Showing posts with label david jackson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label david jackson. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 July 2013

What if Predator had been written and directed by Christopher Nolan?


Script excerpt #1

PHILIPS
                  Eighteen hours ago I was
                  informed that one of our
                  choppers, transporting three
                  presidential cabinet members
                  from this charming little
                  country – and I say this as a point of heavy-handed irony to indicate my contempt for anywhere outside of North America - was shot down...
            (points to the circled area)        
                
               This is really bad because cabinet ministers are important to running our country. They could also be ransomed or interrogated for information that might compromise our national security.
                  The pilots radioed from the
                  ground that they were all
                  alive.  Their position was
                  fixed by the transponder – a device that emits an interrogating signal in response to an interrogating received signal -
                  beacon onboard the chopper.
                         (points)
                  Here.

         Schaefer studies the map.  He looks up at Philips.

                                 SCHAEFER
                  That's over the border,
                  General. I am suspicious about this because we do not normally send cabinet ministers over the border. We also have no legal jurisdiction there. It will be dangerous because locals have the advantage.

                                 PHILIPS
                         (dead serious)
                  That's the problem.  Apparently
                  they strayed off course.
                         (pause)
                  We're certain they've been
                  captured by the guerrillas. This would be bad because, in case the audience didn’t get the point earlier, our national security would be compromised. The guerrillas don’t like us. They are brown people and they are bad.

         Schaefer looks up, puffing lightly on the cigar.

PHILLIPS
Why do you always smoke those cigars, major?

                                 SCHAEFER
It is a symbol that serves to remind the audience of a number of things – my social status, authority, ruggedness and excessive traditional masculinity. They may infer from its scale and phallic shape that I am equally well endowed.
                         (quietly)
                  That’s it for thematic exposition just now. Let’s get back to the plot. What have you got in mind, General?

Script Excerpt #2
                                 SCHAEFER
                  Dillon, you son of a bitch.

         The two men step forward and simultaneous swing from
         the hip as it to land a punch...but their hands SLAP
         together in a gesture of friendship, their forearms
         bulging, testing each other's strength.

                                 DILLON
                         (warmly)
                  How you been, Dutch?

         They continue the contest, Schaefer has the edge, forcing
         Dillon's arm slowly downward.

                                 SCHAEFER
                  You've been pushing too many
                  Pencils, Dillon. If people didn’t gather you had been out of soldiering for some time, I’d just like to underline that your physical strength is diminished. This will also serve to demonstrate that I am more masculine than you. Had enough?

                                 DILLON
                         (grinning)
                  No way, old buddy.

                                 SCHAEFER
                  You never did know when to
                  quit. I hope that this does not lead to a dramatic conflict between us later, or even lead to your death as you stubbornly face-off against an opponent who vastly outclasses you.

THE POINT OF ALL THIS

I love Predator. In many ways, it is a more perfect sci-fi actioner than Aliens. The effects still stand up today, the script is tight and efficient, the set-pieces punchily cut yet imbued with fluid movement. It is a simple film, and it should not be any other way. Running it through the Nolaniser, as I have done so above, clearly does it no favours.


A quote often credited to Albert Einstein is that “any idiot can make things more complicated – it takes real genius to make things simple”. Predator must be genius. The original script and movie have invented many clichés for us to abuse today, and is built upon gleefully cheesy archetypes. It knows what it is meant to be, and isn’t frightened of it.

It also isn’t frightened that the audience might not know what it is meant to be, or that they may not understand its zeitgeist references to South American tensions, or basic symbolism.
This is where Christopher Nolan comes in.

I’ve critiqued his work in detail before, so I shall keep this brief and have faith in my audience to follow what I am saying. I do not tend to enjoy Nolan films, and if I do it is only the first time. Once their gimmicks and plot convolutions are exposed, they are almost impossible to re-watch. There is nothing else to them. What bothers me most is that almost anything he is involved in spends much of its time explaining how clever it is to the audience and – by extension – how clever they are for watching. There is so much exposition and explication in his films, Inception and parts 2&3 of his Dark Knight work especially, that they can be very tiresome to watch. If you already got the point, it feels like your teeth are being pulled. If you didn’t get the point, it is because Nolan is so poor at communicating through images, actions and throwaway metaphorical lines that only a page of prose can really save it. I think my Nolanisation of Predator’s script is just the tip of the iceberg, but if you feel I’m being a little unrealistic I should refer you to some key scenes in his films, starting with a better one that still uses ‘the world’s greatest detective’ as a cypher for an audience that ‘might not understand’ the metaphor:


