Thursday, June 26, 2008

The Fall

Dir. Tarsem, 2007

The Fall


I have such respect for Tarsem [Singh]. He is truly a great artist. The "Losing My Religion" music video still stands as one of the best I've ever seen, even seventeen years after its release. The Cell, while undeniably similar to The Silence of the Lambs and not particularly strong script-wise, was also breathtaking, and he blew my mind with his choice of color and composition. The Fall was supposed to be the culmination of his skill as a visual master with a good story, thereby making it a better movie. Making it a good movie. While it did not disappoint in the least in visuals, I was left disappointed, again, by the film as a whole package. I wish that he could have made it good.

The story is pretty interesting at first, and sets up an unusual intersection of Hollywood and agriculture in the early years of the city of Los Angeles. A five-year-old orange picker, Alexandria, falls out of a tree and is in the hospital with a broken arm, when she meets Roy, a semi-paralyzed stuntman who has lost his will to live. By some twist of fate or gust of wind, Alexandria runs into Roy's hospital room, and he begins to tell her stories to convince her to get painkillers for him. He makes up a tale of vengeance that follows five bandits each sworn to destroy the Emperor Odious for doing something terrible to them. Roy's imagination is not as exuberant as Alexandria's, but we see this story through her eyes, and we see the influence of her life, while the actually tale is mostly taken from Roy's experiences. Such a good setup, had such potential to be so good.

Roy's and Alexandria's psyches combined make an interesting sort of classic epic tale that is not unlike Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. It's overblown, but it's all right, because you know that it's just a story that some guy made up and some kid embellished. I could see the faults of the film already, in the beginning, so I turned off my brain so I wouldn't be able to predict the outcome of this story. Alexandria, being an immigrant from Romania, has surprising bleakness in her disposition at times, but is otherwise pretty happy-go-lucky, so when Roy's depression/suicidal tendencies/alcoholism get the better of him, the story takes a turn for the excessively tragic, and Alexandria's imagination fills in with some haunting imagery. It is interesting, but it doesn't really work. It is dangerous to make a movie with child actors because the line between convincing and cloying is so fine, and I generally have low tolerance for hammy child acting. Catinca Untaru, the actress, usually stays on the tolerable side of the spectrum, but lost it during the film's climax. It's not entirely her fault, because the material that she had to work with was poor.

Two of the three screenwriters, Nico Soultanakis and Tarsem himself, only have this film to their writing credit, and the third, Dan Gilroy, has a few more, but they are uninspiring. I wish it could be so easy as to blame everything on the script, but I wonder if this would have been so much better with a different one. There's not as much wrong with it as there's just not enough right with it. The actual plot is pretty interesting, but I can see how it would be a difficult story to finish. The end is strange, and I don't really like it. The characters could have more substance, and there is far too much energy spent on the formulation of the story-within-a-story, so the "real life" part of the film is not very fleshed out. But it was the "real life" part that I found most interesting. I wanted to know more about Roy and Alexandria, but it seems as though as an audience, we're supposed to fill in the blanks ourselves. Because Roy is so flat, I didn't feel much sympathy for him, even though I wish I could have. There was the material for greatness, but it was in the wrong hands.

I don't even have to tell you about how absolutely stunning it is. You can tell from the trailer that it is. I already knew it was going to be. In fact, it took me such a long time to start writing this review because I had saved so many screencaps that I couldn't choose which one to put as the photo to start off the article. In fact, I'll just include the rest here:

The Fall The Fall
The Fall The Fall
The Fall The Fall
The Fall The Fall
The Fall


I recommend clicking to enlarge.

I wish that all it would take for a film to be successful and enjoyable was something pretty to look at. (As an aside, if Lee Pace had had more screentime, there would have been quite enough pretty to look at right there.) I wish this had been a great movie. I wish I could say that I loved everything about it, and that it didn't disappoint. But I really was disappointed. I wish I, like Roger Ebert, could be okay with the fact that it is what it is, and not have any higher aspirations than that. But I want more from it. I want more from Tarsem who has completely mastered one aspect of filmmaking, but is quite deficient in others. If he could team up with someone, writer or director, and combine his talent with another, the combination would be out of this world. To just sort of fantasize for a moment, if he and Wong Kar-Wai put their heads together, I think it might almost be overwhelming. That's the kind of potential that is there!

