You Got Balls Talking About Forgiveness: Warrior (2011)

The perfected male body is something that has emerged in discussion here on this blog, particularly when I was delving through the kung fu marathon last August.  Reading though a Linda Williams inspired lens, I argue that this sort of body on spectacle is somewhat homosocial and somewhat a mastery of technological embodiment.  Though I was unable to devote any amount of writing to the film when I encountered it a month or so back, Rush uses the body as a purely technological beast, one that become tied to a race car and is destroyed or advanced based on a relationship with said machinery.  Though a a year earlier in its release, Warrior is also expressly concerned with how a body could be displayed, altered and pushed forward into a state of ideal existence, one that tis capable of, in turn, competing with other forces, here also male bodies.  The idea of a sporting body then comes into play in works like these and with a runtime well over two hours, Warrior is a text that is expressly concerned with how spectator culture and violence have invariably altered even a seemingly hyper-violent sub-genre like the boxing film.  In many ways because it is a so much a body film, Warrior plays with genre in knowing ways, but as it is intended also to be a sports film at heart, it swelters and paces itself between traditional formalist structures as opposed to outwardly subverting the genre as was done in a work like David O. Russell's The Fighter.  Warrior manages to pull of the rare feat of creating a film about white male figures that are worthy of compassion and empathy, while somehow managing to denote the ways in which their struggles are still from a relatively privileged point of contact.  Acted almost impossibly good, Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton disappear into their roles, becoming two estranged brothers whose disdain and trauma are worn on their bodies, which still manage to exude as a point of idealism and desire.  It is in the disheveled and perfectly cast Nick Nolte where the narrative takes its means to show what is not desired.  In no small way director Gavin O'Connor provides viewers with a definitive stamp on the furthest explorations of the boxing film, while allowing for the kung fu influences that invariably come by way of it specifically dealing with mixed martial arts, to push what is a decidedly realist film into the realm of the impossible.  While I would never call a work like Warrior magical realist, it is not purely a work of realism for too many coincidental moments occur for such an interpretation, nor is it the magical nihilism I have previously placed upon something like Miranda July's The Future.  In as pure a sense as possible, Warrior is a work about bodies in constant motion and as any person who has take basic physics knows, said bodies become quite dynamic upon collision.

Warrior focuses on the emergence of a new mixed martial arts tournament within the sports entertainment field known as Sparta.  Set to occur in Atlantic City, this revelry in all that is violent is the implementation of a Wall Street magnate, who purports to want to find out the strongest man in the world.  While many assume the entire ordeal will fall to the hands of Russian powerhouse Koba (Kurt Angle) it does not stop a slew of competitors from putting their everything into the possibility of fighting.  In the wake of this announcement two brothers move about the space of Pennsylvania, the first being Tommy Conlon (Tom Hardy) an ex-Marine who lives a purposefully desultory life, only returning for the help of his recently sober father Paddy (Nick Nolte) in training and Brendan (Joel Edgerton) a former UFC fighter who never made it big.  Though Brendan had vowed to remove himself from competition at the request of his wife, his salary as a physics teacher and bouncer at a local strip club fail to pay his daughter's medical expenses leading him to begrudgingly return to fighting.  Thus both brothers enter the Sparta by various means, Tommy does so after showing noted skill when he makes quick work of the American champion fighter Pete "Mad Dog" Grimes (Erik Apple), whereas Brendan only initially working closely with his former trainer Frank Campana (Frank Grillo) becomes his next alternative when his prized fighter injures himself during training.  While the two remain out of contact prior to meeting in Atlantic City, they each climb up the ranks in the tournament much to the surprise of all in attendance.  During Tommy's particularly brutal victories, it is revealed that he was indeed a former Marine and had earned a Medal of Honor, before going AWOL upon the friendly fire death of a close friend.  Brendan continues to strive for victory through hard-earned submission wins, all the while making up for his being suspended from school when it is revealed that he had been fighting while salaried as a physics teacher.  Though each faces challenges during the bouts, for Brendan the challenges are very physical whereas Tommy faces issues of internalizing his own relationships with others, the two ultimately face off in the closing fight, wherein their particular fighting methodologies and philosophical outlooks on life collide, resting in an intense and moving victory for one brother, but a huge step of advancing in the brothers' strained relations.

