I believe that a person should become like other people-Travis Bickle
Normal. A word we all use everyday to describe something that we don’t fully understand. I mean, after all, what does normal even mean? It would seem to be the average member of the subgroup being discussed. But none of us are actually normal. We perceive ourselves as something that sticks outside of the vein of normal activities, normal diet, and normal ideas. And we constantly seek to be a member of this normal group that does everything in a normal way. Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver is also one of these people. He just wants to be like other people. The blatantly obvious flaw in this desire is that he can never be himself, and thereby, can never be really satisfied. All of his actions in the films are motivated by this urge to be a part of some larger community, to end his increasingly depraved alienation by acting normal. Unfortunately, his perspective on the world is not conducive to this endeavor. And this leads to his eventual downfall.
The movie begins with Travis applying for a job as a taxi driver, a job that might help cure his insomnia, a job that might allow him to meet new people, but mostly a job that allows him to be normal. He is one of several hundred, if not thousand taxi drivers in NYC. He is suddenly no longer alone. But a taste is not sufficient to sate his hunger. He falls for Betsy (Cybil Sheppard), a campaign worker for the democratic nominee for president, and one day gets the courage to ask her out. They go to a diner where he orders apple pie and she a salad. We, the audience, know that his conversation is anything but sincere, rather it is a façade that he puts up, trying to convince her that he is not a whack job. She finds his bumbling cute and agrees to another date with him. This is when things go sour.
He takes her to a porn theater. It sounds a lot worse than it actually is. I actually find it quite adorable (and will go down in history for calling Travis Bickle by such an adjective). The only thing he knows about dates is that it includes a movie, and that he sees people go on dates to the afore-mentioned theater. All he wants to do is something that seems to be normal, but his limited perspective on normal stunts his ability to get along in the world. He can’t cope when her rejection stems from something he has seen done a thousand times. He reacts like a puppy that is being punished. He didn’t know any better. After she storms off and he gets back into his taxi, he has his first encounter with Iris (Jodie Foster). As they say, when one doors closes, another opens.
Iris becomes his new project, as he continues to deal with the rejection from Betsy. Iris is a 12 year old prostitute. The first time he is given a 20 by her pimp (Harvey Keitel) and told to forget it. The second time, he almost hits her with his cab. After that he seeks her out and procures her services in order to convince her to get away. His primary complaint with her activities is that they do not fit into his perception of normal. He thinks, as do most of us that 12 year olds should be in school instead of strutting their stuff on a street corner.
The third chapter to this story begins just after meeting her. He decides that he needs to get back into shape. His muscles are not what they used to be, and he needs something to protect himself. So he works out when he is off duty, and purchases several handguns. He also takes apart basic household objects to reduce the amount of effort required to draw said guns. It is around here that he has his famous “You talkin’ to me?” speech. This speech is a continuation of the normality that he pursues. He inflates himself with a sort of pseudo-machismo trying to be some sort of superhuman. As the bard will tell us, there’s the rub. Because when it comes down to brass tacks, normality is a fantasy. It’s really a rehash of the Platonic theory of forms. There is some form that is beyond our comprehension that we are all based upon and seek to become. We all wish to be this Ubermensch of Nietzschean proportions. We stare into the abyss of normality, and the abyss stares back.
Effectively we are all Travis Bickle. We live in a world devoid of reason, devoid of morals, and devoid of truth. We can go to the street corner to sleep with Iris, or get an instant hamburger, made with only 10 % beef and 90 % plastic. The irony of the last scene in this film, and I’ll try not to ruin it, is that it is extremely surreal. Things happen that would not normally happen. Perhaps this is a symptom of some medical condition, or it is his idea of heaven, but his actions are understood for the heart behind them instead of the extent to which he broke the law. For that matter, vigilante justice is never looked highly upon, and Bickle would go to prison for what he did, but instead he lives a happy life and even gets to see Betsy again in a positive light. In all actuality his actions would be condemned, and he would be called a madman. Also, certain authorities would recognize him, and he would spend many years in jail. As it is, everything ends happily. The point here is that the world could be better. Someone could do something good outside of the laws and be recognized for it. But its not, and they won’t be. We are all tragically alone in this world. Unfortunately, we too are stuck in a downward spiral, a spiral that leads to only one destination, that of the abyss.
