Memento: Memory and Lies

Some movies can be understood and appreciated with nothing more than a passive viewing--no need of the pause button for a quick trip to the kitchen.*Memento* is not one of those films. Close attention to detail is required in order to catch how the plot and subplots fit together to tell the story. In what begins as an effort to keep up and understand, one becomes acutely engaged, noticing even the most minute points. This effort does not go unrewarded however. Every detail of the film is intended, and an integral part of the story--nothing is superfluous. The payoff is a unique film experience. So what makes this film so remarkable? After all, the guts of the film are essentially classic film noir. Well, let's start with that which stands out the most--Nolan's manipulation of time.


What Nolan does in this film with time is incredibly innovative and original. The film's main plot unfolds in 10 to 15 minute fragments given in reverse chronological order (Leonard's hunt for John G.). These fragments are shown in color, and punctuated by a chronological subplot shown in black and white ( the ongoing telephone conversation in which the story of Sammy Jankis is revealed).




This subplot gives back-story and context, but also provides cohesion to the main plot fragments, which is particularly helpful in the earlier parts of the film. Further comprehensive aid is given through the editing technique. Each successive fragment happens earlier in time than the previous one, but, the final moments of each fragment overlap or repeat the first moments of the previous fragment, connecting them and providing a sense of bearing . While the main plot and subplot unfold in opposite directions in time, a second subplot emerges. It is a reoccurring scene that starts with a closeup of bathroom tile, showing a little more of the scene each time until the entire scene, of what appears to be the murder of Leonard's wife, plays out. So, the involvement required to keep the plots sorted connects the audience in a way that just isn't typical of most films. This connected vibe is amplified by the fact that the audience is experiencing the film in the same way that Leonard experiences life--in confused 15 minute fragments. Thankfully, we are able to string those fragments together without Polaroids or tattoos.

So, is that it? Is Nolan's innovative time manipulation device or devices what make this film remarkable? Of course it is a great story with fascinating characters, and superb acting. But I think there are also intrinsic  elements in the story that connect with everyone, contributing to the punch this film packs. In order to avoid a lengthy digression, I will simply pose two questions that the story provokes: 1) To what extent does our conscious memory constitute our identity? 2) Do we lie to ourselves to be happy? When considering this second question, I think of happiness in the Epicurean sense--equivalent to the absence of pain.


Leonard is the extreme example, willing to go to any length to maintain the absence of pain.

So, I think it is Nolan's  manipulation of time, but also the story, the great acting, and the universal themes to which everyone can relate joined masterfully in concert that make *Memento* a brilliant memorable film.

The Great Gatsby: Over the Top

(This post was originally going to pit 1974 against 2013, but it went another way. However, this post in conjunction with my last highlight some of the major points to that end.)

While I do appreciate Fitzgerald's style and descriptive ability, I think the novel is overrated. It's quite possible that this is due to my lack of literary acumen or lack of taste or both. I imagine my opinion is also affected to some degree by the distance between me and that time in history. It seems to me that this novel may be most fully appreciated by the folks who knew a time before the roaring twenties before the Great War, and then witnessed the societal transformation from that of 19th century Victorianism to the 'anything goes' materialistic world of excess that was the 1920s. The effects of a burgeoning industrial age coupled with the first world war in history must have seemed like pure insanity to many, and Fitzgerald put some of that angst into words.
But aside from Fitzgerald's subtle commentary on the moral and social decay of the time and his unquestionable ability as a prose writer (neither of which is easily, translated to the big screen) there is not much left for a film adaptation--evidenced by the 1974 version. (To clarify, I refer here to a literal translation. I can't imagine the point of adapting the novel as anything else). As has been mentioned in class, the plot is rather sparse.




So what's the solution? Send it 'over the top'. I think pop operatic is one of the terms we've encountered in describing the film. Fill it full of glamour and glitz and the latest in cinematographic technology to distract from the paucity of the plot.