While I am not particularly fond of the term "balls" which I pulled for the quote for this post, I do think it fitting for the idea of how the perfected body is at play in this film.  In the narrative of Warrior, much is hinged upon the ability of proving authenticity.  For both Tommy and Brendan they are capable of proving their worth as fighters because they can tangibly and effectively destroy their competitors, but for Tommy things like heroism are particularly complex, because while he can show his physical heroism by way of ripping a door off of a military vehicle to rescue a fellow soldier, it is much more challenging to conceptualize rejecting such a label when he refuses to continue work upon the death of a dear friend.  Similarly for Brendan, he can perform his duty as a father and as a teacher with great success, being given admiration in each role, however, when his actions outside of these spaces are made known, his perfected body is a thing to be questioned as it does not mesh with a space of a physics teacher who 'in theory' should have a perfected intellect which is less tangible.  Indeed, to affirm such a concept, the narrative has Brendan obtain nearly all of his victories by submission, suggesting an intellectual methodology that counters the physical prowess of others, say Tommy, but most notably attained in his defeat of Koba.  The two bodies work in constant (dis)harmony of one another, always at odds and collide in an incredible way in the closing bout.  Indeed, this final encounter deeply troubles the idea of the perfected body, by negating any singularity to such a concept.  Both Tommy and Brendan have methodologies that are capable of assuring victory, but when perfected on different avenues they will invariably cause one body to be destroyed.  Here though, the destruction is somehow empowering by way of a homosocial bond because both have the reference point of their father as a bad example of destruction to consider.  Wherein Paddy is a wreck of a man, Tommy and Brendan are exceptional, albeit, troubling in their willingness to destroy their bodies sacrificially.  It is not until both realize that far more can come by unifying their points of perfection than questioning their validity that the narrative shifts.  Again positing the possibility of multiple perfected bodies.  Though a victory is awarded to one of the brothers, it is suggested rather blatantly that it is in performance alone.

Key Scene:  The entire casino confrontation between Tommy and Paddy is stellar filmmaking existing within what is frankly an incredibly well-shot fighting movie.

This bluray is cheap, but I also believe it is watch instantly on Netflix.  Either option will suffice, although I would suggest the former as it is a surprisingly cinematic film.

There Cannot Be True Despair Without Hope: The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

So I am admittedly pretty late to this film as far as the blogging game is concerned, considering that pretty much ever non-classical oriented blog I follow touched upon this film within days of its release.  I am also open in not being entirely thrilled with Christopher Nolan as a director, although I am more than willing to offer him praise for his cinematic grandiosity and willingness to try for something big every time, more than a few of my friends and fellow cinephiles are remiss to even offer him that much praise.  The Dark Knight has become somewhat of a cult film, not that it was lacking a huge acclaim, but the death of Heath Ledger seems to have cemented it as a bit transcendent of traditional film criticisms and considerations, not very different from what James Dean's death has seemed to do for Rebel Without A Cause.  The Dark Knight Rises, thus had some rather incredible expectations to film, mostly revolving around a demand that the villian prove equatable or grander than that of Ledger's Joker, a task that was doomed from the start, considering that on paper and in performance The Joker at least relating to The Dark Knight truly is something rare in cinema, on the same level as your Tyler Durden's and your Monsieur Hulot's all be it in a different genre and via a different manifestation.  Detached from all I know about this trilogy and my own personal relationship with the films of Christopher Nolan I am not entirely opposed to what viewers are given in what is assumedly the final installment for this particular manifestation of "The Batman."  Sure it suffers from some plot cohesion throughout and certainly throws special effects and the tools of melodrama into those voids, but the exceptional acting on the part of all involved, not to mention Tom Hardy who gives a performance equal to that of Heath Ledger, even if the awful choice for Bane's voice manages to throw it off a bit.  The film, even if Nolan denies its validity, invariably focuses on a heavy bit of political rhetoric and goes a long way to show that just because a film engages with a large viewership does not necessarily mean that it needs to dumb its material down or offer traditional roles.

