Total Recall as Crisis

Total Recall represents an interesting paranoia: a fear of an existential crisis due to the rapid advancement of technology. The film is ultimately about the existential implications raised if humanity and machine cannot tell the difference between reality and fiction, machine and man. This possibility would completely destroy people’s faith in the truth of their own lives. A person only believes they are a person because they are told so. Humans define lives by memories. If humans or robots could be implanted with memories, how could anything know what they truly were? Existential crisis would be inevitable, and humanity would come crashing down around us. Philosophically, humanity is already shaky. If one introduced a variable such as the unreliability of memories, the advent of complete nihilism may be inevitable.

In Total Recall, the scene of Quaid waking up in Rekall, thinking that the implantation has gone wrong and that Rekall has blown his cover sets up the rest of the films philosophical vagueness. Quaid then denies that he is Quaid, but a secret agent called Hauser. The subtle set changes and lighting changes can be taken to mean that this scene is all part of the memory implant. However, the film continues to use the “mindfuck” technique to increasingly confuse reality with fiction.

If technology ever did reach such a point where we could no longer determine if memories were truly real, individuals would have no basis for its existence, and spiritual, psychological, and philosophical breakdown would be inevitable. What makes it so frightening is it could be happening currently, and people could be implanted with memories so that they would never know that they had been implanted with memories. Further, we could all be replicants. And as technology increases functionality and daily use, we increasingly are.

Ultimately, technology is a tool, capable of many different things. It can benefit mankind, leading us into a new frontier of evolution. If humanity allows its paranoia to overshadow the benefits, it will be cast into a neo-dark age, where technology becomes something to fear, rather than something to use and to benefit from. Although all the films leave humanity with a warning, they ultimately must be disregarded, for without technology and tools, humanity is nothing more than tall, hairless apes waiting for the next day to dawn.

Blade Runner as Crisis

Blade Runner represents an interesting form paranoia: a fear of an existential crisis due to the rapid advancement of technology. ultimately about the existential implications raised if humanity and machine cannot tell the difference between reality and fiction, machine and man. This possibility would completely destroy people’s faith in the truth of their own lives. A person only believes they are a person because they are told so. Humans define lives by memories. If humans or robots could be implanted with memories, how could anything know what they truly were? Existential crisis would be inevitable, and humanity would come crashing down around us. Philosophically, humanity is already shaky. If one introduced a variable such as the unreliability of memories, the advent of complete nihilism may be inevitable.

In Blade Runner, the most important example of this existential uncertainty comes when we learn that Rachel believes she is human. The dramatic irony increases the audience’s uncertainty as to who is a replicant. The constant shot-countershot between faces and eyes and heavy use of chiaroscuro lighting serves to heighten the suspense and mystery.

If technology ever did reach such a point where we could no longer determine if memories were truly real, individuals would have no basis for its existence, and spiritual, psychological, and philosophical breakdown would be inevitable. What makes it so frightening is it could be happening currently, and people could be implanted with memories so that they would never know that they had been implanted with memories. Further, we could all be replicants. And as technology increases functionality and daily use, we increasingly are. Like Deckard, humanity could truly be the very thing it believes it controls

Tron as Parable

I essentially see Tron as a parable for modern society. Through all the stilted acting, Tron is at essence a very simple story of good versus evil, and the potentiality for all of us to be either good or evil. The Master Control Program and Dillinger are obviously the "evil" parts of society, while Alan/Tron is representative in the good. Flynn is the most human of the characters, in that he is neither good nor evil, he merely is. Ultimately, he is the true hero.
Tron, then, is meant to show that technology has great possibility--for both good and evil. An important scene for analysis is the shot of Flynn first being imprisoned by the Master Control Program. The use of color, though fairly obvious (red is "evil" and blue is "good") is quite effective. The shots are oddly framed, increasing the sense of disconnection and unreality. Analytically, the scene is meant to show just how evil the MCP has become, to the point of imprisoning all good programs in the vicinity. Parallels between this and various historical genocides cannot be ignored, making the scene all the more powerful.
The film, then, is a warning of what technology truly is--a tool. A tool has no nature and is neither good nor evil. Used properly it is a productive instrument accomplishing "good". However, wielded in the wrong hands, it can wreak devastation. This view is truly remarkable considering the movie was made in 1982, at a time when computers were mostly thought of in terms of games (as in Tron). It is much easier to see the disaster technology can wreak in our modern society of information theft, hackers, and technological terrorism.