I’m fairly certain people would be able to figure out the point on their own, but Bruce still asks the question and Alfred still has to answer it. It’s not so in your face as some moments, but still overdone. Here’s another unnecessarily explicit one:



We’ve already seen Bane being badass. We know Bruce is injured. We can guess he’ll get his ass handed to him by Bane – and he does. Wouldn’t it have been more gratifying for the audience’s prediction to be correct, rather than to make it an ‘I-told-you-so’ moment for Alfred. Everything’s been communicated visually. There is no point in the two minutes you have just witnessed. The film Austin Powers even mocks this tendency before the time of Nolan by naming its exposition character … Basil Exposition. Inception is full of lengthy, talky exposition, but this episode of South Park called Insheeption illustrates the point far more elegantly (i.e through images rather than prose) than I could.

I feel that Nolan is really sucking the joy out of cinema with this kind of thing; pandering to a generation of people who just blurt out, “Who’s this? Why’s he doing that? Why’s Hulk green? Why won’t you like him when he’s angry?” rather than just watching and seeing. The audience is robbed of their journey, of thinking for themselves about what things mean and then seeing if they were right. Or perhaps Nolan is so insecure regarding his ownership of the film that he deliberately shuts down future discussion by being so explicit. He doesn’t often want critics to ponder or audiences to argue about meaning or message. It’s nice that he throws us a bone with the spinning top at the end of Inception where this issue is concerned.

Predator, for all its lack of apparent complexity, is a thematically rich film. In many ways it is incredibly clever; in the very least it is perfectly paced and sequenced so that we do not need wordy explanations beyond the opening briefing which I ran through the Nolaniser.
So how is Predator clever? Let me slip on my Michael Caine mask and I’ll explain through lengthy prose.

Thematically, Predator is a great constructor and deconstructor. It delights in building up modern notions of masculinity just to smash them down. After the briefing and character establishment we have the chopper ride into the jungle, where – superficially at least – the heroes trade sexist banter. The song playing over the top – Long Tall Sally - is about a woman luring a man away from his wife (Short fat Fanny). Two men – Hawkins and Blaine – subtly manage to reveal their own sexual insecurity. With Hawkins it is through immature pussy gags, with Blaine it is claims of being transformed into a “goddamn sexual Tyrannosaurus” by chewing tobacco. The wonderful irony is that they will be the ones getting shafted in this movie!


In a masterful piece of sequencing we then get a Demonstration of Competence moment wherein our team blasts through a guerrilla encampment. This serves two functions. When the titular Predator begins hunting down the team with ease, we can tell it is a whole new level of badass. We do not need Alfred to tell us it is badass up front. Our expectations are toyed with. Additionally, it helps deconstruct the notion of western military supremacy. The elite commando team is picked off by a tree-swinger hiding in the foliage. It fires plasma projectiles, granted, but its weapon still fires about as slowly as an arrow and its camouflage is simply a better version of camouflage that we have used for millennia. Schaefer (Dutch) and his team are so used to fighting with the biggest guns, their balls out and always winning that they are simply unprepared for a foe that has completely mastered the most basic, fundamental aspects of killing.

So Predator is about the failure of cigar-chomping modern masculinity on one level. But on another level, it completely turns the masculinity level on its head. Dutch is stripped down to his barest essentials, using mud as camouflage and weapons made from whittled wood, stone and good old dependable fire. He becomes the truly old-school rugged male – beating the elements, turning them to his advantage improvising his way out of everything in a battle where brains end up meaning more than brawn. So, his sophisticated commando team is beaten by a creature that employs primitive ambush tactics and the way Dutch beats it is to reduce himself to a level that’s even more primitive! Could this movie even be making a statement about how industrialisation has dulled our edge? Nah, that’s probably over-egging it.

…probably. Good job we were not told this by the movie. Where would be the fun in that?

