Source Code is spoiler-sensitive; a single sentence could ruin the experience the filmmakers intended. It is what may be referred to as a "roller-coaster" experience, with twists and turns and more twists and all that exciting stuff. Knowing this, I will make sure that I don't explain too much of the plot. And I would be careful reading reviews that don't preface this kind of assurance since a thorough explanation of the plot could compromise the surprises and clever reveals with which the film is put together. And to be frank, these surprises are why it's worth seeing. The science-fiction component has interesting ideas, but their execution is inconsistent. I saw the film with J.D. A two-hour post-film discussion on what we had just seen took place and only a very rough consensus was made. But more on that later.
Jake Gyllenhaal plays a soldier who is being sent somewhere that looks like a moving train a few hours ago but actually isn't. Actually, the words "sent" and "somewhere" are misleading because where he's being "sent" has no spatial existence. But, even though it merely looks like the past, it is a perfect representation of the world as it existed at that time. In other words, it looks really really really real.
But he's not going as himself, he is usurping another body. When he looks into the mirror, he sees another man. The film, because it assumes its audiences would otherwise get confused, shows the man as Jake Gyllenhaal, even though the man looks completely different to the other passengers. I think it would have been cooler if, when he woke up, we actually saw the man he was usurping instead of Jake Gyllenhaal so that we could, you know, figure out through good acting that he was being occupied by a different mind. Oh well.
Did I mention the train blows up? I mean, what else would it do? Make all regular station stops?
After eight minutes he wakes up in a capsule. He is told by military personnel to keep doing it until he finds the guy who blew up the train.
Okay I won't say any more about the plot. All plot exposition I've given you learn by the first, oh, I dunno, say, 13 minutes? Maybe I've said too much. This is after all, a roller-coaster movie. The entire first half of the film is cut together so that you are left completely in the dark as to what is going on. There are a few red herrings that in retrospect kind of, if you will, stink up the film. But it is an exciting film if you can temporarily forget about them, which I did.
About halfway through the movie, you sort of learn what's going on. The film assumes we know enough. Maybe we do. But I should point out something.
After discussing the events of the film with J.D., I read some reviews on the internet. There is no clear consensus as to what is actually happening in this film. You may have heard that it is a time travel film. Ryan Lambie from Den Of Geek describes the plot as (don't worry I won't give anything away) that of a man who is required to "travel repeatedly back … in time." Peter Howell of The Toronto Star writes, perhaps facetiously, that he is able to "twist time, space and DNA." But some critics are clear in their review that it is not a time travel film. Tim Robey from The Telegraph writes that "[i]f it sounds like time travel, it isn't." And Mick LaSalle from the San Francisco Chronicle writes that a certain object that is integral to the plot (I remind the reader I am being vague purposely) is "not, strictly speaking, real," and that we are seeing "a kind of echo memory." Some critics don't commit either way. Ryan Fleming from Digital Trends writes of certain sequences: "It is not real, and yet in a sense it is." If you're confused by that, you should be; it makes no sense, and yet in a sense it does.
It can't be a time travel movie because when he supposedly goes back in time, all changes he makes have no effect on the future. The pseudo-science babble also clearly states that it isn't time travel, and that the world he sees is made up of information collected from electric-magnetic signals emitted by humans in the surrounding area. Or something crazy like that. But it can't be an "echo memory" because the traveller doesn't have the memories of the body he's usurping. He has his own memories. And he also is able to explore areas of which the usurped body had no experience. The critics who talked about parallel realities are closest to getting it right. The film suggests strongly that the worlds he revisits are just as real as the reality from which he came.
The film is a better roller-coaster than it is an exhibition of science-fiction ideas. There are ambiguities that left me asking a lot of questions, and some of them could be answered with intelligent argumentation, using clues provided throughout the film. Some of them, however, suggested lazy writing. For example, what happens to the mind of the body Gyllenhaal's character usurps? Does he cease to exist? And if he does, then what kind of reality is it where a mind randomly enters it and takes over its body? How real can that reality be? And the end. Oh my God, the end. What the hell was that?
