike and his gun and let's him go. Beech hopes that Jack will return to help them, to prove Jaime, uh, Sykes wrong. As Julia and Jack leave on the bike, a bitter Sykes asks Beech what makes him think that Jack is different. "She does," Beech answers, his gaze on Julia.
When they visit the fallen Empire State building, Julia tells him he proposed on the Observation Deck. He put a ring in front of a telescope viewer and bade her to look through it and see her future. The missing memory pieces come flooding back to Jack. His thoughts finish the story that Julia is telling him. How she said yes. The ring he gave her? She still carries it on a necklace around her neck. She pulls it out to show Jack and they embrace.
Meanwhile, Sally's drone has located Jack and Victoria can locate him on her monitor. She sees Julia in his arms. When he and Julia return, she locks them out of the module. Speaking into her earpiece, she tells Sally that Jack has broken the rules. He's found a survivor who has compromised him, impaired his judgment, made him unstable. Are you and Jack an efficient team, is the inevitable question. "No, we are not." I don't know what effect Victoria thinks this will have. Is she really willing to have Jack killed because she saw him hugging Julia. She hasn't even given him a chance to do much more than that, but she sense that even before he found Julia, he belonged to her. "It was always her," she tells Jack. Sally's drones come to the module and they fire as Jack begs Victoria to escape with him and Julia. She won't and is ruthlessly killed by the drone. Then, to his shock, unconcerned with Victoria's demise, Sally asks Jack to come to Titan with Julia. She can be his new partner, after she's been prepped (i.e. had her mind erased) of course.
Jack and Julia flee. They run out of fuel and see a downed drone. A repairman comes to fix it and when Jack tries to approach him the man attacks. As they wrestle, Jack sees that he is fighting himself. The man is identical to him, only he's Tech 52, not Tech 49. Jack tries to call out words of reassurance to the mirror man, but he won't listen. Each struggles to disarm the other. The guns go off. Jack is only able to distract the other him when the lookalike sees Julia and has the same partial memories of her that Jack did. I think this might be helpful. If the replica loves Julia like Jack does, can't Jack use this to gain to gain his cooperation?
When his twin is caught off guard by the sight of Julia Jack knocks him out and ties him up. It is only then that he realizes that a stray bullet has hit Julia in the stomach. He moves her into a nearby cave and decides to take Tech 52's space ship to try to get help. The space ship recognizes him as its owner "Jack Harper" and flies him back to his module, Module 52, which is identical to the one Jack just escaped. It even has its own Victoria, with the familiar photograph on display framed by their love. Given a second chance to save her, Jack asks this Victoria to come out into the field with him. Let him show her earth. She refuses. She's tired of having this conversation. He knows the rules. He does and knows she won't break them. He gets the medical kit and leaves, returning to doctor Julia. The doppelganger has broken loose from his bindings and is nowhere to be found. Jack leaves with Julia, but is disheartened to realize he is only a clone.
When they encounter Beech again, he tells Jack that Titan created 1000 Jacks. All of them had his technical and leadership skills, but none of them had his soul. Before technology improved and they built the robot drones, Titan sent these Jacks to hunt the scavengers. The scavengers avoided or destroyed them all, but then Beech saw Jack, this Jack, cherishing the rubble, saving old books, risking his life for Julia's and knew that he was different. This Jack didn't only have knowledge. He had a heart. The heart of their commander, the original Jack. Jack was one of them. He was sent on a mission with Julia -- and Victoria -- and their ship went down. Knowing that Titan is the enemy, Jack works with the scavengers to build a drone that will destroy it.
On a break, he takes Julia to visit his shack by the stream. She reaches for him, but he insists that he's not who she thinks he is, just a copy. The man she married is dead. Julia demurs. His memories are Jack's. His memories are theirs and they still live. And this place . . . it's just like the place he described to her once. He told her he'd build her a house by the meadow, where they would grow old and fat together. How romantic of him, Jack laughs. He told her they would die there and the world would forget them, but they'd be together. That's what he said. "I remember," Jack replies. They make love. In the morning he says he'd wanted to live in that shack forever. He still can, Julia exclaims. No, he has to fight Titan with Beech. "Promise me we'll be back," Julia makes him pledge, before they leave for battle.