About the Author

David M. Jackson believes that movies should be built for speed, and that Predator’s got everything that Uncle John needs. Oh baby. Yeah baby. Woo-oo baby. I’m havin’ me some fun tonight.

When he’s not smothering himself with mud and preparing to do battle with Christopher Nolan in the depths of the jungle, David teaches English and Sociology in between hurriedly writing novels. In a few months his second, Beta Ascending, will furtively slip into Amazon’s marketplace.

More from David M. Jackson:

Fight Club and the Doors of Perception

Second-Hand Stories, Second-Hand Opinions

Face It - 'The Dark Knight' is Actually Shit

Are James Cameron’s Movies Misandrist, and What Would he Hope to Gain if They Were?

Why I Love That Film: Aliens

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Fight Club and the Doors of Perception




These are the all singing, all dancing SPOILERS of the world
 


Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to watch Fight Club once every six months for the next five years. Each time, keep a written record of how you felt about it – where your sympathies lay with the characters, what you felt their real motivations were, what the message of the film was. Do not read your previous entries until you’ve finished the last one. Do not read criticism or watch documentaries regarding it. Do not do anything that could fix your opinion of it moreso than it is already fixed. Do not talk about Fight Club.

I can’t think of any other film that I have interpreted so differently each time I’ve watched it. I will of course admit that how I watch it is always affected by what’s going on in my life at the time. In my opinion that’s a major part of its brilliance – and on one occasion, its downfall.


Of course, there are some themes, plot-points and nuances of characterisation that are central to the film and sometimes made quite obvious for us. Sometimes it annoys me that the third act of the film goes to such lengths to explain that Pitt’s Durden is one and the same as Norton’s unnamed character -  who I will refer to as ‘Jack’ after the subject of the first-person bodily organ narratives he finds. We could figure that for ourselves- but it leaves the question of whether or not test audiences could. I guess not, if it was necessary to include such explication.

Casting my mind back, I remember seeing a very different film for the first time when I was sixteen or seventeen. Yes, it was on VHS so it looked like crap, but that’s not what I mean. As I prejudicially believe teenagers are wont to do, I found it to be a very ‘cool’ film. It had a stylish protagonist in Durden, a twist and an intellectual, establishment-defying message to it. Naturally, I really enjoyed the anti-Capitalist idea. Now I realise of course that Durden is a cult of personality and simply cannot tolerate anything as being perceived as more important than him.


The biggest difference between my perception of the film then as opposed to now is Marla Singer. Casting my mind back, I am certain that my younger self despised Marla as a moody, fickle attention-seeker. The film does an excellent job of aligning us with Jack though his narration and his placement in the foreground of scenes involving himself, Durden and Marla. It seems that Jack constantly takes the flak from Marla for her relationship problems with Durden. His politeness is stretched to its limit and the only indication of suppressed rage is the frantic scrubbing of his toothbrush on a shirt-stain. Her flirtation and groping seem to mock him, giving a glimpse of what she has with Durden, rubbing in her prior sexual rejection of him. When she speaks of the bridesmaid’s dress she is wearing and how special it was to someone, she seems to be building a self-absorbed adolescent tragedy around herself …

… until you realise that she is of course talking to Durden and alluding to the way he actually treats her – throwing himself into other tasks to avoid any kind of post-coitus bonding and eventually ejecting her from his home as if she no longer means anything. While it is true that Marla does nothing to help herself whatever way the film is watched, on second viewing she becomes an intensely sad, sympathetic figure.


Knowing that Durden and Jack are one and the same throws many other points into sharp relief. Suddenly Durden’s revelations about being “a generation of men raised by women,” and wondering “if another woman is really what we need” become elaborate rationalisations for ignoring Marla when he isn’t boning her. An enlightened visionary becomes a selfish asshole long before the third act.

It’s not to say that Fight Club is without failings. There is some painful exposition, but at least it is brief. Where the film fails, some of the blame can be laid on the audience. Watch Fight Club disengaged after the first viewing, suffering under the assumption that all its mysteries are unravelled, and you might find it tedious. The journalist knows this, because the viewer knows this. Time and space can vastly improve this film – after being bored by it once, I left it almost two years, and then found it revelatory when I came back to it.