1.25.2009
The 40-Year-Old Virgin's Assault on Modern Masculinity.
We are in the middle of a paradigm shift. These occur once every 20 years or so, sometimes even less frequently, but it is happening again. Our perception of what it means to be a man is rapidly changing. Films such as Fight Club and American Beauty tackled the new face of masculinity in today’s culture, and they succeeded to a point. I prefer them over The 40-Year-Old Virgin. I do not, however, think they did a better job at showing what has become of the modern American male. This is not an essay on ethics, on whether or not premarital sex is good or bad; rather it is here to discuss how we perceive and cope with it in the new century. Whereas Fight Club and American Beauty were gritty with comic relief, The 40-Year-Old Virgin deals with these issues using jokes that nowadays mostly appeal to the 16-25 demographic. But if you fail to recognize the undercurrent of this humor, you miss the point of the movie.
Andy (played wonderfully by Steve Carell) is the titular character who works at a seemingly local electronic store. One night he is invited to play poker with the guys and they begin an innocent conversation about the nastiest, raunchiest, dirtiest things that they have done to their sexual partners. But when it is Andy’s turn, he struggles to come up with a realistic story, and they figure out that he has not yet done the deed. And so it begins that his buddies at work try to get him laid. From waxing his chest and responding in the form of a question, to “tackling drunk [women],” Andy attempts everything, but can’t quite follow through. One day he meets the attractive, but intentionally not stunning, Trish (Catherine Keener) and really does fall for her. Now he must figure out whether to act with his heart, or follow his friends’ increasingly ludicrous suggestions.
Sex is not something that is important for Andy. As he relates at the poker table, he tried when he was young, and as it didn’t work out, more time passed, and he just stopped trying. The thing that makes it important to him is his friends. He just wants to be one of the guys, so he’s willing to go along with their plan for so long, but at one point he makes them stop because now he’s smitten with Trish. And he just wants to do this his own way. She likes him for who he is, and even challenges him to 20 dates without sex, a request with which he is more than willing to comply. He would rather not have sex. But she, as is implicit in her challenge, knows that that is what all men want. And when he doesn’t even want sex on the night of their 20th date, this very fact frightens her. She becomes so paranoid as to accuse him of being a sexual predator and using mentos as roofies. I mean who wouldn’t want to have sex. Sex is something expected of our culture today. The adults expect it and the teens who haven’t done it are growing into a small minority. I am not condemning this, I am simply pointing out that this is different for the popular understanding as of 20 years ago.
People have sex, but this movie points out that sex does not just make you a member of the largest fraternity on the planet. It is not just one of the stepping stones. It has become the most important. To have sex now means to become a man. Nothing else is required.
There are also two other scenes that are relevant to the masculinity issue, although they are on a different note. The first is the running joke told between David (Paul Rudd) and Cal (Seth Rogen), which is comprised of “Know how I know you’re gay?” and an appropriate response. But what do they really mean? Do they mean gay as in homosexual? Perhaps, but I think it goes deeper than that. Namely, if a man is gay and, thereby, does not have sex with women, how can he be a man, in the masculine sense? So these guys have endowed the word gay with a sense of castration. And there are certain attributes that are considered synonymous with being castrated. One of these is being a virgin, as is pointed out at the poker game. Before they deduce that he is a virgin, they think he must be gay. There is little difference in popular opinion. Also doing such things as listening to Coldplay, liking Maid in Manhattan, and being “celibate” confirm your apparent gay-ness.
The other scene in one in which Andy takes Trish’s daughter to a birth control clinic. At the meeting, the fellow participants discuss their fabricated sex lives. Despite the fact that they are all under the age of 17, they claim a diverse set of experiences which seem as if they could only come from a pornographic film. These teens have seen them and brag about being able to perform as well as Ron Jeremy. Teens used to brag about their cars and how fast they could go (which Freud would say is not very different), but now they talk of their respective abilities. Rank has always been determined by something comparable to the amount of testosterone or libido that an individual had, but not since the influx of Christianity has the Western world, of which we as America make up only a small part, based the threshold between man and boy on sex.
