Thematic Wanderings: Star Trek Into Greyness

For all the ribbing I felt compelled to give JJ Abrams' latest, there certainly was enough ligament holding this adventure together, even as so much of it was tearing at the hinges toward the finale. Considering the more optimistic first outing which was reminiscent of the most forward thinking elements of the original television series, it was only natural that the second would be taking a more troubled path. Middling review aside, there was a small breadth of familiar subtext doled out throughout the film, again loudly ringing a decade where a society's technologically unbridled new horizons found itself compromised by fear & machination at the hands of an unscrupulous few. In a post- Dark Knight world, it's suddenly clear that commenting upon a nation losing course has been the chic text of choice for major blockbusters, and Into Darkness cannot see itself out of this particular thematic mire.



When we last visited the newly formed crew of the USS Enterprise, matters had reached a state of promising calm as newly dubbed Captain James Tiberius Kirk found himself what seems to be his predestined home.  Starting off as a more volatile version of the ever cavalier lead, his arc centered largely on discovering his own sense of resolve, as well as the importance of his once great scholarly rival, and now unexpected comrade in Commander Spock. By way of living out this wholly new timeline created by a vengeful Romulan, much of Trek involves the cast in one manner or another finding their respective places upon the legendary starship by way of their already well-implanted character. It's so much less about science fiction than it is a treatise on not only familiar pop culture staples, but also of the post-Bush years, and the promise inherent in new leadership amidst sweeping change. As loud, brash, and often jumbled as the first film is, it's buoyed largely by a terrific new cast, and an infectious shot of enthusiasm.


As Into Darkness shotguns us into matters, we are given a Bond-esque sequence involving the Enterprise as they race to save a nascent planet from volcanic destruction. (the key problem being a need to do this whilst keeping within the parameters of the Prime Directive) It's a collossally fun, yet absurd opening which is meant to evoke some of the more loopy action episodes of the TV series- with that oh-so contemporary shot of adrenaline. With this cartoony take on the average Trek adventure at the front of the film, celebrating all that is colorful and fun about the world and characters, it isn't long before Kirk is punished for his resolution of the matter, and subsequently punished and stripped of his ranking. His one-time greatest support and quasi-father figure, Pike's patience is on one end running on empty with this often troublesome kid, and on the other, eager to grant him one more chance. These early scenes while standard for fare such as this, is also meant to remind us of a more romantic Starfleet that is soon to be in great jeopardy.


Our first run-in with this, is upon first catching up with Admiral Pike, and the fateful incident that sets the remainder of the film in motion. Unlike the original film's yen for colorful uniforms, we are introduced to a more militaristic array of grey upon all major players in Starfleet upon reaching Earth. Terror has hit too close to home, and matters of scientific advancement have yielded new, and increasingly complicated new dangers that have spurred on a need for Starfleet to take on a more defensive role. A shift in overall policy that runs counter to everything that the Federation (and our characters) have long stood for. With a number of high ranking officials (and innocent bystanders)killed by surprise attacks, Kirk is then pitted between his loyalty to his friends and the Starfleet way of peaceful exploration, and a need for settling the score against terror suspect, the deadly former Federation "agent" known as John Harrison. The once bright reds of the fresh faced newcomers to this space faring society have now given way to a more grim, hard gray that is made even clearer in a scene involving Kirk & Spock seeking permission from Admiral Marcus in order to pursue and take down the aforementioned criminal. Their uniforms in the scene denote a trim, closer to original uniform, albeit in dead tones, implicating a tainting of the original look, and therefore the thrust of their lives. In no way is this subtle, but it gets things across pretty viscerally.