As Jack and the scavengers finish the drone, they are attacked by Titan drones before they can launch it. They ward off the Titan robots, but lose their own. Beech is devastated. He says he wishes he could have gone up to Titan with the drone. Jack says that would have been a suicide mission, but Beech said it would have been worth it just to see the alien master's face. They still have a space ship. Jack could fly up to Titan in that and destroy it that way. But Titan -- whatever it is -- will never let him through. Julia says that it will if she goes with Jack. After all "Sally" invited him to bring Julia up to Titan before, so that she could be transformed into his new "efficient" partner. Jack protests that he won't let Julia go to her death with him, but she insists.
He puts her back in her capsule and then we see him load a capsule onto the space ship and take off. As he flies, he listens to the flight recorder from Julia's crashed ship and has flashbacks. He learns that HE was the pilot on that ship and Victoria was his co-pilot. The other crew members were in their capsules in back, while he and Victoria were in the cabin. Victoria leans in close to a surprised Jack and snaps a picture of them together at the dashboard. It's the same picture from the modules. It looked like he was nuzzling her in the photo, but now we know that was a facade. His head turned into her face for the length of the snapshot, only by accident.
This makes me wonder if Victoria's memories were erased after all. She wanted him then just as the Victoria clones did. She might have had the same niggling memories as he did, but since they recalled a world where he belonged to another woman, she was happy to repress them. As a replica, she felt need and jealousy, but not real love. She was soulless just like the Jack clones that Beech described.
Now, listening to the flight recorder, Jack relives the last minutes that Victoria -- and he -- lived as humans. They were going to Titan with their crew, but as they neared they discovered that they were under attack. At that point, fearing for Julia, Jack decided to eject the sleeping compartment with the crew members. It would return to earth. If he survived, he would parachute down to join the other survivors later. He orders Victoria to get into one of the capsules. She refuses. She insists that she will not leave his side. There's no time to argue. Jack runs in back and bids adieu to the sleeping Julia. "Dream of us," he murmurs, as he ejects her.
He takes his seat next to Victoria and as they head to their fatal encounter with Titan, the flight recorder ends abruptly.
Back in the present world, Jack is once again flying to meet Titan. As his ship passes through the alien antechamber he sees human clones in glass containers, floating like fetuses. Jack clones. Victoria clones. When the real Jack and Victoria were killed 60 years ago, "Titan" preserved and endlessly copied their dna and trained/tricked them into continuing to ravage the planet that Titan had taken over. Titan appears to be nothing but a massive, geometrical black box, speaking with "Sally's" disembodied voice. It demands to know why Jack has come. He says that he is bringing the survivor to Titan, just like Sally wanted. But Sally's sensors show that his heart rate has quickened. "Oh, it's just because I'm glad to see you." His body readings reveal that he's lying. Why has really come. Sally, it, demands to know the truth and Jack must answer with drones trained on his ship, ready to fire. He says that he's come, bearing this survivor, because he realizes that it's the only way to save their species. Unaware that Jack now knows that the scavengers are his true species, Sally checks his vital signs and sees that his answer is truthful, believes that he still believes that Titan inhabitants are human.
As Jack opens his ship, Sally realizes that the "survivor" in his capsule is not the one she expected. It's Beeches, who has happily traveled there to witness Titan's death, even if it means his own. He and Jack fire and Titan explodes. Flames and debris rain down onto the earth and the scavengers below rejoice. Beech's mission to free them has been accomplished.
Alone at the shack by the stream, Julia emerges from her capsule. A flashback tells us that when Jack switched Beech's capsule for hers and left her to live, he touched the glass that encased her sleeping soul and said, "dream of us." Just as he had before ejecting her sleep capsule from another ship, sixty years earlier.
Three years pass and Julia is gardening outside of her dream shack, a toddler by her side. Through narration we hear Jack say he's been searching for her, wondering if she thinks of him, sees him in the child. The little girl points and when Julia looks up she sees scavengers. They have found her. This only makes me wonder why she didn't get in touch with them before. She knew there were other human survivors. Why raise her child outside of remaining civilization, when she could have searched for them. For that matter, I know Jack loved his little love shack and all, but why drop her off there in isolation, to give birth alone? The scavengers at least had technology in case of an emergency. Maybe he reasoned Titan drones could find her in that location, because they had already intercepted the scavenger headquarters and would return -- should he and Beech fail to destroy them.
