Thematic Wanderings: The Art Of Getting Away With It

Fellow co-conspirator and book creator E. Hsu, often questions the stuff we watch. Not always the hidden messages, but as a graphic artist herself, the approach. She recently called out the opening shot of Gone Girl, with the head of Rosamund Pike being caressed by an unseen, but clearly masculine hand as the words of Ben Affleck posit questions about his beloved - only to turn ugly in contrast to the hyper-stylized beauty before him.  And suddenly these reminders of what savvy visual storytellers do with their images to let us in came rushing to mind. That cinematic sleight of hand can be employed as a means of drawing in an audience who may not have considered a film's baggage otherwise. Especially considering our rapidly evolving media intake, there is a growing complexity to film that often plays it coy, to occasionally insincere degrees, playing the audience in order to implant conflicting thoughts. Considering the particular filmmaker in this case, it became quite clear that this was a deliberate attempt at playing viewers at their own game. While we have certainly over the past few years seen a few filmmakers over the years employ tactics on the level of a sledgehammer, the hidden, is often the most dynamic, and the style most effective in gathering years of heated controversy. The belief that post-film dialogue is far more constructive than a blunt-forced message (See- The Wachowskis. See- Snowpiercer.). After several discussions regarding the validity of hidden themes in mainstream cinema, the blog seemed to call out for a teensy bit of extra light on this often rocky topic.

Such a contradiction is classic Fincher, where he will often present an evocative visual, but use the soundtrack to offer up either sly humor, or an unreliable establishment to stir matters up. Among his most famous, is the final shot of Fight Club. The slowly pulling image of the narrator and Marla, hand-in-hand while the city's bank buildings topple one after another before them to the almost chorus-like sounds of Pixies' Where Is My Mind?, playing over the devastation. All we had seen up to this point, revealing the ultimate personal revelation of the narrator's journey, with the apocalypse of a confining banking system. Our so-called "villian", is gone, but his plan has gone off without a hitch. Our characters now reside within a new world. The film is asking pointedly about seeking new routes beyond the mundane & self-destructive to achieve our dreams. It's both giddy and harrowing, and ultimately feels emotionally resolved.We have reached thematic critical mass.

"Free yourself".

Chock it all up to your classic scene design and final construction. One can either use the field of vision to convey a clear-cut idea, or mix everything from costume, to set, to lighting, editing, and even music to occasionally blur certain thematic lines. One of the dicier things a filmmaker and crew can do to enhance, and often botch a scene, is with a risky mix and match. Happy music when something sad is occurring on screen, or perhaps a moody voice-over during the scene of a wedding, the means by which films can achieve a complex fabric of emotion is often infinite. But it can also lead to confusion among viewers not savvy to what is happening. And this is often where some critique can diverge between individuals. Mise-en-scène, remains something of a delicate art, and can work wonders depending upon its usage.

So when filmmakers take on more straightforward material, it's pretty easy for the casual viewer to miss elements that are uniquely them. Especially when they are often more adventurous in their projects. It's something that I have witnessed more than ever in recent years, which often leads to many an interesting discussion. Because certain scenes may mean different things to whoever is discussing it, the dialogue can occasionally break down - which can be anathema for some.

A classic recent example is the final montage of The Dark Knight, where a voice-over justifies a cover-up by our heroes, while we witness the fallout from the film's harrowing story. Everything leading up to this moment grants us a picture of an antagonist that has spiritually one-upped the city and it's defenders to the breaking point. And with the last bastion of hope to the community gone, and many dead in its wake, the need to lie to keep his legacy intact is played to the hilt with Batman defending his role as an outsider. What's thematically interesting about this scene, is the score which takes some recurring musical motifs that were introduced in Batman Begins, now take on broken form. They are now in a minor key, mixed with an almost triumphant wail, as if to say that everything we are seeing here is a compromise. Wayne's mission has taken a turn, and is now in an even more morally grey place than he was at the offset. The sweeping camera pans over Commissioner Gordon's speech, flag waving in the background, followed by his destroying of the Bat Signal, all imply that none of this is an ideal outcome. And yet, many a conservative pundit found this ending to be a condoning of certain tactics being used by private entities during the height of the Iraq War. They ultimately missed the part where all of this is proof of how the Joker actually prevailed on a philosophical level. The city will no longer be the same. Criminality may be on the run, but corruption can even ensnare the most well-meaning. It's a psychologically complex, and challenging way to end a blockbuster sequel, and yet it completely got away with positing an uncomfortable truism regarding western civilization.

So for every conceptual swerve a storyteller can dish out, there is always potential for involved dialogue. Which is pretty much a most exciting place to be as a spectator. To drink in the complex, and to have something new to share with another, even if it's a freshly formed idea, is one of the great virtues of art. Problems persist only when everything points to a simple answer. Sure, it can be great to hear something that aligns perfectly with your views, but to experience another's purview is equally as important, if not moreso. As we are consistently evolving creatures, it remains more crucial than ever to allow the exchange to create rivulets, and multicolored fibers. It's what helps us enrich ourselves and each other. But it's especially interesting when we think we are aware of what we are looking at, only to find ourselves stealthily implanted with a vital, impactful new discussion.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2011) Movie Review

