Sunday, August 1, 2010

Remember Me --Unforgettable Ending

Back in February of this year when Remember Me had mass distribution in the U.S., I remember thinking I should go to see this film for two major reasons. First, because the charming and very watchable Robert Pattinson was starring in it; second, because I saw a couple of the NYU scenes being shot right outside Washington Square Park and in one of the NYU buildings (well, I didn't see the scenes so much as the massive crowd of screaming tween girls that encompassed the entire set). Anyway, the theatrical release did not last too long and I never got around to seeing it until the other day when I watched the DVD. It was then that I unexpectedly found another reason why I and others should see this film.

The story is rather tragic and high drama, following the lives of two young college students in New York City. This much I already knew from the trailers. Pattinson plays Tyler, a 21-year-old who lost his older brother seven years ago when he committed suicide at the age of 22. Tyler has trouble letting go and lives with this unresolved grief and anger everyday. Most of his rage is directed at his father who he blames for Michael's death and who he strongly believes is an unfit father, putting work ahead of his children. Ally, played by Emilie De Ravin, witnessed the cold murder of her mother in the subway when she was eleven and now must deal with the fact that her father is having some trouble with letting her grow up and be a more independent college student.

However, it is the last five minutes, which came rather unexpectedly for me, that makes the movie a very effective 9/11 movie and horribly tragic without even any footage of the airplanes hitting the towers or the massive physical devastation. The entire film demonstrates the great impact that slow disclosure can have on an audience. This is slow disclosure at its height. The rest of the movie suddenly has such a different context. It is almost jolting --I believe I even gasped when young Caroline's teacher wrote the date on the chalkboard: "Tuesday, September 11, 2001" and again when the camera dramatically pulled back from Tyler looking out of his father's office building to reveal it is on one of the top floors of the South Twin Tower Building. The ultimate effect of this jarring realization completely parallels what that day was really like for Americans and New Yorkers. Everyone's lives where leading up to it, but none of us knew it. Then, all of a sudden there it was, interrupting millions of lives directly and indirectly in such a profound way. Pre-September 11th we were all tragically ignorant of this devastating event, could not even imagine it and were just going about our lives, our daily struggles, our regular ups and downs. Dealing with family situations, dealing with school and work, and relationships.

That sudden drop of my stomach felt all too familiar. What I had seen as a movie about malcontent, struggling youth that I felt slightly detached from, had instantly hit home and conjured up many of the feelings and sadness that I felt that horrible day. The writer and director also captured the sad irony of the day. It was an absolutely beautiful day --not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, warm, sweet-smelling. School had started only a couple weeks earlier and it felt like the kind of day where things were bright and looking up, that anything was possible --much the way Tyler probably felt while looking at his father's screensaver of all the family photos and realizing that he really does love and care about his children.

Even before it is revealed what infamous day it is, I was starting to get a bad feeling about things. First of all, so far in the movie, very little had gone well for Tyler, and this certainly was how he felt about his life. It seemed like he could never truly be happy, despite the moments of joy with Ally, and the viewer becomes convinced of this fact as well. Something doesn't feel right. It is like Tyler must now pay for the fact that he had made amends with his father and saw that glimpse into the real man, a loving father. He even reconciled with Ally after their falling out. In case all these clues are too subtle, the ominous soundtrack leaves no doubt in your mind that something terrible is going to happen very soon.