Anyway, as we hear Jack narrating, we see him emerge from the scavenger crowd and move towards Julia and the child. "Who is he?" The little girl wonders. It's Jack, but not Tech-49, not the clone who died with Beech. This is Tech-52, the one who fought Jack, was tied up and then escaped. He says that he knew he would find this house, because he knew Jack 49 had built it. He built it because that's what Tech - 52 would have built too. Jack is him. He is Jack. "He is me."
Fine, but when Jack 52 was doing the voice over and wondered if their child reminded Julia of him, how did he know that Julia was pregnant? I don't think she was far enough along for even the other Jack (#49) to have realized that, when he left on his death mission. Are there other clones on earth, besides the two we knew about? What about the Victoria in module 52? What became of her? I suppose I might find the answer to small questions like this if I read the comics, from which the Oblivions screenplay was created, but I'm not intrigued enough by the story to explore further. I'll take the happy ending offered and leave Jack and Julia at that.
I found Oblivion a pleasant movie, offering tepid enjoyment. I was never bored, but never engrossed either. The most interesting characters (Victoria and Sally) had static roles, both emotionally and physically. In the lead, Tom Cruise, as Jack Harper, was likable, but unoriginal and Morgan Freeman has gotten to the point where he is only asked to play himself, a commanding type, rather than a person.
We're told that scavengers came and destroyed Earth's moon decades ago. The planet began dying and everyone evacuated to a space satellite, Titan. The evacuees still have water stations on earth that need to be protected from alien scavengers out to destroy humans. There are drones roaming the earth, killing the scavengers and protecting the water supply. Jack Harper is a drone repairman, Tech-49, sent to fix those drones knocked off line by scavenger attacks.
His memory has been wiped clean for this job, so that if the scavengers capture him he won't be able to tell them anything. I'm not sure why he would trust a government that would wipe away his mind. He has dreams of fleeting visions, a woman whose face he knows, but whose name he can't remember. He recalls being with her on top of the Empire State building, now a ruin.
He lives in a high tech module, used as mission control by Jack and his lover/coworker, Victoria. She communicates by video with "Sally" their director based on Titan, while Jack is in the field repairing drones and occasionally being attacked by scavengers. Each day Sally asks Victoria if she and Jack are "an efficient team?" Each day Victoria assures her that they are. And we're left to ponder what this mechanical phrase means, as Jack does. Victoria's memory has also been swept clean and she does not seem to be plagued by the inchoate memories that haunt Jack. He still thinks about what she won't. They will be going to Titan in two weeks, to be reconnected with civilization and she can't wait. A picture of the happy couple decorates the module, Jack's face leaning into hers. Jack goes through the motions of romantic intimacy, but he can't muster enthusiasm for a return to Titan -- a place he can't remember because his mind has been wiped clean. Instead, he feels an inexplicable tie to earth and doesn't want to leave it. Victoria has little patience for his sentimentality. She never leaves the module, doesn't see the remnants of Earth and doesn't want him to do anything to ruin their scheduled return to the new world that is waiting, light years away from the big blue marble's corpse.
Sally has specific assignments for Jack and he's not supposed to go off course, especially not into areas marked "radiation zone." Still, sometimes when he leaves on his daily repair missions, Jack cuts off radio communication with Victoria and pokes around Earth's ruins, collecting artifacts. He moves through long-abandoned structures, piecing together the world that fell apart. The whole planet is ground zero. In a crrumbled library, he uncovers a large globe, a representation of what used to be.
He builds himself a little home, a shack near a still running stream. Snuggled in a patch of green grass, he makes his own museum. He stores his finds there (sunglasses -- though not the Ray-bans Joel Goodson wore in Risky Business). Books. Poems he recites in his head. Vinyl records, a stuffed monkey. He turns on the music, sits by the water and tries to remember the things he can't fully forget. He nurtures a plant and, when it blooms, he brings it back as a gift to Victoria, to brighten their module which is beautiful, but completely artificial. They eat tube and powdered food by candlelight and luxuriate in a pool, which is merely a basin attached to their space home. He yearns for something real, but Victoria immediately tosses the plant out. It could be full of toxins. He knows the rules, she scolds.
On the job, he narrowly eludes scavengers and gets the feeling that they want to capture rather than kill him. He finds this puzzling, but Victoria simply says that whatever they want him for, they can't have him. He's hers and they will soon be leaving together. For Titan.