Andy (played wonderfully by Steve Carell) is the titular character who works at a seemingly local electronic store. One night he is invited to play poker with the guys and they begin an innocent conversation about the nastiest, raunchiest, dirtiest things that they have done to their sexual partners. But when it is Andy’s turn, he struggles to come up with a realistic story, and they figure out that he has not yet done the deed. And so it begins that his buddies at work try to get him laid. From waxing his chest and responding in the form of a question, to “tackling drunk [women],” Andy attempts everything, but can’t quite follow through. One day he meets the attractive, but intentionally not stunning, Trish (Catherine Keener) and really does fall for her. Now he must figure out whether to act with his heart, or follow his friends’ increasingly ludicrous suggestions.
Sex is not something that is important for Andy. As he relates at the poker table, he tried when he was young, and as it didn’t work out, more time passed, and he just stopped trying. The thing that makes it important to him is his friends. He just wants to be one of the guys, so he’s willing to go along with their plan for so long, but at one point he makes them stop because now he’s smitten with Trish. And he just wants to do this his own way. She likes him for who he is, and even challenges him to 20 dates without sex, a request with which he is more than willing to comply. He would rather not have sex. But she, as is implicit in her challenge, knows that that is what all men want. And when he doesn’t even want sex on the night of their 20th date, this very fact frightens her. She becomes so paranoid as to accuse him of being a sexual predator and using mentos as roofies. I mean who wouldn’t want to have sex. Sex is something expected of our culture today. The adults expect it and the teens who haven’t done it are growing into a small minority. I am not condemning this, I am simply pointing out that this is different for the popular understanding as of 20 years ago.
People have sex, but this movie points out that sex does not just make you a member of the largest fraternity on the planet. It is not just one of the stepping stones. It has become the most important. To have sex now means to become a man. Nothing else is required.
There are also two other scenes that are relevant to the masculinity issue, although they are on a different note. The first is the running joke told between David (Paul Rudd) and Cal (Seth Rogen), which is comprised of “Know how I know you’re gay?” and an appropriate response. But what do they really mean? Do they mean gay as in homosexual? Perhaps, but I think it goes deeper than that. Namely, if a man is gay and, thereby, does not have sex with women, how can he be a man, in the masculine sense? So these guys have endowed the word gay with a sense of castration. And there are certain attributes that are considered synonymous with being castrated. One of these is being a virgin, as is pointed out at the poker game. Before they deduce that he is a virgin, they think he must be gay. There is little difference in popular opinion. Also doing such things as listening to Coldplay, liking Maid in Manhattan, and being “celibate” confirm your apparent gay-ness.
The other scene in one in which Andy takes Trish’s daughter to a birth control clinic. At the meeting, the fellow participants discuss their fabricated sex lives. Despite the fact that they are all under the age of 17, they claim a diverse set of experiences which seem as if they could only come from a pornographic film. These teens have seen them and brag about being able to perform as well as Ron Jeremy. Teens used to brag about their cars and how fast they could go (which Freud would say is not very different), but now they talk of their respective abilities. Rank has always been determined by something comparable to the amount of testosterone or libido that an individual had, but not since the influx of Christianity has the Western world, of which we as America make up only a small part, based the threshold between man and boy on sex.
1.24.2009
Being John Malkovich-Or Anyone Else
“Consciousness is a terrible curse. I think, I feel, I suffer.” These words are spoken by Craig Schwartz (John Cusack) early in this film, a film about escaping the confines of your own world view. It is a film about the grass on the other side, and whether or not it is as green as they say. But more importantly it is a film of human emotion in the face of very real shortcomings, the ineptitude of us all as we seek to do something of value in this world. We try for what is important, but can never quite make it there. Fortunately, and in a more optimistic tone, in this odyssey we discover things of immutable truth and beauty, realizing that the notions we held previously did not represent something worth chasing, and if we take the time to notice them, and look past the impossible fantasies we have for ourselves, then maybe we can achieve true happiness. The problem lies in recognizing what is good.