So, I have been unable to get these final images out of my head --from this movie that I never expected to reach me on this level. I also keep thinking, what are the filmmakers trying to say about this day and more generally about life. I know they want us to be able to put a face and an identity on a victim that so easily can become a number (though this particular "victim" is fictitious). There are tens-of-thousands of other stories that could have been told, but we just happened to get a glimpse into the life of Tyler --there were all kinds of different people who died in those buildings and on those planes with complex lives and rich paths that ended abruptly on that day. The Gandhi quote in the movie (spoken as a voice over by Tyler) first heard in the beginning and then later at the end also speaks to this: "Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it." I also think, as evident by the final scene with Ally finally riding the subway again (something she hadn't done since her mother was murdered)and somehow mustering up a thoughtful smile, that the filmmakers are saying that though we don't have to and should not forget (Remember Me) people after losing them that it is necessary to move on and move forward. But, what is the lesson taken from Tyler's tragic life, ultimately dying at the same age as his brother and all too young? The most heart-wrenching thing is that if it were not for those series of positive events leading up to this sad climax, Tyler would never even be sitting in his father's office and in the line of danger. Would it have been better for his life to continue on that same steady but painful track, but he still be alive? Or, does this moment of him making peace with everything make the tragedy somehow OK? Why is he stuck between this rock and hard place? Why can't he have the peace and joy and his life? Maybe because life is sometimes unfair --like for all those people who died that day. Maybe because sometimes there just aren't answers. Maybe all we can really hope for in life is that when we die someone will keep us alive in their thoughts and memories of us.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Inception: Christopher Nolan Can Plant Ideas in My Head Any Time

OK, so now it is time to talk about my new favorite movie --Inception. And by the way, I'm not the only one who thinks this movie is that good. On IMDB's top 250 movies of all time list, voters have placed this at number three (right between The Godfather and The Godfather: Part II). But, before we get down to the very juicy ending, I just wanted to mention a few things about the film in general.

As anyone who knows me will tell you, I love all Christopher Nolan films. I have seen them all and love the storylines and how the stories are visually presented as well as the thought-provoking, complex themes explored. Before I even knew what this movie was about, I knew I had to see it simply because Nolan had written and directed it. The cast also sounded great: Leonardo DiCaprio, Marion Cotillard, Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ken Watanabe, and Michael Caine! Yes, an odd collection but all great actors who do make it all work convincingly. When I found out the film was about dreams, I wanted to see it that much more. I know Nolan is very interested in the mind, memory, and dreams, as well as what is real and whether reality is subjective, objective, or in fact doesn't matter at all. I find these topics fascinating and not at all "gimmicky" as some haters contend. While addressing the critics, I would also like to say that those who don't understand certain plot points should not be excused. Unless you were not listening, there is no reason why you should not understand this film and the elements of the various dream levels. I will agree that this movie demands an attentive viewer and that if you get too immersed in your popcorn or take several bathroom breaks, you are liable to miss some important piece of information. However, unlike Memento or Following, this movie does not demand mental Olympics at the end to try to decipher the events leading up to the big finale. It is basically told in chronological order and keeps the audience on the same page as the events unfold. So, for the blogger on EW who asks what happens to you in one dream level when you enter a deeper level, the answer is you are sleeping (duh --it's a dream within a dream --get it?).

Anyway, this brings me to the big ending and this is where even the most attentive viewers disagree. The big question everyone has is, "Does Cobb return to reality or is his reunion with his children nothing more but a dream?" I am on the side that believes this to be reality. And these are my reasons:
1. Cobb was promised that he would be able to return to the U.S. and see his children if he successfully completed the mission which is pretty evident that he did because Fischer was convinced not to follow in his father's footsteps and pursue the family empire.
2. Although the screen fades to black before we see the ultimate outcome of the spinning totem, it does appear to slow down and start to lean to one side more as an indication that it may be getting unstable.
3. In a very emotional scene never the end, Cobb confronts Mal (interesting choice of a name --in Spanish it means "bad" as many of the characters in this seem to have meaningful names), saying that he could never imagine her as detailed as she could be in real life. He goes on to say that to live with this imperfect, incomplete version of her would not be worth it. Therefore, why would Cobb ever want to live with an imperfect, incomplete version of his children. He would want the real them.
4. Cobb finally sees his children's faces and he even touches them for the first time.
5. It is very clear that all members of the mission, including Cobb, wake up on the airplane and return to real life, gathering their luggage at the airport, etc.