One day he follows a scavenger signal to a space ship wreck. It's the Odyssey and there are still survivors, in a place where Titan ordered Jack not to patrol. He's exploring without authorization and without back up. The downed crew members have been encased in protective capsules for 60 years, with breathing fluid in their lungs to keep them alive. He recognized one of the survivors as the woman in his dreams. When Titan drones follow him and kill those who lay sleeping in the other capsules, Jack protects the woman's with his own life. The drones can't shoot her, without killing him, so they back off. He takes the remaining capsule back to his module and he and Victoria revive the woman, Julia, who recognizes Jack, but is shocked when they tell her that the ship went down 60 years ago and the world she knew has disappeared. Victoria's possessiveness with Jack causes Julia to withdraw further. The two engage in silent rivalry. Jack senses the tension, but doesn't admit he recognizes Julia.
He asks Victoria if she ever has memories, thoughts that creep past their forced amnesia? Does she know Julia? Victoria doesn't answer, except to say she wants her gone by morning. If he found her through a scavenger signal, there's no telling who she is or who she's working for. But she's human, not alien, Jack counters, which makes him wonder why the drones who are supposed to preserve human life, tried to kill her? Victoria's not interested in such questions. She only wants to get through the night, then get rid of Julia.
At dawn, Jack finds Julia gazing out of the window and into the universe. She tells him that she needs to find out what happened to her ship. There's a flight recorder on the wreck and she needs to go recover it. He would do the same, she says. She needs to know what happened on her last mission, for herself and for him too. He leaves with her and a panicked Victoria wakes to find them gone.
When she speaks to Sally, she covers for Jack and, without letting Sally know he defied orders by patrolling out of bonds, she nervously explains that she's just lost his signal and wonders if Sally can send back up drones to search for him. Are you and Jack an efficient team, Sally asks. Of course, Victoria assures her. They're great! Sally says she will send the back up drones.
Back on earth, Julia and Jack recover the flight recorder, but are captured by scavengers, who moved them to their headquarters, an abandoned library. They tie Jack up. At first they keep themselves shrouded in darkness (for reasons that serve the drama, but not the story) and Jack only hears Beech's (Morgan Freeman's voice) but then the lights are on and he sees a group of bedraggled humans surrounding him. The masks and gear they wore when he caught brief glimpses of scavengers were just uniforms designed to help them avoid drone radar. It gave them an alien appearance, but Beech assures Jack that they're as mortal as he is. Jack insists that all the humans are on Titan, but Beech says that there is no Titan. He's been lied to. He's not working for earth's survivors. He's working for the race that wants them all dead. Beech has a disabled drone. He wants Jack to use his technical repair skills to reprogram the drone and send it back up to "Titan" to kill the aliens and save surviving human refugees. He saw Jack scavenging through the planet's rubble, saving things, relating to the civilization that had been, and Beech thought he could make Jack understand that the "scavengers" were not the enemy. Jack refuses to listen, to believe and Beech's angry assistant (Jaime from Game of Thrones, who barely has 2 minutes of screen time) who thinks Jack's not worthy of trust, wants to kill him immediately. When they put a gun to Julia's head to threaten him, Jack begs for her life, before he's knocked unconscious. When he comes to, he's surprised that Beech gives him back his space bike and his gun and let's him go. Beech hopes that Jack will return to help them, to prove Jaime, uh, Sykes wrong. As Julia and Jack leave on the bike, a bitter Sykes asks Beech what makes him think that Jack is different. "She does," Beech answers, his gaze on Julia.
When they visit the fallen Empire State building, Julia tells him he proposed on the Observation Deck. He put a ring in front of a telescope viewer and bade her to look through it and see her future. The missing memory pieces come flooding back to Jack. His thoughts finish the story that Julia is telling him. How she said yes. The ring he gave her? She still carries it on a necklace around her neck. She pulls it out to show Jack and they embrace.
