District 9 Review

District 9 is a multifaceted film. It manages to overcome the the recent blandness and one dimensionality that has characterized recent science fiction films, while at the same time retaining all the pure entertainment that those films can provide. District 9 has enough fantastic action scenes to satisfy even the most devoted of the Transformers 2 demographic, but also packs in social and political commentary, an engaging plot, gut wrenchingly emotional scenes, and a fascinating visual style. It doesn't do much that hasn't been seen before, but it combines the best elements of some of the best films in the genre to create a remarkably enjoyable, polished final product.

District 9 opens by ingeniously showing clips from what appears to be a documentary made after the main events of the movie have transpired. This documentary allows the director, Neill Blomkamp to introduce the setting and characters in depth, but retain audience interest. In a short period of time, the audience is treated to a fairly detailed history of the first contact with the aliens and how the relationship between the two species has changed over the twenty years that have elapsed, as well as plenty of character development of the charming and friendly, if somewhat incompetent seeming, Wikus Wan de Merwe (Sharlto Copely). It is so well edited that twenty minutes densely packed with information pass without ever seeming to drag on at all. The various people interviewed, differences in perspectives, interspersed news reports, and sheer interest factor of the information dispersed keeps it fresh, to the point that I was almost disappointed it didn't last longer. In those twenty minutes, the audience learns of an alien race unconventional to sci fi, one that arrived for no discernible purpose, and is not abundantly intelligent. In fact, most of the prawns (the derogatory term given to the aliens) seem rather stupid, as the leaders all died somehow (the documentary suggests disease), leaving only the workers behind. This gives the people of Johannesburg complete control over the prawns' fate. This fate slowly develops into one of slum life, with abundant segregation and oppression as tensions between the prawns and the humans rise, and the natural human tendency to be distrustful of the unknown takes over. The opening sequence manages to give us a good feel for the history of the interaction between humans and prawns, while simultaneously offering up amusing tidbits of information such as the prawns' obsession with cat food. The viewer also learns that the corporation that Wikus works for, MultiNational United, has become responsible for moving the prawns from their current slum (District 9) to a new location further away from the humans population of Johannesburg, and that Wikus is in charge of serving them eviction notices. It sounds like a fairly easy job, but the documentary interviews foreshadow something going terribly wrong.

As it turns out, Wickus comes upon a strange alien tube while raiding a house for weapons, which sprays a brown liquid at him. This is where the film begins to shift gears. Odd things begin to happen to Wikus. He vomits immediately. The an unknown black substance begins to seep from his nose. His fingernails start to fall off. As it turns out, the liquid has started the process of slowly turning him into a prawn. As his body changes, he becomes an extremely valuable piece of biotechnology. The very powerful prawn weaponry only responds to prawn DNA, and as it turns out, the newly mutating Wikus. He is especially valuable to his own company, which deals in weaponry, and wants to harvest his body for its genetic projects. He escapes, which sparks the manhunt, carried out by the vicious Col. Koobus Venter (David James) that persists through most of the remainder of the film.

This results in Wikus hiding in District 9, and his chance meeting with Christopher Johnson and his son, perhaps the only intelligent prawns in the film. Christopher Johnson knew immediately what was happening to Wikus, as he had carefully collected the offending liquid himself. As it turned out, the liquid was both the only way Christopher Johnson could return to his home planet, and the only way he could return Wikus to human form. Together, they launched an assault on the well defended MNU headquarters to try to retrieve it.

As hard as it may be to believe after that description, the plot was both well developed and had a gritty realism to it. A brief synopsis cannot properly capture the numerous emotionally powerful scenes, nor the subtlety with which these elements of the plot were actually introduced. Perhaps the best example of these subtleties is Wikus' racism. He is not overtly racist, and doesn't treat the prawns particularly poorly, in fact, he seems to even be somewhat fond of them. However, it becomes clear numerous times during the MNU eviction notices that Wikus subconsciously views the prawns as much lower life forms, most notably when he gleefully talks about the popping sound that the prawn fetuses make as they burn. This prejudice continues even as Wikus turns into a prawn himself, but is eventually addressed.