Craig is a puppeteer whose life reflects little of his preferred occupation. As a puppeteer, he seeks to control, but in actuality his wife Lottie (Cameron Diaz, in her best performance yet) is the breadwinner as he constantly works on perfecting his art as “there’s no room for puppeteers in today’s wintry economic climate.” She does, however finally convince him to go job hunting, and he finds the most bizarre and life-changing job anyone has ever had. He applies at Lestercorp, a company that specializes in meeting your filing needs. The ceilings are a whole 5 ½ feet tall, the receptionist has a degree in speech impedimentology from Case Western and can’t understand anything that is said to her, and the orientation video presents an explanation for the low overhead, that is beyond fantastical. He also meets Maxine, a foxy young employee at another business on the 7 ½ floor. After a couple days of stumbling around asking her out, he finally convinces her to go get a drink with him. She abruptly leaves as soon as she finds out that he is a puppeteer. The next day is when he discovers the portal.
The portal is an even smaller door that is located behind some filing cabinets, as if the floor weren’t already claustrophobic enough. As soon as Craig goes through the door and down a dirt tunnel, he is rushed into the mind of John Malkovich (played by John Malkovich). One of the great ironies of this film occurs in the 15 minutes he spends in Malkovich’s mind. As celebrity, and one of the great actors of the 20th century, we would expect him to be doing something amazing. In fact, we can’t even tell that it is someone out of the ordinary until we see his face, and even then, he still behaves like a “normal guy.” His taxi driver recognizes him and has a brief conversation with him, but Malkovich just like you and me. He is simply eating toast and going to work. In fact, it is interesting to note that only when Craig learns how to possess John Malkovich does he begin to do thing out of the ordinary. Prior to that, he is reading Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, picking out hand towels, taking a shower, and rehearsing for his performance of Shakespeare’s Richard III. He is just like us non-celebrities, except for that very distinction. He is famous, and none of us are. We wish we were perhaps, but only he is. This very celebrity status, when combined with Craig’s puppetry allows Craig to do what he has always wanted, or at least the dream he thought was true. He also wants to sleep with Maxine and Malkovich is the easiest way to do that. Lottie discovers herself in Malkovich, and sees being him as the most natural way to become male.
This film also flips the actor/character relationship on its head. John Malkovich is an actor who possesses a sort of immunity with his characters. He is able to be exactly who he wants to be, eliminating his shortcomings and becoming for a moment, however brief, perfect. We all, at sometime, naively seek this perfection as well, so it is easy to understand the desperate need to be the actor, because this gives you the immunity also. The character of Craig Schwartz seeks Malkovich, because through Malkovich his idea of perfection can become a reality. After 8 months, he realizes that this all comes crumbling down around his feet. Despite Malkovich’s resemblance to a superhero, with complete power and no accountability, he has no real powers. No one does. We are all simply human, simply flawed. And the romantic ideal that we seek is beyond unattainable, it is simply not present.
Craig, although he is the protagonist, is not the person we should look at in this film. Instead we should look at Lottie and Maxine. Two people, confronted with a surreal experience are able to look past what each of them thinks they need and realize what brings happiness. They are a part of the lucky few who make it in this world.
Craig is a puppeteer whose life reflects little of his preferred occupation. As a puppeteer, he seeks to control, but in actuality his wife Lottie (Cameron Diaz, in her best performance yet) is the breadwinner as he constantly works on perfecting his art as “there’s no room for puppeteers in today’s wintry economic climate.” She does, however finally convince him to go job hunting, and he finds the most bizarre and life-changing job anyone has ever had. He applies at Lestercorp, a company that specializes in meeting your filing needs. The ceilings are a whole 5 ½ feet tall, the receptionist has a degree in speech impedimentology from Case Western and can’t understand anything that is said to her, and the orientation video presents an explanation for the low overhead, that is beyond fantastical. He also meets Maxine, a foxy young employee at another business on the 7 ½ floor. After a couple days of stumbling around asking her out, he finally convinces her to go get a drink with him. She abruptly leaves as soon as she finds out that he is a puppeteer. The next day is when he discovers the portal.