And as the film progresses, and Kirk, despite regaining his command, seems at odds with nearly everyone on the bridge. As conditions after conditions come down from Starfleet high brass, Kirk seems more and more ready to accept some ethically questionable caveats to a mission that seems poised to be one of seek and destroy; something that couldn't be further from Starfleet's way. Having triangulated Harrison's location to the planet, Kronos, the heart of the now increasingly troublesome Klingon Empire, matters are worsened as Kirk is ordered to make a stand against this dangerous man without causing an interstellar incident in the process. Not to mention the ever more problematic addition of military grade torpedoes that have been brought about the Enterprise, under orders that they be the ones used against Harrison upon detection. Naturally, the reasons for this are not made clear, and Kirk is eventually placed at greater odds with all that he holds dear when he find himself relieving the ever-loyal and upright, Scotty of his duties for questioning these foggy orders. While some may consider this intensely un-Trek-like, this is precisely the point. It is this incident, and consequently the protests of Uhura, McCoy, and ultimately Spock, that make up the bulk of the film's thematic aim.




The remainder of the film tinkers with this debate as a society based upon diversity, pluralist cooporation, and nonviolent exploration is frightened toward taking a more martial posture. Kirk is ground zero again for a voyage of self discovery, this time being a test of how far he is willing to go for the well being of his ship and crew. His penchant for rewriting protcol, and diving in without looking has reached an impasse where he must consider the costs, and at the same time stick to his own principles regardless of word from above. Pike believed in that something larger than both of them surged deep within what Starfleet could be, and to witness the ferocity of Harrison's rage toward a Federation whom he feels wronged him, and an impending conflict with a near-babraric alien race stands to countermand all of it. The movie goes so far to make this a point that it even makes nods to the use of high-tech surveillance security, drones, and private security as recently mentioned by The New York Times. And while the drone issue can be summed up well by the torpedo element, it is merely a smaller part of a larger whole as the film comes in the wake of great change in focus in regards to very real space exploration, and heightened military and private security spending.




When the truth of the torpedoes is revealed, it goes deeper into international politics as witnessed heavily over the last decade-plus now. One of the largest plot quibbles I had with the film centers on this, and the whims of one major Starfleet name in the name of covering up past mistakes by potentially sparking a war which could cost more lives than it could ever save. If it had been portrayed in a manner that implies secrets within more complicated ranks, it might have translated much more smoothly, but as it is, it comes off far too simplistic (especially when your gargantuan warship seems to have noone trailing you- one would think that such an investment would have a great deal of eyes on it.) Moves motivated by fear and despair create the film's overall plot as our leads must contend with becoming everything they had once stood against. Sound familiar, yet? Heck, even at the film's finale which is set one year later where Kirk is giving a speech about what had been gleaned from the whole "Harrison" incident(s), while we see things put away for safe keeping, and life returning to "normal", we are reminded of two simple things; War with the Klingon empire is more inevitable than ever AND, the grey military look continues to hover over the cast.


If one might be so facile, Into Darkness is a vision of an America at a spiritual crossroads that has taken a great deal longer than it has had any right to do so. Even as new, young perspectives enter the fray of leadership, the fear and pragmatism of the elder generation has left a void where promise would normally reside. Much like a virus, the idealism of the Federation has been corrupted and compounded by higher-ups who once saw themselves as protectors of these ideals, leaving them(and anyone else succeptible) vulnerable to infection. If the 2009 Trek was the Obama promise, then Into Darkness is the dilemma of that promise at odds with a world made grayer by the fearful who came before.


And while it isn't entirely successful in how it gets these things across in much satisfying fashion, it's also something that has been on the minds of most large budget tentpole filmmakers since 2008. Even this year's Iron Man 3 took a crack at this, and also swerved away from being too pointed whilst obviously being very snippy about the Bush years, turning the whole thing into a Hangover-like joke. It is now beyond chic to bite the hand that feeds while pretending to be mindless popcorn, and yet never going whole hog. This said, if only such themes were explored fully and naturally in this instance, because Into Darkness's last third couldn't be more like a comical digression writ large. One of the largest cases of buckling and pandering in movie history, I feel. If any place could deliver an even more potent message about our potential as explorers in our own right, Trek should have been it.