All in all, District 9 provides a deep, insightful, and realistic experience, all while competing in entertainment value with the mindless action sci fi movies that appear to be the modern preference. It is equal parts realistic action movie and intelligent apartheid influenced commentary against prejudice, with enough wit and presented in a unique visual style to create one of the most complete movie experiences of recent memory. All of the actors are top notch, with Copely delivering a truly amazing performance despite it being his first major lead role. And best of all the touching ending leaves open the possibility of a sequel, for which many viewers, myself included, will be clamoring.

Bordwell and Amelie

Cinema Paradiso seemed like it had already been sufficiently analyzed through the lens of Bordwell, and Sleepless in Seattle seemed too cut and dry, so I thought instead I would take a look at Amelie's status as a possible example of classical Hollywood narrative. Amelie is a much more interesting case for a number of reasons. For one, Amelie is a French film, not a Hollywood film. My initial instinct was that Amelie did not fit the qualifications for a classical Hollywood narrative. After all, this was the film that we as a class tried to determine whether it needed a narrative at all. However, under closer consideration, I believe that it does in fact meet all of Bordwell's criteria for a classical Hollywood narrative, if not perfectly. I'm not sure if I would necessarily classify it as classical Hollywood, but Amelie's narrative is clearly influenced by it.

The most obvious relation between Amelie and Bordwell's classical Hollywood narratives is Amelie's treatment of character. Bordwell sees characters in classical narratives as “psychologically defined individuals who struggle to solve a clear-cut problem or to attain specific goals” (18). The first aspect of that statement is more than abundant in Amelie. I cannot off the top of my head think of a movie that devoted more time to develop the psychology of a character than the treatment with Amelie. Amelie had a unique way of looking at the world, which involved taking great meaning from very small occurrences, and the film took us through her psychology at great length, including utilizing the events that took place in her childhood and affected her psychologically. The second aspect of the statement is a little less clear, but still easily found in Amelie. While at the beginning of the film, it didn't seem like Amelie had any major problem she needed to solve, by the end, it was clear that she did in fact have a problem, even if she wasn't aware of it initially. She was looking for her soul mate, someone who understood the world the way she did. On her way there, though, she have specific goals she tried to attain, namely to correct little wrongs that she saw in the world, such as the grocer's cruelty, two cafe regulars' loneliness, and the boredom of her father's life.

The ending of Amelie also correlates nicely with Bordwell's outline. Bordwell believed the common threads in classical Hollywood narratives were a readjustment back to the status quo after the “world knocked awry in the previous eighty minutes” (21), and the cliché happy ending, complete with the embrace. Again, the only real deviation from Bordwell's words that can be found in Amelie is that the romantic plot line didn't really exist for much of the movie. The world of Amelie was only really knocked awry when she saw the ads searching for the lost photo album. It was clearly resolved in the end though, as Amelie finally got together with her soul mate. And although they didn't do it in the classic Hollywood dramatic embrace, there was a very unique kissing introduction, followed by a shot of them in an embrace. Also, the final shot of the movie was of the two of them riding on a moped, clearly embracing.

What initially seemed most at odds with Bordwell's archetype in Amelie was the dual plot structure. Bordwell defined the dual plot structure as having two plot lines, a quest of some sort, and a romantic plot line. Although it took some time before it popped up, there was clearly a romantic plot line in Amelie. What I didn't initially see was her quest. Sure, she took great pains to accomplish small good acts, but those were just that, small good acts. None of them could be considered her quest. But as a whole, they did have an overarching theme that could. In fact the narrator even said (completely paraphrased because imdb didn't have the quote I was looking for) that if the man who's childhood box she found appreciated it, she would devote her life to helping out mankind. To Amelie, helping out mankind wouldn't mean trying to solve large issues such hunger or homelessness. Instead, she would focus on the little things that she derived so much meaning from, and use those to better their lives. This was her quest, the second part of the dual plot line.