Of course there is one more element required for this novel's successful adaptation; make that two: good acting and Leonardo DiCaprio. The entire cast did a great job in portraying their characters, but DiCaprio was phenomenal at capturing every aspect of Gatsby.

                                       



 Which pink suit looks as though he may have killed a man?

All the glamour and glitz and saturnalia (had to look that one up) in the world wouldn't have mattered without actiiiiiing (A Jon Lovitz reference---here's the skit if your interested--  http://vimeo.com/15476780 -- but I digress.) That said, the acting alone would not have been enough to carry the weight of the plot's lightness. This adaptation needed the pomp and the casting and the acting. It was a good combination.

It's kind of funny. I found myself agreeing with some of David Denby's points in The New Yorker article we read with regard to Luhrmann: "merely a frantic jumble...filled with indiscriminate swirling motion...(Art Deco turned to digitized glitz) thrown at us with whooshing camera sweeps...Luhrmann's vulgarity is designed to win over the young audience..." But I still thought the movie was pretty good. Though it's not in my top ten, I enjoyed Luhrmann's " stunning absence of taste".

So, overall, I think Luhrmann's adaptation is a success; however, I did not care for some of the musical choices. I thought the score was fantastic, and some of the contemporary music, when it fit a particular scene or emotion, was okay; although, a modern arrangement of music from the era would  have been preferable. But what really tore me out of my watching groove was the gangsta type stuff. I don't know, nor do I care to know, the names of songs or artists in that genre by hearing them, I just know it sort of ruined parts of the film for me. Fortunately, there wasn't too much of it. The conversation we had in class about possible reasons for choosing such music was interesting. I think it was suggested that it might have been JZ's or ultimately  Luhrmann's intention to illustrate or make a statement as to how much has changed and that African Americans can be ultra-successful like JZ, or something in that vein. I think that is probably true. I would imagine that was close if not the exact intent. But the notion that some of those choices may have been representational got me thinking. It seems to me that the gangsta choices were ironically more befitting of Fitzgerald's original commentary--a collapse of moral and social standards and conduct. (I will explain in a moment) I'm sure this was not Luhrmann's intent unless it was an incredibly covert submission that took place right under JZ's nose, perhaps too full of the egomaniacal aroma of his own self importance. Naaah, that couldn't have been it.

Anyway, let me explain why I believe some of the music choices reinforce fitzgerald's sentiments, and would have been a brilliant way to incorporate them had they been intentional.

I think JZ may be very talented. I don't know that, but I'm pretty sure Beyonce is very talented. Together, they're probably worth a cool billion. They have it made, and don't need to do anything sleazy to make money. Yet they both choose to be incredibly sleazy. And they must both know that their biggest audience is children. Legions of young people idolize these two; JZ with his lyrics that inspire hate, misogyny, violence, and illiteracy; Beyonce's pornographic music videos glorifying random sex in the back seat of a car. It's sad. I absolutely think that these two and 50 Wayne and Lil sense and all the rest who feed the children that kind of garbage represent the social and moral decay that Fitzgerald was concerned with. Only it's exponentially worse. Kids want to be these people, and don't necessarily make the distinction between what these clowns think of as art and the real world. To be clear, I could not care less what an adult chooses to listen to; although, I can't imagine why Christians would choose this garbage, but it's still their prerogative and their business. It is the children that should be of concern to all of us. Think of what we are raising up; the mentality and morality of our future leaders. It's scary, and, I think, a big problem. If I had no faith at all, I believe I would still find this behavior abhorrent and dangerous. Some moral code some moral fabric is necessary for any society to survive.

I'm running long, so let me just briefly mention three minor things that stood out to me. There were two scenes, besides all the party scenes, in which I thought Luhrmann's grandiose approach complemented or maybe even transcended Fitzgerald's description: the scene where Nick is first reacquainted with Daisy and we see all of those full length billowing curtains that must have been 15 to 20 feet long; and the scene where Gatsby showers Daisy with his shirts. I thought both of those to be nice touches. The final thing I wanted to mention was Nick as a Psychiatric patient. At first, I thought the effect was negligible, but after thinking about it, I decided that that was also a positive. I wonder to whom Luhrmann would have Ishmael or Pip telling their stories.