There is so much to discuss, but I don’t see much reason for any more glib assertions about my interpretations.

What are your experiences of Fight Club?

-          David ‘Piler Turden’ Jackson


ABOUT THE AUTHOR
You can feed his despicable lust for gold buying his first novel by clicking here. It’s called ‘Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity’ and sees cybernetically enhanced super-cop Jennifer Carter uncover a terrible plot to overthrow the British government while on the run from the very institution she is trying to save. It’s very violent, which he knows you’ll love because you’re a sadist. It’s mainly racists that get hurt, so it’s OK. He recommends waiting a while for the improved second edition, because the formatting didn’t transfer properly to all devices, goddammit!
More from David M. Jackson at I Love That Film:
 
Second-Hand Stories, Second-Hand Opinions

Face It - 'The Dark Knight' is Actually Shit

Are James Cameron’s Movies Misandrist, and What Would he Hope to Gain if They Were?

Why I Love That Film: Aliens 

More on Fight Club:

Lots more Fight Club links
Using Critical Approaches to Study Fight Club

Wednesday, 19 June 2013

Second-Hand Stories, Second-Hand Opinions



CAUTION: THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS SPOILERS, ELEMENTS OF SATIRE AND VILLAINS IN SWIVELLY CHAIRS


A young hero, uncertain of his abilities, is one day convinced that he is serving the wrong masters and beliefs. His saviour from servitude is a woman of high status, perhaps even a princess, who leads him into the tutelage or protection of a wise figure, often male, who leads from the front. On the way, they acquire sidekicks who provide comedy through their selfish actions. They will also meet someone who competes for the princess’ attentions. There will also be an oracular figure, retired from the Great Fight , who does not believe that the hero is spiritually ready for his journey. At some point, the older male wisdom figure will sacrifice himself to protect the hero. This gives the young hero the impetus needed to face the Big Bad. But it turns out that the Big Bad is not so different from the hero, and is really just in the service of a Bigger Bad in a Big (Often Swivelly) Chair.



What movie am I talking about? Is it Star Wars? Is it The Matrix? Am I maybe talking about the Legend of King Arthur? Hell, even Austin Powers fulfils many of these criteria quite knowingly.

Actually, I’m talking about all and none of them. What I’m really doing is gearing up to troll people’s glib opinions about the film Avatar, a perfectly well-executed movie that it’s just oh-so-fashionable to hate because – drumroll please … “It’s just Pocahontas / Dances with Wolves / Ferngully in Space, and that makes it awful!”
 
… and then of course I ask the utterer specific questions about those three films and they blush because they’ve never even bloody seen a single one of them. Yes, the story of Avatar is recycled – but so is the story of any of your favourite big event movies. 

What’s genuinely criminal is that the above opinion is recycled. You heard some beard-stroking, pretentious pseudo-intellectual say it and now you parrot it to bask in the reflected cleverness.

But you are not clever. It took the fact that they are both set in a jungle / primitive wilderness for you to recognise it was the same story, and you utterly failed to notice that all these other ‘wildly original and creative films’ are the same story wearing a selection of different suits.

Is a Ferrari rubbish because it has four wheels and so does a Lada? No. It has its own specific set of merits and faults; so does Avatar. Over at Indiewire you will see how we pre-judged Avatar by its faintest resemblance to other movies and began deriding it before we even saw it. So… if a film is rubbish because it resembles another in some way, doesn’t it mean that those ten films all resemble eachother too and are thus utter garbage? Including Return of The King and District 9? If you must judge a film, judge it by its own strengths and weakness. Glib comparisons are a poor shortcut to actual thinking, and it’s an embarrassment to everyone with their own individual taste and judgment –which are easily perverted by popular opinion as I will cover in the section Cultural Edifice Complex later.

Of course you are likely to be scratching your head and saying, “hang on – how the hell is The Matrix the same as Star Wars? And how does Austin Powers fit in here?” The more astute and well-versed movie-nerds among you may even be guffawing at my omission of Kurosawa’s The Hidden Fortress – the movie which George Lucas openly admits he stole the entire basic plotline of Star Wars from. Neither of those films is particularly dreadful, by the way.

There are so many comparisons and parallels that this article could take forever, so I’ll tackle the basic ones.