Meanwhile, Sally's drone has located Jack and Victoria can locate him on her monitor. She sees Julia in his arms. When he and Julia return, she locks them out of the module. Speaking into her earpiece, she tells Sally that Jack has broken the rules. He's found a survivor who has compromised him, impaired his judgment, made him unstable. Are you and Jack an efficient team, is the inevitable question. "No, we are not." I don't know what effect Victoria thinks this will have. Is she really willing to have Jack killed because she saw him hugging Julia. She hasn't even given him a chance to do much more than that, but she sense that even before he found Julia, he belonged to her. "It was always her," she tells Jack. Sally's drones come to the module and they fire as Jack begs Victoria to escape with him and Julia. She won't and is ruthlessly killed by the drone. Then, to his shock, unconcerned with Victoria's demise, Sally asks Jack to come to Titan with Julia. She can be his new partner, after she's been prepped (i.e. had her mind erased) of course.
Jack and Julia flee. They run out of fuel and see a downed drone. A repairman comes to fix it and when Jack tries to approach him the man attacks. As they wrestle, Jack sees that he is fighting himself. The man is identical to him, only he's Tech 52, not Tech 49. Jack tries to call out words of reassurance to the mirror man, but he won't listen. Each struggles to disarm the other. The guns go off. Jack is only able to distract the other him when the lookalike sees Julia and has the same partial memories of her that Jack did. I think this might be helpful. If the replica loves Julia like Jack does, can't Jack use this to gain to gain his cooperation?
When his twin is caught off guard by the sight of Julia Jack knocks him out and ties him up. It is only then that he realizes that a stray bullet has hit Julia in the stomach. He moves her into a nearby cave and decides to take Tech 52's space ship to try to get help. The space ship recognizes him as its owner "Jack Harper" and flies him back to his module, Module 52, which is identical to the one Jack just escaped. It even has its own Victoria, with the familiar photograph on display framed by their love. Given a second chance to save her, Jack asks this Victoria to come out into the field with him. Let him show her earth. She refuses. She's tired of having this conversation. He knows the rules. He does and knows she won't break them. He gets the medical kit and leaves, returning to doctor Julia. The doppelganger has broken loose from his bindings and is nowhere to be found. Jack leaves with Julia, but is disheartened to realize he is only a clone.
When they encounter Beech again, he tells Jack that Titan created 1000 Jacks. All of them had his technical and leadership skills, but none of them had his soul. Before technology improved and they built the robot drones, Titan sent these Jacks to hunt the scavengers. The scavengers avoided or destroyed them all, but then Beech saw Jack, this Jack, cherishing the rubble, saving old books, risking his life for Julia's and knew that he was different. This Jack didn't only have knowledge. He had a heart. The heart of their commander, the original Jack. Jack was one of them. He was sent on a mission with Julia -- and Victoria -- and their ship went down. Knowing that Titan is the enemy, Jack works with the scavengers to build a drone that will destroy it.
On a break, he takes Julia to visit his shack by the stream. She reaches for him, but he insists that he's not who she thinks he is, just a copy. The man she married is dead. Julia demurs. His memories are Jack's. His memories are theirs and they still live. And this place . . . it's just like the place he described to her once. He told her he'd build her a house by the meadow, where they would grow old and fat together. How romantic of him, Jack laughs. He told her they would die there and the world would forget them, but they'd be together. That's what he said. "I remember," Jack replies. They make love. In the morning he says he'd wanted to live in that shack forever. He still can, Julia exclaims. No, he has to fight Titan with Beech. "Promise me we'll be back," Julia makes him pledge, before they leave for battle.
As Jack and the scavengers finish the drone, they are attacked by Titan drones before they can launch it. They ward off the Titan robots, but lose their own. Beech is devastated. He says he wishes he could have gone up to Titan with the drone. Jack says that would have been a suicide mission, but Beech said it would have been worth it just to see the alien master's face. They still have a space ship. Jack could fly up to Titan in that and destroy it that way. But Titan -- whatever it is -- will never let him through. Julia says that it will if she goes with Jack. After all "Sally" invited him to bring Julia up to Titan before, so that she could be transformed into his new "efficient" partner. Jack protests that he won't let Julia go to her death with him, but she insists.
He puts her back in her capsule and then we see him load a capsule onto the space ship and take off. As he flies, he listens to the flight recorder from Julia's crashed ship and has flashbacks. He learns that HE was the pilot on that ship and Victoria was his co-pilot. The other crew members were in their capsules in back, while he and Victoria were in the cabin. Victoria leans in close to a surprised Jack and snaps a picture of them together at the dashboard. It's the same picture from the modules. It looked like he was nuzzling her in the photo, but now we know that was a facade. His head turned into her face for the length of the snapshot, only by accident.