The portal is an even smaller door that is located behind some filing cabinets, as if the floor weren’t already claustrophobic enough. As soon as Craig goes through the door and down a dirt tunnel, he is rushed into the mind of John Malkovich (played by John Malkovich). One of the great ironies of this film occurs in the 15 minutes he spends in Malkovich’s mind. As celebrity, and one of the great actors of the 20th century, we would expect him to be doing something amazing. In fact, we can’t even tell that it is someone out of the ordinary until we see his face, and even then, he still behaves like a “normal guy.” His taxi driver recognizes him and has a brief conversation with him, but Malkovich just like you and me. He is simply eating toast and going to work. In fact, it is interesting to note that only when Craig learns how to possess John Malkovich does he begin to do thing out of the ordinary. Prior to that, he is reading Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, picking out hand towels, taking a shower, and rehearsing for his performance of Shakespeare’s Richard III. He is just like us non-celebrities, except for that very distinction. He is famous, and none of us are. We wish we were perhaps, but only he is. This very celebrity status, when combined with Craig’s puppetry allows Craig to do what he has always wanted, or at least the dream he thought was true. He also wants to sleep with Maxine and Malkovich is the easiest way to do that. Lottie discovers herself in Malkovich, and sees being him as the most natural way to become male.
This film also flips the actor/character relationship on its head. John Malkovich is an actor who possesses a sort of immunity with his characters. He is able to be exactly who he wants to be, eliminating his shortcomings and becoming for a moment, however brief, perfect. We all, at sometime, naively seek this perfection as well, so it is easy to understand the desperate need to be the actor, because this gives you the immunity also. The character of Craig Schwartz seeks Malkovich, because through Malkovich his idea of perfection can become a reality. After 8 months, he realizes that this all comes crumbling down around his feet. Despite Malkovich’s resemblance to a superhero, with complete power and no accountability, he has no real powers. No one does. We are all simply human, simply flawed. And the romantic ideal that we seek is beyond unattainable, it is simply not present.
Craig, although he is the protagonist, is not the person we should look at in this film. Instead we should look at Lottie and Maxine. Two people, confronted with a surreal experience are able to look past what each of them thinks they need and realize what brings happiness. They are a part of the lucky few who make it in this world.
1.17.2009
Gran Torino-the Death of Americanism.
There was a time, far beyond the memory of any living person, in which the doors of America were wide open. All who wished to be free of the chains of other nations were free to dock in our ports. Our culture was still in its formative years and we had little to represent us as a whole. But at some point this changed. Our doors slammed shut and we became afraid of everything foreign. Perhaps this is linked to the last century of international relations, soiled by massive wars and paranoia. I don’t know when it occurred. But we became very definitely American. In fact, anyone who does not subscribe to a very specific set of tenets is declared Un-American. This is difficult to comprehend, considering the creation of this country. It was meant to be a haven for all running from tyranny. In fact in New York’s harbor stands the Statue of Liberty where these word are inscribed: “Give me your tired, your poor/Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free/The wretched refuse of your teeming shore/ Send these, the homeless, tempest toss to me/I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” My point is that this very spirit of fraternity with the oppressed of the world was crushed by the last century. And Clint Eastwood, in his new film Gran Torino, is bringing that to our attention.
If there was ever a man more American than Walt Kowalski (Clint Eastwood’s character), I could not imagine him. He only drives Ford. He served his country in Korea. He makes it a part of his daily routine to drink PBR and sit on his front porch for several hours. He also uses more racial epithets than a Spike Lee film. He is the very incarnation of the modern American spirit. The film opens at his wife’s funeral, the last thing that kept him really going. All that he has left is his dog and his vintage mint condition 1972 Gran Torino. What infuriates him the most is that he is now the last "American" in his ghetto. They are encroaching from all sides to take the last vestige of dignity that he has. His son wants to put him in a nursing home and the neighbors hate him. It seems that the only reason he has left to live is to hold down the fort and protect it from these "gooks."
The ennui is broken when Thao, the boy next door is pressured into joining the local gang. His initiation is to steal the old man's prized Gran Torino. This is, ironically, the beginning of a beautiful friendship. After Walt catches him, Thao offers to make up for it by working for Walt for a week, during which time he takes a certain satisfaction out of making him do everything in the neighborhood. But the great part is that Walt starts to see Thao as a person. Despite the wave of slurs thrown at him like confetti, Thao is more than just a "damn zipperhead." Thao proceeds to get a job in construction and go legit. When the local gang notices this they attack him, making him feel like a kid again, and almost nullifying everything that Walt did to build his self esteem.