This film resulted less in discussion of its ideas and more in attempts to make it intelligible. In the end, J.D. and I had to agree that there isn't enough conclusive evidence to support any one of our several theories. This isn't always a bad thing, but somehow, for Source Code, it was a bad thing.
Showing posts with label The Toronto Star. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Toronto Star. Show all posts
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sucker Punch
I'm afraid I might not have been completely fair to Battle Los Angeles. I was almost positive Battle Los Angeles would be a bad film before I watched it. I presupposed it was bad. I am not recanting any statements nor suggesting that the film is not boring and a waste of time, but it may have been unfair of me to go into a movie with such an attitude that might preclude it from making a positive impression on me.
To make this confession more shameful, I neglected to write in my review of Battle Los Angeles that I was touched by the last minute. I imagine that many critics probably discredited the film for shamelessly and predictably leaving the film essentially unfinished and open-ended to suggest a sequel and a Battle franchise. But I think it effectively conveys strong leadership and determination in a central character that is otherwise inadequately developed. I should have mentioned that.
J.D., with whom I saw Battle Los Angeles, updated his Facebook status yesterday that he was going to continue his trend of seeing bad films and see the new Zack Snyder film that night. He had called me the day before and asked if I wanted to see it with him. I said that I'd hang out with him and made no guarantee I'd see the film. But when I read his Facebook status, I realized that only with great resistance and an awkward social situation would I get out of seeing it.
But here I was again, thinking I didn't want to see it, presupposing its quality. I decided to change my perspective. Sure, it has an even lower percentage on Rotten Tomatoes than Battle Los Angeles, but I wonder how many other critics presuppose the quality of a female version of the Gerard Butler epic, 300? I figured if I put up no resistance and see the film with optimism, I could see things other people missed. Maybe I'll actually enjoy it. After all, I am paying to see it; it is only rational to believe that I am spending money for something that will I enjoy.
I wasn't stupid about this. I had read Peter Howell's review in The Toronto Star that the story does not make sense, and that the acting is flat. I knew I wouldn't enjoy it for the writing or the acting. I enjoyed Watchmen, one of Snyder's previous films, but I enjoyed it as a fanboy. Familiar with the comic book on which its based, Snyder's filmmaking talents were not on trial so much as his loyalty to the source material. But the visuals were extraordinary. This was my best clue to enjoying Sucker Punch. I figured that if I was going to enjoy this film, it was probably going to be on that basis alone. I adjusted my expectations accordingly.
As it turns out, there is a lot more going on in Sucker Punch than I thought it would have. It is certainly better than Battle Los Angeles and it might be the most interesting movie in theatres right now. It is not just the visuals that are worth seeing in Sucker Punch. The visuals are lovely; Snyder makes ugly and scary look good. But the film's narrative form is bizarre, which comes as a pleasant surprise. It's confusing and perhaps unintelligible, and I don't like the film enough to ever watch it again, but it was definitely more unique than I expected it to be. I've never seen a movie executed quite like this before. I challenge anyone to name a title with a story told like this.
The story, to refute Peter Howell, makes some sense. Actually, there are two stories and they both make sense. In the first story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is unjustly committed to a mental institution where she is subject to primitive surgical practices and the authority of corrupt guards. In the second story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is, at the consent of a priest, unwillingly adopted by a burlesque establishment, the owners of which subject their dancers to public dancing and prostitution. They're implausible, absurd, offensive perhaps, but they make sense.