Wreck-It Ralph: Immigration, Eminent Domain & True Democracy

Kind of funny to consider that the last time I went on about a Disney-produced film taking on prescient socio-political issues by way of childhood playthings, it was at the hands of animation stalwarts, PIXAR whose films have continued to break box office records, conventions, and deliver on multiple fronts. And to add this to how 2012 has played itself out, it's also amusing to see these guys, and the more traditional Disney studios seemingly switch roles as Brave seemed more comfortable in continuing the ever changing Princess narrative. So in comes 's irresistibly charming Wreck-It Ralph, a film that not only makes a near-perfect play for this generation's Toy Story, but also carries within it, a bold set of statements regarding a changing, more aware American narrative. This couldn't be more clear from the opening scenes in which we learn of our title "bad guy", and the circumstances surrounding nearly thirty years of living in the shadow of video game hero, Fix-It Felix.

As the voice of John C. Reilly's Ralph, his hulking brute physique, and tendency toward violence toward the buildings within the game world he lives in is based on the limited programming of the era, but it wasn't without reason. The narration and flashbacks establish immediately that before Felix and the clean-cut, seemingly well-to-do citizenry of this world came about, Ralph was living on the land where this building now stands. Bullied off, and doomed to live in a literal dump, and understandably upset Ralph then took it upon himself to rebel, thereby wrecking this structure on a regular basis. And this ensuing battle between the estranged Ralph, and the ever persistent "fixing" of Felix, to the rejoicing of the diminutive citizenry continued on for decades, leading to an upcoming 30th anniversary of the game's existence. No small feat for a game largely surrounded by newer, flashier machines. ( A point which we'll get back to shortly)

So when the time comes, and Ralph wishes to be at the very least acknowledged for his role in the game's history, he is practically ignored at an anniversary party--even as Felix himself basks in the limelight, he too cannot help but hope Ralph remains in his "predestined" place. Cake metaphor goes even further to display his own tiny shred of hope that what he does serves a greater purpose. The game's mayor, and party attendees seem content in knowing that he live forever as an outsider, even as they neglect that without him, there is no game. So when Ralph takes it upon himself to break protocol, and escape the confines of his machine in hopes of seeking another way of attaining adulation and respect amongst the elite,  it shouldn't be too much of a stretch to begin putting the pieces together as his first attempt toward his goal, is to enter a hyper-violent first person shooter in the hopes of winning a medal. Proof that he himself is capable of respect in his home, he attempts to brave the horrors of realistic combat in a futuristic alien environment. Which is where he acquaints himself with Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun, a rough and ready soldier, a hardened warrior with a hidden past. Mere moments in, Ralph finds himself beyond over his head, but still figuring a shortcut toward his goal.

It isn't long after this, when Ralph finds himself within the colorful realm of the chibi-racer Sugar Rush, where he meets his match in Vanellope von Schweetz, a perky underdog with the distinction of being dubbed a "glitch". (an outsider feared for what she could mean to the game as a whole) Within the kingdom of Sugar Rush, the local monarch in the form of King Candy is seen as a befuddled, happy old chap with a seemingly benevolent nature, save for his concern over Vanellope, who is seen as something that could mean certain doom for a game's existence in the arcade. Sequestered to an unknown section of the game, Vanellope intends to race no matter what which perfectly mirrors the dilemma of Ralph, making them perfectly unlikely foils to a seemingly rigged pyramid.

This is made all the more explicit after Ralph's disappearance from his game renders his once-dismissive compatriots useless, forcing the game to be deemed "out of order".--[IE- Irrelevant]

So what does this all add up to in the end? I don't find it out of the realm of possibility that Wreck-It Ralph joins Cloud Atlas in this season's stories regarding the changing face of class, and the ever-present reality of eminent domain, meaning the role of a society's unseen, often those native to developing nations who are often politicized in a negative light in hopes of maintaining a currently popular reality. Ralph and Vanellope, natives to their respective worlds, find themselves displaced, and often ignored by those in power. Both eager to prove their mettle and value to the group, their mutual arcs reflect an idle worship of a system they themselves have surrendered to. Ralph moreso than Vanellope, who stands proudly alongside many of her own imperfections. So when he finds himself in his greatest inner conflict, it is within the faith of another with similar problems does Ralph find redemption beyond what the current paradigm could possibly reward. While so many in the worlds of these games adhere to an invisible order that resembles a top-down monarchy, it is Ralph and Vanellope's divergence that offers up a more realistic vision of the societies they inhabit.