                               

The Great Gatsby 1974: So It Beats On

I was anxious to see this adaptation while the novel was still fresh in my mind. I have seen many Robert Redford movies from around this time period, and have always been a fan. I can't say what I would have thought of this movie 20 or 30 years ago, or if I had never read the novel. Watching it now after just finishing the novel, and being asked to notice particular things and be generally critical, I must say, for me, the film fell flat. I don't think it really captured the feel of the novel in several respects, and I'm not talking about things that are impossible to translate from words to film, rather things within the control of the film makers. Here are some of the things I think could have been better.

                                                               
WARNING: Keep volume low or wear ear 
plugs; not safe for women who are nursing or may be pregnant; may cause self-inflicted ear-drum mutilation; and, in rare cases, death.

                                                                                                                                                                

                                                                          


Very early in the film, we are abused by the tinny shrill annoyance that is Daisy Buchanan's voice.
What made that experience worse was the expectation of the "low, thrilling voice" the "whispered 'listen'" that Fitzgerald describes. There was one aspect of her voice however that rings true to the novel; her voice was one that "men...found difficult to forget". Mia Farrow is attractive enough, and, in that respect, suitable for the part; however, Daisy's voice is a significant part of Fitzgerald's description of her, too important to ignore.
                
                 

           The Hulking Prancer?
                                                                             
Next, we have Tom Buchanan, whose problem is just the reverse. It is Bruce Dern's physical prowess that is in question here; hardly the hulking figure whose muscles strain against his coat. In this fencing scene, his movements and physique betray his pretended athleticism and suitability for the role of Tom Buchanan. What's worse is, this scene is unnecessary, as it was not in the novel. Dern's personality is fitting for the role; however, I thought he could have been a little meaner, a bit more Dernesque. Also, he's not really the aristocratic type; more like a guy who doesn't shower, kidnaps child cowboys, and shoots old men in the back. I'm not suggesting that he should have, but Redford would have made a better Tom in my opinion, which brings me to what I consider the biggest disappointment, Gatsby himself.


Don't get me wrong. I don't think he was anymore badly cast or acted any worse than the others. For me it was disappointing because Gatsby is the most important character, and I'm a fan of Redford. For much of the film, he fits the idea of Gatsby. The problem is he never finds Gatz. He is never out of place, never really vulnerable, never really nervous. I never felt like he was Gatz pretending to be Gatsby--no facade. I would like to think Redford was just to cool for this part, but I fear the truth is simply a narrow range in his acting ability.

        Too Cool or Not Enough Acting School ???
                                         

The film was definitely a literal translation of the novel with a few minor embellishments, but even this ultimately works against the finished product, in my opinion. It's not that it's literal, it's the way it's literal, trying to 'copy and paste' chapter for chapter from text to film. What I mean is, it just feels like its trudging from one scene to the next, as if someone says, okay now we'll do this paragraph. It drags. One of the articles we read said that it takes about as long to read the novel as to watch this film, and then suggested the former--I agree. As I write these words, I realize I'm being very hard on this picture. Like I said before, under different circumstances, perhaps in 1974, it might have been a little better. (I'm not saying the age of the film makes it bad. There were plenty of films made in the 70s, and before, that are still great today). Seeing the 2013 version first probably didn't help though.

There were several more issues for me, but I will just mention this last one. How does one end the film 'The Great Gatsby' without quoting the vastly famous last line? Makes no sense to me. I'm afraid this film should be "borne back ceaselessly into the past".

On a positive note, the attention to detail with the cars, the music, and the dancing was impeccable.

I'll probably regret this, as I'm sure there are some fans of this version out there. What do you think?
Did the film do the book justice?  If not, was it acting, casting, something else, or just 1974?
If so, how; other than simply being literal?