Most of the film tells the second story. After some workplace drama, the young girl, dubbed Baby Doll, convinces four other captives to help her attain several items needed to escape. Their method is thievery amid distraction by Baby Doll's exceptionally arousing dance routine. Here's where it gets even weirder. Baby Doll's dance routines are never shown. When her dances begin, the film cuts to an epic action sequence. For example, Baby Doll and her four helpers at one point try to attain a map of the burlesque establishment. The plan is that while Baby Doll distracts the management with her dance, one of her helpers, Sweet Pea, will sneak into an office and get a copy of the map posted on the wall. I guess she makes an offscreen photocopy or something. But when Baby Doll starts her dance, the film cuts to a fantasy world: a battlefield in which the five girls are slaughtering robots with gas masks. They are looking for a map in this fantasy too. After much killing and explosions, they find the map. This might have been a fifteen-minute sequence. I can't say it wasn't entertaining. When the action sequence is over, the film cuts back to reality, where Baby Doll's dance is over and Sweet Pea has acquired the map, their mission accomplished. The five girls rejoice backstage in their dressing room.
The film thus defines a formula here that it follows throughout the film: workplace drama, followed by scheming, followed by dance routine and action sequence, followed by rejoicing, repeat. It gets tiresome.
Other critics, including Howell, have claimed that the action sequences are the best part of Sucker Punch. It is a sad truth. If all you like are the action sequences, you're going to be ripping the skin off of your arms waiting for them because they appear about as often as commercial breaks during a TV programme. Faithful to its formula, there aren't many of them, and they aren't important to the story, or stories. I think the film tries to suggest that they somehow represent the girls' turbulent inner strength or their passion for justice or something vague like that. Whatever they mean, as good as they look, they are inconsequential.
The film needs more focus. One of the stories should have been cut, and more care should have been taken to connect fantasies to their reality counterparts. There were moments where, due to the bizarre nature of the film, I was not able to predict the film, which evoked a genuine feeling of concern for the certain characters. But by the last ten minutes of the film, the film had slipped in and out of different stories and fantasies so much that I didn't care who was dead or who survived, who escaped or who got caught. I couldn't seriously invest interest in one story over another, in one character in one story over the same character in another story, or in one character played by one actor in one story over a different character played by the same actor in another story. Wow. Now this review is unintelligible.
When the film ends, I think the film tries to suggest that the action sequences were representations of the inner battles we face in life. Or something like that. I was unmoved. But hey, I wasn't expecting a well-written film, and neither should anyone going to see it. It is visually interesting with an ambitious narrative structure. The music is great as well, with covers of familiar tunes and an old Björk favourite played up to three times. Original music would have been preferred.
So yeah, I'll probably never see this movie again.
To make this confession more shameful, I neglected to write in my review of Battle Los Angeles that I was touched by the last minute. I imagine that many critics probably discredited the film for shamelessly and predictably leaving the film essentially unfinished and open-ended to suggest a sequel and a Battle franchise. But I think it effectively conveys strong leadership and determination in a central character that is otherwise inadequately developed. I should have mentioned that.
J.D., with whom I saw Battle Los Angeles, updated his Facebook status yesterday that he was going to continue his trend of seeing bad films and see the new Zack Snyder film that night. He had called me the day before and asked if I wanted to see it with him. I said that I'd hang out with him and made no guarantee I'd see the film. But when I read his Facebook status, I realized that only with great resistance and an awkward social situation would I get out of seeing it.
But here I was again, thinking I didn't want to see it, presupposing its quality. I decided to change my perspective. Sure, it has an even lower percentage on Rotten Tomatoes than Battle Los Angeles, but I wonder how many other critics presuppose the quality of a female version of the Gerard Butler epic, 300? I figured if I put up no resistance and see the film with optimism, I could see things other people missed. Maybe I'll actually enjoy it. After all, I am paying to see it; it is only rational to believe that I am spending money for something that will I enjoy.
I wasn't stupid about this. I had read Peter Howell's review in The Toronto Star that the story does not make sense, and that the acting is flat. I knew I wouldn't enjoy it for the writing or the acting. I enjoyed Watchmen, one of Snyder's previous films, but I enjoyed it as a fanboy. Familiar with the comic book on which its based, Snyder's filmmaking talents were not on trial so much as his loyalty to the source material. But the visuals were extraordinary. This was my best clue to enjoying Sucker Punch. I figured that if I was going to enjoy this film, it was probably going to be on that basis alone. I adjusted my expectations accordingly.