Claustrophobia in THX/Reflections in Society

One of George Lucas' greatest achievements in THX 1138 is his use of technique, both auditory and visual, to create an omnipresent and overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. Further, he turns the claustrophobia into agoraphobia when shots occur in wide-open white spaces, demonstrating Lucas' mastery of frame composition. Lucas uses several different methods in order to emphasize the claustrophobia: frame composition, repetition, and editing.
Lucas specifically frames his shots in, especially in hallways and the like, to emphasize the box-like shape and confinement of the space. Further, the hallways are all a glowing white, full of twists and bends giving the illusion of a faceless, endless maze. The characters and residents of the world scuttle around like white mice. Lucas also shoots the hallways in such a way that they seem smaller then they are. Lucas uses a telephoto lens to emphasize the character in the frame, making it seem as though the character is surrounded by a literal box.
To emphasize psychological claustrophobia, Lucas rarely uses mirrors. The only mirror in the movie is the pill-dispensing mirror which spies on characters. Thus, the entire identity of the characters is erased. When they view themselves in the mirror, others are watching as well. In that manner, the characters probably never identify a mirror as something used to examine oneself. All identity is completely erased.
This physical and mental claustrophobia is present within the confines of the entire society--that is, their very behavior is a mirror the confinement that engulfs them. The need to constantly be observing one another, the need for regularity and conformity are all reflections of the inherent insecurity in the inbred confinement.
Lucas also uses repetition and editing to emphasize the claustrophobic feeling in the world of THX. The repeated shots of LUH opening and closing the mirror, the number of similar shots of THX working at the robot factory all represent a society confined by rules and regulations. Lucas uses jump-cuts and interspersed cuts of security cameras to further emphasize the confinement of the society. LUH and THX ultimately react as many claustrophobic do; a desperate act--in this case, sex.
Is THX 1138 a premonition of things to come? I think not. However, Lucas definitely presents an interesting spin-off of Huxley's Brave New World that raises many interesting questions about societal constraints and its effects.

A Late-Night Discussion of Kubrick

Last night (at a rather jolly party I was attending), I got into a rather heated discussion about cinema as art versus cinema as entertainment. The subject of Steven Spielberg came up. The opposition claimed that Spielberg pioneered shooting inanimate objects in a way that gave them life. I claimed this was utter poppycock. Thankfully, having just watched 2001: A Space Odyssey, I was able to argue that, unfortunately, my opponent was completely wrong. HAL-9000 is completely inanimate. As this film was shot long before any of Spielberg's movies, this rather stymied the swine.
However, it did lead me to contemplate HAL as a character. How is it that we, as an audience, identify with HAL, more a concept that in inanimate object. All we see of HAL is the glowing eye and the inside of his mainframe. There is nothing to identify with beyond his voice. However, the scene where Dave kills HAL is one of the most heart-wrenching scenes in the film. Further, HAL is the most memorable part of the entire movie. Kubrick is such a master that he can manipulate us into identifying and sympathizing with a malfunctioning computer.
In a way, this genuinely reflects the way people actually grow attached to technological devices. We pour all our social contacts into our cell phones, all our musical taste into iPods, and everything else into computers. When we lose one of the objects, it feels almost like the loss of a friend...or the loss of part of yourself. Technology becomes, in essence, an extension of ourselves.

...

The movie itself is an odd experience. The first time I watched 2001, I disliked it intensely. I thought it was a masturbatory power trip on Kubrick's part. The second time I saw, my opinion on the film didn't really change. However, by that time, I had taken several cinema classes. This is all a round-about way of discussing cinema-as-art vs. cinema-as-entertainment. As entertainment, I think 2001: A Space Odyssey is completely awful. Taken from a the point of view of a story, the film is boring. Honestly boring. However, from the cinema-as-art perspective, 2001 is truly a beautiful film. It is extremely well shot, the music is perfect...I don't really have a conclusion, so I conclude with a quote:

“The unconscious is the ocean of the unsayable, of what has been expelled from the land of language, removed as a result of ancient prohibitions”
--Italo Calvino

Explanation of The Name

"What Ho, Twing!" is the title Bingo Little gives the his Christmas play in "Jeeves and the Metropolitan Touch".

P.G. Wodehouse is one of my all time favorite authors, and I figured his spirit would be pleased to be honored in a blog.