So when we look at the clean-cut, blue eyed representation of infrastructure in Fix-It Felix, we are given a peek into privilege at a loss to understand a larger world view. His story, while endlessly perky, and helpful, is only so, like Ralph, due to his programmed fate. He is merely following protocol without question, to the adulation of the mayor, and clearly rich citizenry. Never considering that without Ralph, he is essentially useless. And as a bonus, his schoolboy yen for Calhoun is particularly suspect when considering the American narrative in regards to the privileged throughout history. Tying this back to Ralph's frightening tour within Hero's Duty, and the immigration ( and perhaps even the gentrification of so-called "lower" classes) issue, everything makes pointed, brutal sense.

When one considers the wacky, pixel-heavy world of Wreck-It Ralph, one may be able to see past the gloss to find themselves thinking a little more about where we as a nation are today, and perhaps once and for all consider how we all arrived at this point. And hopefully, those who do may consider a greater narrative that is perhaps more human than any play at generational familiarity a movie can be.  

Thematic Wanderings: The Dark Knight Rises

An all new feature of The Wandering Kaijyu, where we take a closer dig into a popular work (old or new), and do our best to decipher past the scaly skin. Beware: Spoilers Ahead!

Upon giving Christopher Nolan's hotly debated finale, and also taking in many of the net-o-sphere's discussions/reviews of the film. And even though I stand by many in that the epic concluding chapter in The Dark Knight Trilogy is a bit of a messy kitchen-sink of a film littered with far too many ideas, and nowhere near the time and care necessary to deliver it all. But upon sifting a little harder, one can to a certain degree see a set of core conceits and concerns that were definitely on the minds of the Nolan brothers during the writing and filmmaking process that should allow some curious viewers some additional thought.

But first, a little attempt at debunking..

There is definitely a point within the film where one could easily opine that all that is happening on screen in indeed a slight against the current "Occupy" movement, and thus, a pro 1% statement. But upon closer examination, there is at least an attempt to offer a counterargument. Now without pretending that the film actually succeeded in sending it all home, let's go into this bit by bit.

A. Upon the arrival of Bane, and the siege of Gotham is under way, the bulk of those suffering the wrath of this affront seem to be of the city's wealthy. A good chunk of this very much seems ready to defend those of privilege.

However - With the fate that befalls Bruce Wayne, we also see a man of privilege go through the early stages of a full arc that is at the center of the narrative. His prolonged absence from the public eye has included a complete inability to engage directly with not only the citizens, and fellow business minds at Wayne Enterprises, which has as a result fallen into disarray. A large part of what has been neglected in the eight years since the disappearance of the Batman, has been the loss of moneys that largely supported local charities such as the boys home that once housed John Blake.

And while this again may seem like a tear being shed for the poor, privileged protagonist, the film also goes to great lengths to remind Wayne that even as his business falters, he will remain secure with a large mansion, and a butler to serve him. With all his worries, there truly is nothing for him to truly fear at any real survival level. In no way is he seen as sympathetic, or even remotely prepared for what is is meant to face by the film's climax. Great lengths are made to see that Wayne is not an instantly sympathetic lead at this point in the series.

But this is a portent to what will become the crux of the film's second half.

Why the 1% argument falters: 

While we see Wayne, and eventually the rich suffer large in the first half of the film, the counterbalance is brought in not only in Bane and crew who clearly came from the depths of society, but by "street level" such as Blake and of course, Selina Kyle, who is who she is despite her rocky past. Strong, brutal, seductive and clever, she is a reminder of those left behind in the city. As is the young patrolman, Blake, who grew up and orphan, and has become a sympathetic and observant member of Gotham PD. It is these two, combined with the already grounded soul in Commissioner James Gordon who represent those less spoken for in the city.