This makes me wonder if Victoria's memories were erased after all. She wanted him then just as the Victoria clones did. She might have had the same niggling memories as he did, but since they recalled a world where he belonged to another woman, she was happy to repress them. As a replica, she felt need and jealousy, but not real love. She was soulless just like the Jack clones that Beech described.
Now, listening to the flight recorder, Jack relives the last minutes that Victoria -- and he -- lived as humans. They were going to Titan with their crew, but as they neared they discovered that they were under attack. At that point, fearing for Julia, Jack decided to eject the sleeping compartment with the crew members. It would return to earth. If he survived, he would parachute down to join the other survivors later. He orders Victoria to get into one of the capsules. She refuses. She insists that she will not leave his side. There's no time to argue. Jack runs in back and bids adieu to the sleeping Julia. "Dream of us," he murmurs, as he ejects her.
He takes his seat next to Victoria and as they head to their fatal encounter with Titan, the flight recorder ends abruptly.
Back in the present world, Jack is once again flying to meet Titan. As his ship passes through the alien antechamber he sees human clones in glass containers, floating like fetuses. Jack clones. Victoria clones. When the real Jack and Victoria were killed 60 years ago, "Titan" preserved and endlessly copied their dna and trained/tricked them into continuing to ravage the planet that Titan had taken over. Titan appears to be nothing but a massive, geometrical black box, speaking with "Sally's" disembodied voice. It demands to know why Jack has come. He says that he is bringing the survivor to Titan, just like Sally wanted. But Sally's sensors show that his heart rate has quickened. "Oh, it's just because I'm glad to see you." His body readings reveal that he's lying. Why has really come. Sally, it, demands to know the truth and Jack must answer with drones trained on his ship, ready to fire. He says that he's come, bearing this survivor, because he realizes that it's the only way to save their species. Unaware that Jack now knows that the scavengers are his true species, Sally checks his vital signs and sees that his answer is truthful, believes that he still believes that Titan inhabitants are human.
As Jack opens his ship, Sally realizes that the "survivor" in his capsule is not the one she expected. It's Beeches, who has happily traveled there to witness Titan's death, even if it means his own. He and Jack fire and Titan explodes. Flames and debris rain down onto the earth and the scavengers below rejoice. Beech's mission to free them has been accomplished.
Alone at the shack by the stream, Julia emerges from her capsule. A flashback tells us that when Jack switched Beech's capsule for hers and left her to live, he touched the glass that encased her sleeping soul and said, "dream of us." Just as he had before ejecting her sleep capsule from another ship, sixty years earlier.
Three years pass and Julia is gardening outside of her dream shack, a toddler by her side. Through narration we hear Jack say he's been searching for her, wondering if she thinks of him, sees him in the child. The little girl points and when Julia looks up she sees scavengers. They have found her. This only makes me wonder why she didn't get in touch with them before. She knew there were other human survivors. Why raise her child outside of remaining civilization, when she could have searched for them. For that matter, I know Jack loved his little love shack and all, but why drop her off there in isolation, to give birth alone? The scavengers at least had technology in case of an emergency. Maybe he reasoned Titan drones could find her in that location, because they had already intercepted the scavenger headquarters and would return -- should he and Beech fail to destroy them.
Anyway, as we hear Jack narrating, we see him emerge from the scavenger crowd and move towards Julia and the child. "Who is he?" The little girl wonders. It's Jack, but not Tech-49, not the clone who died with Beech. This is Tech-52, the one who fought Jack, was tied up and then escaped. He says that he knew he would find this house, because he knew Jack 49 had built it. He built it because that's what Tech - 52 would have built too. Jack is him. He is Jack. "He is me."
Fine, but when Jack 52 was doing the voice over and wondered if their child reminded Julia of him, how did he know that Julia was pregnant? I don't think she was far enough along for even the other Jack (#49) to have realized that, when he left on his death mission. Are there other clones on earth, besides the two we knew about? What about the Victoria in module 52? What became of her? I suppose I might find the answer to small questions like this if I read the comics, from which the Oblivions screenplay was created, but I'm not intrigued enough by the story to explore further. I'll take the happy ending offered and leave Jack and Julia at that.
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