So where does this particular installation of The Dark Knight Trilogy pick up, well we are shown a Gotham City still reeling from the loss of their long deceased knight in shining armor political figure Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), while the city seems on the verge of complete cleanup from criminal activity, even if Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman) seems to demand a cautious eye be kept on the streets.  Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) has decided against retaining his role of Batman, primarily because the alias has become the scapegoat for Dent's death, instead; living a life as a recluse and fending off attempted robberies by a catlike female burglar named Selena (Anne Hathaway).  Meanwhile Bruce Wayne's shrinking wealth has lead to the freezing of funds towards an orphanages where Officer Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt)  a "hotheaded" policeman found shelter as a child, leading him to come into the world of Wayne Enterprises, which also happens to be the company at odds with tycoon Daggett (Ben Mendelshon) seems rearing to overtake, going so far as to request the help of superhuman escaped convict Bane (Tom Hardy) in his endeavors.  Bane, however, has his own set of plans which involve breaking Batman and his place of power in Gotham City, in the process attempting to return power to the hands of its people, in a marshall law form of political and societal rule. While the narrative deals with these emerging issues, as well as Officer Blake's attempts to find his own identity within his role as law enforcer, Bruce Wayne struggles with how best to reemerge as The Batman, especially since to do so assures his being apprehended by law enforcement.  Eventually, though the aid of Selena, who by now is clearly to be Catwoman, he is able to encounter Bane, who does indeed break Wayne's back and locks him at the bottom of a prison, from where he escaped by climbing out of after some time.  Upon emergence from the prison, Wayne returns to full-on Batman mode coming to the point of having Bane in his death grips only to discover that the true enemy was much closer at hand than even he realized.  Bane and his group have managed to set a large scale nuclear bomb to explode in the city and it is up to Batman to sacrifice himself to assure its detonation far from Gotham City, a task that leads to his assumed death, but if the closing moments of the film suggest anything, his legacy is far from over.

I could afford this portion of my post to discussing the political elements of The Dark Knight Rises, but this seems to be a considerably contentious ground to cross and the readings I would favor have been done to a heavy degree, although I was rather fond of this one, even though I am not entirely committed to the more Christian inclined elements of the argument.  Instead, however, I want to consider the philosophy of despair and notions of imprisonment that seem to help manifest the character of Bane, who is half-Nietzche and half-Camus in his rhetoric.  The notions of hope and despair, at least in the way Bane visualizes them seem straight out of the texts of Beyond Good and Evil, in so much that he seems to suggest for good to exist there must also be bad and vice versa, except Bane applies these ideas directly to finding a way to maneuver through darkness, something he believes Batman has taken for granted, yet he also shows Batman that it is his own ties to the light (i.e. goodness) that seem to make him so susceptible to weakness, clearly making specific reference to his deep loss earlier in life, as well as years earlier with the loss of his love interest.  Bane too is interesting because he seems to thrive off of despair, yet one cannot ignore that he lives within a exoskeleton that helps him ignore physical pain on a large scale, thus freeing his mind to deal with his own existential woes, ones transcendent of the physical.  As for the notion of climbing out of a seemingly inescapable prison one cannot help but consider Camus' Myth of Sisyphus in where a man is cursed to push a boulder up and down between two hills for eternity never achieving any progress.  The climb out of this prison proves similar not in that it results in Wayne's being returned to the bottom, but that he realizes that the prison is only a small scale of the climb that he must make within Gotham City or even his own personal life, something that is endless, until it is of course interrupted by "death."  The prison too does help to conceptualize Nietzsche in that it creates an oppressed group of lesser "bad" individuals who are separated from the good and suppressed not through the panoptic gaze of traditional prison setups but through their assumption that their is some good in the world, yet their badness makes it out of reach and only an impossible vision to obtain.  This assumption of obtaining goodness/freedom is enough to keep most prisoners dwelling at its bottom, although when an individual does break out it proves, as is the case with The Dark Knight Rises, to completely throw notions of darkness and light into complete chaos.  Mind you this film is nearly three hours long so my apologies for missing any major key points in my brief synopsis.