As it turns out, there is a lot more going on in Sucker Punch than I thought it would have. It is certainly better than Battle Los Angeles and it might be the most interesting movie in theatres right now. It is not just the visuals that are worth seeing in Sucker Punch. The visuals are lovely; Snyder makes ugly and scary look good. But the film's narrative form is bizarre, which comes as a pleasant surprise. It's confusing and perhaps unintelligible, and I don't like the film enough to ever watch it again, but it was definitely more unique than I expected it to be. I've never seen a movie executed quite like this before. I challenge anyone to name a title with a story told like this.
The story, to refute Peter Howell, makes some sense. Actually, there are two stories and they both make sense. In the first story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is unjustly committed to a mental institution where she is subject to primitive surgical practices and the authority of corrupt guards. In the second story, a young girl, played by Emily Browning, is, at the consent of a priest, unwillingly adopted by a burlesque establishment, the owners of which subject their dancers to public dancing and prostitution. They're implausible, absurd, offensive perhaps, but they make sense.
Most of the film tells the second story. After some workplace drama, the young girl, dubbed Baby Doll, convinces four other captives to help her attain several items needed to escape. Their method is thievery amid distraction by Baby Doll's exceptionally arousing dance routine. Here's where it gets even weirder. Baby Doll's dance routines are never shown. When her dances begin, the film cuts to an epic action sequence. For example, Baby Doll and her four helpers at one point try to attain a map of the burlesque establishment. The plan is that while Baby Doll distracts the management with her dance, one of her helpers, Sweet Pea, will sneak into an office and get a copy of the map posted on the wall. I guess she makes an offscreen photocopy or something. But when Baby Doll starts her dance, the film cuts to a fantasy world: a battlefield in which the five girls are slaughtering robots with gas masks. They are looking for a map in this fantasy too. After much killing and explosions, they find the map. This might have been a fifteen-minute sequence. I can't say it wasn't entertaining. When the action sequence is over, the film cuts back to reality, where Baby Doll's dance is over and Sweet Pea has acquired the map, their mission accomplished. The five girls rejoice backstage in their dressing room.
The film thus defines a formula here that it follows throughout the film: workplace drama, followed by scheming, followed by dance routine and action sequence, followed by rejoicing, repeat. It gets tiresome.
Other critics, including Howell, have claimed that the action sequences are the best part of Sucker Punch. It is a sad truth. If all you like are the action sequences, you're going to be ripping the skin off of your arms waiting for them because they appear about as often as commercial breaks during a TV programme. Faithful to its formula, there aren't many of them, and they aren't important to the story, or stories. I think the film tries to suggest that they somehow represent the girls' turbulent inner strength or their passion for justice or something vague like that. Whatever they mean, as good as they look, they are inconsequential.
The film needs more focus. One of the stories should have been cut, and more care should have been taken to connect fantasies to their reality counterparts. There were moments where, due to the bizarre nature of the film, I was not able to predict the film, which evoked a genuine feeling of concern for the certain characters. But by the last ten minutes of the film, the film had slipped in and out of different stories and fantasies so much that I didn't care who was dead or who survived, who escaped or who got caught. I couldn't seriously invest interest in one story over another, in one character in one story over the same character in another story, or in one character played by one actor in one story over a different character played by the same actor in another story. Wow. Now this review is unintelligible.
When the film ends, I think the film tries to suggest that the action sequences were representations of the inner battles we face in life. Or something like that. I was unmoved. But hey, I wasn't expecting a well-written film, and neither should anyone going to see it. It is visually interesting with an ambitious narrative structure. The music is great as well, with covers of familiar tunes and an old Björk favourite played up to three times. Original music would have been preferred.
So yeah, I'll probably never see this movie again.
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