 After Batman/Bruce Wayne has been dispatched into a faraway undisclosed prison, where he is sent by Bane to suffer and wallow in his ultimate defeat, it is Gordon and a number of police who weren't buried in explosion rubble. And it is in their ground level actions that set up the notion that Batman is no longer even considered in any plans to save the city. By using the most basic methods such as notes on strings, secret meetings, and minimal to no firepower, the struggle to undo Bane's island-wide stranglehold is as bare-bones as it gets. It is the complete antithesis of Bruce Wayne's dependence on Lucius Fox's inventions to even walk straight. (the knee-brace is almost instantly a reminder of the expensive, often unusual technological needs Wayne is often dependent on to do what he does - something the remaining cops of Gotham do not have - It is also a big reminder of just how ill-prepared he is for the coming struggle.)


B. The final melee between the freed army of Gotham Police and Bane's army is tasteless as it features the cops beating down on the city's disenfranchised.

Now this is where it is more a case of faulty information delivery by the filmmakers, because the final battle on the steps of Wall Street is clearly between those with nothing, and others who have been armed, most of which have merely been established as remnants of the army that had been around from the beginning section of the film, and many of the escaped from Black Gate Prison (not any manner of "disenfranchised"). This is clear due to one of my largest gripes of the final film - We never see any testimonials or asides from ordinary citizens. It is one of the more egregious mistakes that the film makes, skipping out on reactions from people on the streets, in their homes, anyone who's opinions/observations might have shed some light on the overall mood of Gotham City before, and during the citywide takeover. Many might remember that The Dark Knight often took the time to allow many ordinary people (and not merely police) to voice their concerns over the threat of both Batman and The Joker's costly street war. We get a few shots here and there of families and children, but no grounding to help Bane's cause gather steam. No angry words about the Mayor's run as the Dent Act has cleared the streets, possibly creating other side effects across the city. Worse yet, we never hear both sides of the argument over Bane's scapegoating against Gotham's most powerful and "corrupt". This is perhaps where a majority of that fallacy's origin comes from. Even as Nolan and Co. attempt to call upon all sides to cast aside their circumstances, there's never enough of the disconnect and/or coming to terms with this often black and white presentation.

But again, much of what is actually established in the film, is that the armed horde awaiting the wholly outgunned police are followers of Bane's ideology, or are merely armed criminals/mercenaries.

So now, as we take a cue from that last section, what is Bane, and what is he about?

Well for anyone paying attention to the film, this one is a freebie and a half. As the film's heavy, also of a difficult background growing up in a deep, dark hell of a prison, Bane is the spiritual opposite of Blake, Kyle, etc. in that he has spent his entire life conquering those whom he deems unworthy of their stature. His background is that of the League Of Shadows, who eventually ex-communicated him for being far too "extreme". And considering the League's draconian worldview, it's safe to say that his skewed rendition is of a higher contrast level of black and white. It is this warped perception that leads to his reign of terror over Gotham as he sits on a slowly decaying nuclear weapon. His poisonous words and notions are that of what could happen to a movement such as Occupy, if it were to be perverted by those with other agendas. His absolution is everything that Bruce/Batman has employed on a micro level turned outward and amplified. Bruce, while in prison, is forced to see the world he helped create should such narrowness infiltrate every level of the city. - It is totalitarianism. Communism no less.

So when the film's final third comes along, it culminates with Bruce Wayne directly facing a similar worldview as those he always claimed to be defending. Broken, and tossed into a deep and deadly pit, he is forced to crawl. In the prison, he is granted his first true taste of living with nothing. With only a rope as a reminder of the shackles/tethers that his life always came with. And it is in the final moments in this setting that he comes full circle by removing the rope, and acknowledging fear, that he is capable of meeting Bane on equal terms. (The lack of subtlety during those shots of the two fighting on the steps-of WALL STREET is staggering) It is also telling that in the epilogue, Wayne Mansion is turned into a grand scale boys home, again reinforcing the concerns at the beginning that implies that a better means of fighting crime lies in helping the community at its roots, rather than with the ever growing symptoms of poverty, and lack of engagement between all sectors.

Whether the film succeeded at all in getting these across is debatable. But it is there. Where it all goes wrong, is that there is nowhere near enough coverage on the city side to make any of it work in any cohesive fashion. (especially in lieu of the manner in which Wayne's arc is resolved). There are also the big moments delivered by the female cast members at the finale which again offers the film a pluralist bent. It's just too bad the film fails to hold these disparate elements together enough.