After taking in what was thought to be the smoking gun behind one of Sweden's most powerful men by what was thought to be a trusted source, left-leaning publishing legend, Mikael Blomkvist has taken a massive legal hit, rendering him and his magazine in dire straits. In the interim of this near career catastrophy, he is suddenly contacted by a legal representative for one Henrik Vanger, former CEO, and elder lead of one of the country's most influential families. Haunted by mysterious mails containing a single framed flower for every year following a great family tragedy dating back to the 1960s. Vanger's hope is that the shamed Blomkvist could piece together the puzzle regarding his fractured, unstable family who mostly reside on the island of Hedestad along with him as winter ice relentlessly caps the region. The reluctant newsman almost refuses, until Vanger with his great influence and wealth, offers up a possible information bounty that could redeem him, securing his magazine's future. Meanwhile, in Stockholm, Lisbeth Salander, a young, withdrawn & dangerous information gathering genius who has been working under the table for one of the world's most respected security firms has fallen into hard times. Whether Blomkvist is prepared or not, an unlikely alliance is about to form, and a brutal mystery from decades past may prove to be their undoing.

Having mildly enjoyed the original Milennium novels, as well as the Niels Arden Oplev films, one could easily write this huge-budgeted remake as little more than a glossy paycheck for a director who has come quite a ways in nearly 20 years of filmmaking, and for the most part, they'd be considered pinpoint accurate. Working from a script by Oscar favorite, Steve Zaillian, and employing much of the same crew that led Fincher to great heights with last year's The Social Network, this take on the plane-fiction favorite is a classy, often beautiful piece of work. But the core question, as with most even halfway decent remake of a foreign film, is why bother? There is no real good reason as to why. Like so many puzzling studio execs seem to display, there is a severe lack of faith in works that audiences may have to make a little extra effort to enjoy. And it isn't merely the lack of subtitles that makes this version a little strange and borderline cold, it is an unerring lack of dirt or nuance that almost makes the film a sleek, sanitized version of the story, with very little grit to ground it in anything resembling the often grotesque humanity on display. Even for a director who delved into some of the grungiest depths of human depravity in the groundbreaking SE7EN, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is almost bizarrely bereft of gravity, so much so that it practically floats.

Most suspect of the film's problems lie within the script, which take some deep liberties with how the story is told, often to the detriment of characterization which originally was one of the factors that made the originals stand out. From granting the tethers of Blomkvist's life from on and off lover & business partner, Erika Berger (Robin Wright) , and his daughter, Pernilla (Josefin Asplund) time on the island, one almost feels as if the film is eschewing much of the original story's sense of deep isolation, and going out of its way to make the central lead more likeable- which Daniel Craig does a decent enough job of doing without. So many moments prior to his meeting with Salander, which takes up nearly an hour-plus before this happens, seem hell bent on this that it almost undoes emphasis on the investigation itself which almost borders on becoming less a mystery, and more a matter of revelations falling into their laps. If there was anything that Oplev's films did well, was characterize just how labyrinthian the Vanger family's ties made for an engrossing little mystery. In many places, the mystery seems a lot less of a concern here for Fincher, and that his real aim was in expanding upon certain themes he played upon in Social Network, largely regarding personal boundaries, and privacy. One almost might think that he expects viewers to be familiar enough with the source materials in order for him to highlight the relationship between the two leads, which only offers middling results if any. Perhaps the biggest problems come when the film seems required to inform us of their personal stakes in the matter, and never really plays things as honestly as they probably should. It's all more pat than it ever was before, and that's a problem, especially in a film that depicts violence against women the way this one does. The tale between Blomkvist and Salander was never one of love so much as a hint of trust.- in this the film commits its greatest sin, and it almost never recovers from this.


The film's visual and sonic palette however is almost so uniformly gorgeous, one could almost give it highest kudos for being borderline clinical in nearly every respect. From scenic snowy vistas, to near hospital white walls, and humming grays, the cinematography by Fincher favorite, Jeff Cronenweth is immaculate and painterly. Which is countered nicely by the ever nervous intensity of the music provided by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross which perhaps provides the film with the kind of bleak beauty more of the film needed. In fact, alongside which is an impressively out of place credit sequence at the beginning, one might even regard Fincher's Dragon Tattoo as something of a showcase piece no different than his 2002 effort, Panic Room, only with a moodier score. There is infinitely more weight in the craft on display here than is story, which is strange since upon closer inspection, Oplev's films were clearly inspired by directors like Fincher, and yet offered much more in the way of sprawling narrative that the book inspires.

Again, performances are solid enough, only really hampered by a script that seems less ready to delve deeper than it probably should. Rooney Mara is a pretty good Salander, albeit far cuter and domestic than she's ever been portrayed before. She lacks the rage and nuance of Noomi Rapace, but she offers just enough to make her memorable. Daniel Craig's Blomkvist is also a fairly good turn for a man who seems ready to shoulder the everyman hero just as much as a superspy. He lacks the scruffy charm of Michael Nyqvist, but does well enough the same. Also more than welcome is work by Stellan Skarsgård, Christopher Plummer, Joely Richardson and others.

It's just too bad so much of this talent on display seems so used in the name of what is ostensibly lacking in power where it should. As it is, Fincher's first foray into the Milennium trilogy is akin to a sleek, ergonomically brilliant piece of technology based on previous concepts, only with a new design, and half the features. There is clearly a lot of lovely work on display, but at the service of what eludes me.