Elephant

I saw Elephant when it was first broadcast on BBC TV in 1989. There was a certain amount of hoo-ha about it, as the BBC had already put it back for a few months - films about the North of Ireland were, and are, touchy subjects. Watching it is riveting. The complete absence of story, dialogue and explanation serves to bring home the fact that, after all the talk and propaganda and fine words about freeing Ireland from the British oppressors or defending Ulster from the filthy Taigs, killing is killing - people are dying, frequently and horribly, and can there ever be a "reason" for it? I grew up in sheltered south Dublin and witnessed the Troubles at second-hand, filtered through the language of journalism; Elephant brought home to me, in the most visceral way, the relentless insanity of the situation. The film should be compulsory viewing in UK and Irish schools.

The major criticism of Elephant is that it's too simple - that the lack of context and explanation aren't enough. But the serial nature of it, muder after murder after murder, have an unforgettable power. It's not meant to be an attempt at the overall picture; it's a cry of horror against an appalling situation. I saw it once, ten years ago, and have never forgotten it.

It was directed by the late Alan Clarke, undoubtedly the best director of TV Britain has ever seen (maybe the best British director since Michael Powell). He had already given early breaks to Tim Roth (in Made in Britain) and Gary Oldman (in The Firm - not the Tom Cruise vehicle, but a brutal TV movie about soccer hooliganism). The title comes from the writer Bernard MacLaverty, who said that the Troubles were like having an elephant in your living room. That's what it was like to watch this film.

The height of minimalism. I can imagine watching this at the time and place it was meant to be watched and having the feeling of being punched in the face but not sure by whom.

Hard to watch, partly because the movie really strains the patience. But knowing the background, I sort of want to admire it. It's uncompromising, deliberately unlovely and has no interest in winning a popularity contest.

If one goes in with the patience required, it's a hypnotic and nauseatingly real that sends a message clear as day without the obnoxiousness of actually saying it: this isn't cool, people are dying. It's not an action movie anymore. A sort of anti-action movie. A lot of it is conceptual, sort of like a Pollack painting only a lot less self-indulgent.

Impossible to forget.

The recurring action of "Elephant" consists of the camera closely following someone walking down a small path and then shooting other person, then the camera stays there with the victim for a little while. This goes on and on for about 40 minutes, and that's the whole movie. Pounding our minds with this cold-blooded, disturbing and unexplainable scenario, barely containing any dialog and not giving any reasons behind those acts, director Alan Clarke and his last film deals with 'the troubles' in Northern Ireland but it also seems more than just that. One can view it with a wider perception. Why such title? It comes from Bernard MacLaverty's description of the troubles as "the elephant in our living room", a reference to people's denial of the underlying social problems of Northern Ireland. But since no one's talking and the images are so powerful and universal, we can picture this as happening outside of Ireland, since the violence problem hits everywhere and almost everyone.

But what Clarke wanted to cause on us with those images? To desensitize us or to show that such can be done at each single scene? The reflection is there for everyone to see, yet most of us we'll only consider "Elephant" as being repulsive, shocking, tasteless or pointless. By presenting things very randomly, he hits harder and with more brutality than any violent film ever made in that same decade. It's the shock of never knowing who's going to be the new victim or where the new attack is going to happen and most of all, why they are happening. We're there just as watchers, mere passers by looking at something unusual and frightening happening in front of us. It could have been a reason behind all the murders but it's invisible, hidden from us. It is said that the director re-enacted those from similar real events that took place in his country, terrorist attacks related with the troubles.

The penetrating, repetitive, poignant, insisting image doesn't comes from the act of violence but the everlasting effect of such. The dead bodies, lying on the ground. It is as if Clarke was trying to capture the soul getting out of the body or just waiting for a sign that they could have survived the brutal attacks they were victim of. No. It's a way of reminding us that a few seconds earlier someone was breathing, living, doing something and all that moment was gone. Why? But why? Because of something unimportant, small and even maybe a case of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time, crossing someone who needed to kill someone. Clarke wanted to show the banality of life, testing on us the effect all the murders would have on us.

With this silent criticism where only a gun being fired was the only voice who said a thing echoing for a long time, this is a haunting and unforgettable picture, and inspired another great "Elephant", the one directed by Gus Van Sant, who heavily worked on the same principle (criticism, shot compositions) but treating in the form of the Columbine incident. Both remarkable works. 10/10.

I saw this film when it first came out and remember it so clearly. The film shows the executions in such a matter-of-fact way. No background swell of music. A loud bang or two. Shocked silence broken only by footsteps walking purposefully away from the scene. I was two streets away from the Guildford bombs when they went off in 1974. I remember I finished my pint before going to see what had happened - I guess I was young, then, but there was a feeling of acceptance amid the shock. We all knew what had happened. It was on the television constantly. As my friends and I approached the Horse and Groom the shouting was just starting. And then the sirens, but those very few minutes of silence after the bangs were the loudest of my life. This film showed what it was like.

In this picture not a word is spoken. Probably set in Northern-Ireland it consists of several unrelated scenes in which we follow, with the familiar 'HandyCam' shots of Alan Clarke one or two characters for several minutes until they approach a person ... and shoot him. I think it's the atmosphere, the long buildup before the actual kill, the complete lack of both emotion and conversation that made this movie work for me. Ten years after seeing this film I still remember several scenes. It gave me the feeling that I was watching the way the killings really happen(ed) in Ireland. I wish they would repeat it someday on television.