Now, people who insist the ending is a dream will give the following as support:
1. The children are wearing seemingly the same clothes as in Cobb's dreams and appear to be the same age.
I admit this seemed problematic for me as well, but we don't know how much time has passed since he last saw them. Remember, dream time does not equal real time. They could still be about the same age, and if so, children often wear the same clothes, especially if they are their favorites or are their designated play clothes.
2. We don't actually see the totem stop rotating and fall.
Yes, this is true as mentioned. However, I believe Nolan is certainly playing tricks on us and doesn't want this to be too easy after all. He has succeeded in this as now we are the ones questioning what is real and what is not. Many people on various blogs have commented that perhaps the whole film is yet another dream level and we are really never even shown reality at any point. I think Nolan is probably chuckling at these comments. He's got us questioning everything and made us bury down and down, into our own "basements," not able to come up anymore. It really is like finding a labyrinth, with no way out, just more and more layers. But, there is a cautionary tale in there --we must not become like Mal where we cannot decipher dreams from reality.
3. Some have pointed to the fact that the ending feels rushed and "dreamlike" so it is therefore unreal.
Well, first of all it is 148 minutes long --how long is it supposed to run? I found the ending to just be an effective montage. The flight attendant clearly hid the suitcase quickly so Fischer would not see it and become suspicious. And, why do we need to see all the details at the airport? How boring would it be to watch each character go through all the pedestrian aspects of claiming luggage and maneuvering through the airport.

One issue that people also question is why does Cobb turn his back on the spinning totem. Is it because he is sure it is reality and doesn't need to see it cease spinning? Is it because he sees it spinning and is rapidly convinced it is a dream, not waiting to see his belief confirmed? Is he just excited to see his kids that he neglects to see the results unfold? Or, does it no longer matter to him what is real and what is not? In other words, is reality subjective, open to interpretation and different for each person? Is the ending Cobb's own reality --different from yours and different from mine? It is what he lives, what he wants it to be, what feels real to him. Does it matter what we think and how we label it?

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Letters to Juliet and the Romantic Comedy Ending

I have come to greatly dislike the term "chick flick." It tends to have rather negative connotations regarding the quality (or lack thereof) as well as trivializing the emotions and subject matter depicted. I also find it offensive that films with a female lead, told from a female perspective are marginalized with this label and deemed unworthy of a male viewership (unless of course one is unfortunately tied up and dragged there by said "chick" as part of their Friday night out). Women constantly view films from a male's view (since most films fall under this category) --from the obvious overtly high-testosterone action movies to the more subtle, typical drama. With that said, like most women, I admit I enjoy a good romantic comedy.

Like most mainstream Hollywood films, romantic comedies follow a predictable formula. In the case of the romantic comedy this usually consists of an established romantic relationship followed by a serendipitous encounter between one member of the original couple and an outsider. Usually the latter two are uncompatible and seem as though they would rather stab their eyes out with a blunt knife than be in the other's company. But, as the story unfolds, they realize that the other is exactly what they have been searching for all along and proclaim their true feelings; all resulting in the proverbial "happy ever after." We all know the plot yet we still greatly enjoy the journey (at least when the film is well done).

Letters to Juliet is no exception to this formula, although there is an endearing parallel storyline going on with Vanessa Redgrave's character, Clair, that adds great appeal and substance to the story. Throughout the film, there are very cute moments and even some nice comedic moments and lines (especially delivered by Christopher Egan's character, Charlie, the unwilling participant). However, as much as we enjoy the journey, and as much as we know the inevitable outcome, namely that Clair will find her much loved and much missed Lorenzo and Charlie and Sophie will see that they are meant to be together, the ending still has to deliver. But does it? Here is where I had trouble and fear the "chick flick" label descending. The corny factor became so elevated in the last scene that what was previously a smile on my face was now a wince. It actually brought back recollections of Pretty Woman, a film I greatly enjoyed, but whose ending was similarly cringe-inducing. Both movie endings have cheesy dialogue in their last scenes and ironically feature a balcony. In both films, the balcony does seem a fitting place to end (because in Letters to Juliet there are obvious references to Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet and in Pretty Woman Julia Roberts' character has a fantasy of a prince climbing a balcony to rescue her and take her away). Therefore, the balcony should be the perfect ending. But why doesn't it work? Is it too hackneyed? Or does it have nothing to do with the balcony setting afterall? Are we just expecting so much, anticipating and envisioning this wonderful ending that when it happens we can't help but be disappointed? Could it be that as much as we like and hope for the romanic "happily ever after" when it actually happens the spell is broken and we fall back into our cynical everyday selves?