Key Scene:  As over-claimed as it may be, the football stadium scene is so cinematic and surprisingly detached for most moments from either Bane or Batman that it almost seems out of place in the film.  Yet, certain statements and events bring viewers back to its very real attachment to Gotham City.

This is a thoroughly enjoyable film and hopefully a praiseworthy completion to a sound trilogy.  Of course, we cannot be for sure where this particular vision of the franchise will go as the ending opened up possibilities for Robin becoming a fixture of Gotham City as seen by Nolan.  Rent it or buy it depending on your preference for blockbuster films.

We’ve Both Spent Our Lives Looking For The Weaknesses In One Another: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was one of the films that I knew I had missed out on by not seeing it in theaters.  Fortunately, for me, the advances in home entertainment have allowed for theater like experiences to exist outside of actual theaters, and this, combined with a Redbox coupon allowed me to view the spy thriller in a setting that replicated the big screen.  The grandiosity of such a film is only helped by viewing it in an encompassing manner, particularly considering that the film is both incredibly cinematic and narratively dense.  Viewing the film is no passive activity and between the brilliant screen adaptation of the seventies miniseries and a veritable onslaught of Academy Award deserving performances, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is everything one could desire in a thriller.  It is becoming rarer and rarer to find a thriller that is not easily predictable or repetitive and despite knowing the plot to this film prior to engaging with it, I still found myself on the edge of my sofa wondering what would happen next and at what point each character would meet their demise.  The release of this film, along with The King’s Speech a year earlier is quickly restoring my faith in the presence of British filmmaking, something that for so long seemed to  be carried solely by Danny Boyle.  Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a giant achievement in reminding moviegoers of how complex and magical a piece of cinema can be when executed correctly.

The plot for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a long, drawn out piece of narrative that is to be experience and would suffer from the slightest of spoilers.  However, I will attempt to give a cursory explanation as to the workings of the film in order to allow readers some semblance of what the workings of the film.  The narrative places those watching within the aftermath of a recent assassination of a British spy, one Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) who was sent by a higher up with the intent of ratting out a Russian spy within their own forces.  His assassination is unexpected and the result of an overreaction by persons within the Russian infiltrate.  Realizing the emerging danger within such actions, British intelligence brings their best spy George Smiley (Gary Oldman) out of retirement in hopes of finding the rat within their organization.  Armed only with his wits and the help of a younger agent, Smiley delves into an investigation that leads him to the realization that every individual within British Intelligence is suspect to odd behavior, including himself.  Smiley quickly becomes a point of contempt by members of the agency and is watched as closely as those he is investigating.  Travelling between Britain, Hungary and France Smiley unfolds a trail of deceit and paranoia that also forces him to reflect on his own past, one that is full of loss, despair and disillusionment.  Ultimately, the film ends with an explosive climax of realizations on both national and personal scales fading out with what will perhaps prove to be the best use of Julio Iglesias music ever.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is an incredibly nostalgic film.  It would seem odd to call a spy film about the divisive effects of The Cold War to be such, but the signs are all there.  The characters exist in a world very similar to that of the television series Mad Men, when unspoken rules of etiquette and social mores outweighed individuals desires to prove a point or rise in the world.  This notion is only double when placed within a British society that highly values manners and formalities.  The characters in the film clearly exist to provoke viewers into reflecting on a past when spies could get drunk at parties and bureaucracy could be overturned simply by knowing the right individuals.  Despite reflecting fondly on the past, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is also fairly critical of the era, making note of the incredibly misogynist existence of the agency, manifested quite clearly in the dismissal of the suspicions of one female spy within the film.  Furthermore, the other women within the film are either relegated to the corners of the scenes or completely non-existant, as is the case with Smiley’s wife Ann, who never makes an appearance, despite the film existing in multiple time periods.  Furthermore, when characters engage in behaviors seen as socially unacceptable behavior they do so behind close doors, because their being spies only exacerbates their possibility for exploitation.  To some extent, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy plays out like an old school James Bond film in that it seems cool on a surface level, yet is clearly problematic when one looks at each of the pieces individually.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is profound.  It is well worth owning and in this case bluray is the only way to go.