Walt realizes through his encounters with his neighbors, that there is no way out for them. They are stuck in a certain cycle that will either lead to their death or imprisonment. He begins to realize that the enemy is not a wave of immigrants, for these people have just as much a right to live here as we do.(These in particular helped the US in Vietnam, which may account for much of the sympathy Walt has for them). Rather there are deeper problems at the very heart of our society that we miss when we look at meaningless surface issues. The presence of this gang, for example, is rotting away the ghetto. Thao's sister, Sue, makes the insightful comment that the girls go to college and the boys go to jail. But the problem is not the presence of a gang. It is instead the fact that a gang can still do all sorts of evil, and get away with it. There is no one who has the nerve to break the stasis and do what is right, instead of what is easy. That is, until Walt Kowalski comes to town.
I havent yet spoken of the titular character, and it is a charcter. Though the Gran Torino only makes 10 appearances throughout the film, it remains the greatest catalyst and symbol in the film. It exists as Walt's manifestation of his raging Americanism. He sits around all day waxing it, making it beautiful, just to see how good it looks. But what good is a car if no one drives it. What good is a country that offers religious and personal freedom, if it is limited to the contemplation of an elite few? One of the great, albeit underplayed, scenes in the film is when Walt, without any suggestion, tells Thao to take the Gran Torino to his date that evening. It represents what I feel is at the very core of this film, namely, that freedom is meaningless if you can't share it with the disenfranchised.
If there was ever a man more American than Walt Kowalski (Clint Eastwood’s character), I could not imagine him. He only drives Ford. He served his country in Korea. He makes it a part of his daily routine to drink PBR and sit on his front porch for several hours. He also uses more racial epithets than a Spike Lee film. He is the very incarnation of the modern American spirit. The film opens at his wife’s funeral, the last thing that kept him really going. All that he has left is his dog and his vintage mint condition 1972 Gran Torino. What infuriates him the most is that he is now the last "American" in his ghetto. They are encroaching from all sides to take the last vestige of dignity that he has. His son wants to put him in a nursing home and the neighbors hate him. It seems that the only reason he has left to live is to hold down the fort and protect it from these "gooks."
The ennui is broken when Thao, the boy next door is pressured into joining the local gang. His initiation is to steal the old man's prized Gran Torino. This is, ironically, the beginning of a beautiful friendship. After Walt catches him, Thao offers to make up for it by working for Walt for a week, during which time he takes a certain satisfaction out of making him do everything in the neighborhood. But the great part is that Walt starts to see Thao as a person. Despite the wave of slurs thrown at him like confetti, Thao is more than just a "damn zipperhead." Thao proceeds to get a job in construction and go legit. When the local gang notices this they attack him, making him feel like a kid again, and almost nullifying everything that Walt did to build his self esteem.
Walt realizes through his encounters with his neighbors, that there is no way out for them. They are stuck in a certain cycle that will either lead to their death or imprisonment. He begins to realize that the enemy is not a wave of immigrants, for these people have just as much a right to live here as we do.(These in particular helped the US in Vietnam, which may account for much of the sympathy Walt has for them). Rather there are deeper problems at the very heart of our society that we miss when we look at meaningless surface issues. The presence of this gang, for example, is rotting away the ghetto. Thao's sister, Sue, makes the insightful comment that the girls go to college and the boys go to jail. But the problem is not the presence of a gang. It is instead the fact that a gang can still do all sorts of evil, and get away with it. There is no one who has the nerve to break the stasis and do what is right, instead of what is easy. That is, until Walt Kowalski comes to town.
I havent yet spoken of the titular character, and it is a charcter. Though the Gran Torino only makes 10 appearances throughout the film, it remains the greatest catalyst and symbol in the film. It exists as Walt's manifestation of his raging Americanism. He sits around all day waxing it, making it beautiful, just to see how good it looks. But what good is a car if no one drives it. What good is a country that offers religious and personal freedom, if it is limited to the contemplation of an elite few? One of the great, albeit underplayed, scenes in the film is when Walt, without any suggestion, tells Thao to take the Gran Torino to his date that evening. It represents what I feel is at the very core of this film, namely, that freedom is meaningless if you can't share it with the disenfranchised.
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