And so, although Amelie doesn't perfectly correlate with Bordwell's image of a classical Hollywood narrative, there is definitely enough similarities there to say that it, at the very least, draws strongly from classical Hollywood films for its narrative.

Comments on the Cinema Paradiso Bordwell blogs

It seems like everyone's thoughts on whether or not Cinema Paradiso was a classical Hollywood film hinged on two key, related personal interpretations of the movie. With this in mind, I thought it more prudent to do one blog entry of my own addressing how I saw each of those possible interpretations affecting its status as a classical Hollywood film than to repost those same views in everyone's comments.

I believe (and so did most people who wrote blogs on the subject) that the key to whether or not Cinema Paradiso can fall under the archetype of a classical Hollywood film, or even a modification of the classical Hollywood film as some argued, lies in personal interpretation of the aspects of Bordwell's dual plot line, and the affect that has on one's interpretation of the ending. It appears fairly obvious that there are at least two plot lines.

The first plot line, the quest aspect of the plot line, is Toto's life. Everyone who wrote blog entries was fairly uniform on this point. Whether or not this can be seen as a classical Hollywood film comes down to whether one sees the second aspect of the dual plot line as the fatherly love he found with Alfredo, his search for true romantic love from women, or his life long love of the movies.

If one sees this aspect as an accumulating, platonic love of a father figure, the ending can be seen as the completion of their relationship. Alfredo had clearly helped guide him on the path of life several times, finally sending him away from the town of his birth and his memories of Elena to become tremendously successful as a movie director. Thus, the reel of censored kisses was Alfredo's last gift to him as a father figure. It was to remind Toto, through a medium that he clearly understands well, and would derive great meaning from (probably more than words could have), of what Alfredo believed to be the most important part of life, finding true love. Under this interpretation, the ending would bring this relationship to a close. Alfredo had died, but he imparted on Toto all the wisdom he had, and presumably would have bettered Toto's life one last time. Under this interpretation, Cinema Paradiso clearly fills all the requirements of a classical Hollywood film, if perhaps an unconventional one.

Many things change, however, if one views the second plot line as Toto's quest for true, romantic love. The only time Toto found love throughout the whole movie was when he managed to seduce Elena. Things in this relationship eventually go sour. After he leaves his family behind, Toto becomes a successful movie director, and is rewarded, among other things, with success with women. The viewer is led to believe that his recent years before the funeral consisted of one night stand after one night stand. Under this interpretation of the second plot line, the ending must be seen as one filled with regret. As he watches dozens of shots of passionate kisses, he begins to cry, thinking of the way his relationship with Elena ended up, how loveless his recent years have been, and the folly of his choice of sexual fulfillment over romantic fulfillment. Under this interpretation, the second plot line has not been resolved. The ending of the movie shows Toto filled with regret, and without a romantic love in his life. Therefore, it cannot be thought of as even a modification of the classical Hollywood film.

Lastly, one can view the second plot line as the progression of his love for the movies. It started as a young boy, when he sneaked into the projection room of the Paradiso, continued as he became the projectionist, and then finally he left home and became a successful director. This leads to one final interpretation of the ending. This view is a bittersweet view in which he takes note of his failure in finding true love, but is reminded exactly how much he loves the cinema, and finds himself finally at peace for making the choice that he made. This view of the ending brings closure to the second plot line, as he has succeeded in his field of choice, and come to terms with himself. Because of this closure, this view leads to accepting Cinema Paradiso as an example of classical cinema.

Personally, I am a believer in the last interpretation. I think that this interpretation allows for the movie to be seen as having more complexity than the other two, but also ties into them as well. Furthermore, I feel this interpretation more closely jives with the director's initial purpose for the film, as an obituary to cinema. He believed that film as he knew it was disappearing, but like Toto, he did not regret the choices he made which led him to it.