Let’s look at the heroes first. In Avatar, Jake Sully has lost his legs and also bought into the belief that he is as dumb as a sack of bricks. In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker is crippled by his Aunt and Uncle’s insistence that he stay behind and help with the harvest.

What are they both doing? Well, Sully serves an evil military industrial complex and soon learns that a bunch of fiercely independent tribes-people of a different race have a ‘better world-view’. Luke whines that he wants to join the fleet academy, an organisation run by the evil Galactic Empire. But, of course, he ends up with the Rebel Alliance – a collection of fiercely independent different races.

Austin Powers doubts his mojo (the Force, but for sex?) and, considering how values have changed, doubts he is serving the rights organisation . Anderson / Neo in The Matrix leads an equally dreary existence serving a mean-spirited software firm.

All of them, eventually, are contacted by a woman of high status (Leaia, Netyri, Yuki, Trinity)who leads them away. Of course, all the Big Bads in Swivelly Chairs play on these insecurities during the denouement of each story.


Sully meets Dr Grace Augustine – a wise, older woman with a confrontational streak who tries to teach him the ‘right way’. Morpheus is the wise older man with a confrontational streak who frees Neo’s mind. Obi-Wan Kenobi, General Makabe, Merlin … you get the picture, right? Oh, yeah, they all either come under threat or die to help the hero mature. Kenobi lets Vader destroy his mortal body. Morpheus throws himself into Agent Smith’s path to save Neo. Pocahontas’ father is shot at by Ratcliffe. It’s all the same junk.

Figures senior to the martial wise man, such as Yoda or the Oracle from The Matrix, dismiss the hero’s ability and becomes a boundary.

Neo becomes more machine-like, and Smith becomes more human. Vader is Luke’s dad, and still has good within him, whereas Luke brushes with the Dark Side in their final duel. Colonel Quaritch has strong loyalty and duty motives to mankind, much like Sully’s acquired motives toward the Na’vi. As Dr Evil says to Austin Powers, “we’re not so different you and I.” Having struggled against Number Two, Powers faces Dr Evil, at which point Number Two refuses to kill Powers. Vader refuses to kill Luke. Smith cannot kill Neo but must instead become one with him. The Ultimate Swivel Chair Baddies – The Architect, Emperor Palpatine, Parker Selfridge, Governor Ratcliffe, Jaffar from Aladdin for heaven’s sake … all of them rule primarily through sinister intellect and social authority rather than naked force. It’s all eerily similar.

 








 The more I think about it, the more films look the same. In Robocop, an ordinary man undergoes a transformation that gives him superhuman powers, breaks from the directives of his makers when reminded of who he really is by a woman, and faces off against a Big Bad who is backed by a Bigger Bad in a Swivelly Chair. A few years later, Verhoeven made Total Recall, a film in which –wait for it – an ordinary man undergoes a transformation to a superhuman agent, runs into a woman called Melina who shows him the truth way and introduces him to Quatto, your all-in-one wiseman and oracle figure. Along the way he fights a Big Bad who is backed by a Bigger Bad in a Swivelly Chair. In both films, the swivel chaired mastermind is played by Ronnie Cox! To make things even better, both the Big Bads are balding and … holy shit! In Return of the Jedi, when Vader’s mask is removed … HE’S BALD AS WELL! In Hook, it turns out Captain Hook is bald under the curly wig! Oh my god these films are all such derivative garbage! WON’T SOMEBODY PLEASE JUST STOP THE BALDNESS!



If you’re going to be critical of Avatar because of what it shares with Dances With Wolves or more usually Pocahontas, you may as well attack it for being similar in terms of its basic plot movements and character tropes to The Matrix, that in turn for being a rip off of Star Wars, that in turn for being a rip-off of The Hidden Fortress. Django Unchained has a very similar formula. That formula is known as ‘monomyth’ and it’s been observed for decades. Just Google it. Then go to tvtropes.org to learn more about how everything is exactly the same.


…Or you can attack Avatar for its numerous actual faults. For example, Cameron fails in making us sympathise with the Na'vi because they themselves are a bunch of hypocritical, racist, discriminatory, fickle and deceitful assholes who are also dumb enough to think that just because Sully comes back with a bigger dinosaur that he can be trusted. I mean really - if the backstabber at work drives in tomorrow with a Mercedes and not the clapped out Ford they are riding in today, do you trust them more? Nope. The Direct Agency Villain, Quaritch, is the only character in the movie who is honest about his intentions, consistently risks his own life for his loyalties, and keeps his promises. Avatar should be renamed The Assassination of Miles Quaritch by the Coward Jake Sully. It’s really a tragedy about how a noble man is laid low by a traitor who just wants to get laid. A most misunderstood film.

The question still remains – why is it that people will routinely launch such a shallow, second-hand attack on Avatar yet often aggrandise stories that are – apart from the most superficial trappings – exactly the same as it? We are all suffering under a …

Cultural Edifice Complex

To an extent we all want to be seen as clever due to where our tastes lie. This makes us very easily swayed to conform to the views of culturally recognised Beard Strokers, and immensely hypocritical to boot.
 
For example, James Cameron made it very clear before the release of Avatar that he was deliberately referencing Golden Age sci-fi from the 60s and 70s, right down to the ludicrous ‘unobtainium’. He clearly set out to create a visually engaging piece of pulp sci-fi, with gorgeous design and bold characters. Smartness wasn’t part of the remit. He succeeded. Yet we attack him for his intentions, still deride the naming conventions, and whinge about how derivative his work is.

Quentin Tarantino does EXACTLY THE SAME DAMNED THING and we hail him as a ‘genius’ for being referential about old exploitation cinema. Perhaps Cameron’s only mistake was not to lay it on thick enough? Speaking of laying it on thick, what the hell was going on with the last ten minutes of Django Unchained? As soon as Waltz stops playing an active role, switch off your TV. You’ll save yourself a sudden agonising switch to stagey, pantomime acting, random silly dressage stunts that don’t fit in with anything that happened before, and what I’m hoping is simply heavy handed irony in which Django loses his Nietzschean battle and basically becomes the white man.

The reason for this disparity in our tastes is simply reputation. Critics give a film-maker or individual film a reputation for something and (so long as they stick to the famed feature) they can do no wrong. Despite being a turgid, slow, listless, preachy, Sociology-textbook bothering mess, The Dark Knight goes unchallenged as an ‘awesome film’ by many. Their reason? “Dunno. Just an awesome film.” You give them reasons why it isn’t and you are shouted down as a tasteless philistine who just didn’t understand the movie. The Joker’s famous question, “why so serious?” has been answered. It’s because people will buy any tripe if it’s packaged correctly.

The truth is these people are just upset that you blew the game. You proved them wrong, you showed that they are sheep following a trendy opinion. That made them angry because they wanted to look clever for liking that film, and so they attack you rather than explain reasons why the film or director is actually any good.

We make statues of directors and palaces of films; the effect becomes like being an English person saying something against the Monarchy or soldiers serving in the Middle East. A knee-jerking tide of tribal buffoons descends upon you with cries of “How dare you! These are fundamental institutions without which our society would crumble!”

No, they aren’t. Many republics, such as America, do just fine. Japan copes on the world stage without an extra-national army. They all have their faults and merits, which other examples of the type can easily fill in for. A film not directed by Tarantino or Nolan can do just fine without. Just make sure you’re examining the real faults and merits.
 
ABOUT THE AUTHOR


David M. Jackson sat in a big swivelly chair cackling maniacally as he wrote this article. When he isn’t sending his balding minions to confront youthful, insecure heroes he teaches and sometimes writes in exchange for Unobtanium (which money might as well be in Britain’s current economy).

You can feed his despicable lust for gold buying his first novel by clicking here.

It’s called ‘Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity’ and sees cybernetically enhanced super-cop Jennifer Carter uncover a terrible plot to overthrow the British government while on the run from the very institution she is trying to save.
It’s very violent, which he knows you’ll love because you’re a sadist. It’s mainly racists that get hurt, so it’s OK.
 He recommends waiting a while for the improved second edition, because the formatting didn’t transfer properly to all devices, goddammit!

More from David M. Jackson at I Love That Film:

Why I Love Aliens

Face It - 'The Dark Knight' is Actually Shit