All in all, however, for all my criticism, I was not bored. Some reviews called it dull, but I was more consumed either by how beautiful it was or how much I wished it were better to leave any time for boredom. I enjoyed it more than I didn't, which is more than I can say for a lot of things. There were moments that were genuinely brilliant, like the opening sequence which was a silent, slow-motion telling of Roy's suicide attempt. It was absolutely perfect. There was no dialogue, which surely helped, but nonetheless, excellent. And there were other such moments where I really was amazed at what this team could do. It almost seems unfair to tempt the audience with what could be and then not deliver. All I can do is look forward to Tarsem's next oeuvre and hope for the best.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Living Dolls: The Making of a Child Beauty Queen (DVD)

Dir. Shari Cookson, 2001

Living Dolls


I need to see this again. I watched this little documentary on YouTube, actually, which was pretty disappointing because more often than not, I would have to use my imagination to see the details of the unbelievable circus that is the world of child beauty pageants. Low resolution is not the way to view something that is as flamboyantly over-the-top as Living Dolls, but I found some screenshots that aided my imagination along. The documentary follows Swan Brooner, 5 years old, and her mother, Robin, as they go from pageant to pageant with the hopes of being the most beautiful and the most talented.... little kid?

What is shocking about Living Dolls is that you can see that the director, Shari Cookson, did not present the material in a way other than how it simply appears. There is no voice-over narration providing judgment or commentary; there are only a few title cards to inform the viewers where Swan and Robin are going next or to give us a bit of trivia about the ages or number of wins of a particular child. At times, whether Cookson asked Swan or Robin any questions or whether they are just saying what's on their mind is unclear. Nobody seems to be defending his or herself, and there is a real sense that all the people involved in the pageants are comfortable and used to the cameras, so there is no need for anyone to ham it up or shyly run away. Which, in itself, is somewhat disturbing.

My feelings about child acting, modeling, beauty pageants, etc, are probably among the majority, so I do not feel that I necessarily have to voice them here. This is not really about how anyone feels about it, because these parents will continue to put their children through it, regardless of how anyone on the outside feels about it, and there is not enough of a case for them to be prosecuted for endangering the health and safety of their children. We really can only watch. And that's what they want, that's what the kids are there for. They are meant to be looked at, for people to either remark on how beautiful they are, how talented, or how doll-like. Because, yikes:

Living Dolls


That is Swan. Swan really is just a regular kid who is preternaturally blessed with Barbie-doll perfect features. Her mother is not a beautiful woman (anymore?), but she has the background in military to push her daughter through the training, trials, tribulations, tears and terror of the pageants, teaching her dance routines, songs, how to present herself during the beauty round, and how to hop around in the sportswear round. Swan does not seem to be a particularly unhappy child, although she does her fair share of sulking. Really, she seems pretty happy for people to think she is beautiful and adorable, and to show off all of her talents and make her mother proud.

In her bedroom, she proudly shows off her trophies and medals from past wins, although her age shows when she admits that she cannot remember where she won them. For her, it is not the point. She probably doesn't have a notion of what the use of attractiveness is, she is simply good at one particular thing, and she has the support and encouragement (if you want to call it that) of her mother and her family. While it is possible that she will not or has not stayed that way, she seems to be a child with pretty normal interests, like zooming around in a pedal car and splashing around in the pool with a friend her age. Her main rival during the big final pageant, a seven-year-old girl named Leslie Butler, also seems pretty willing to play while they are both primped and groomed to best the other in the pageant. It does not appear to faze them at all that they are competing against each other.

Leslie Butler is considerably more concerning than Swan Brooner. I could not find any photos of her at 7 years old, since her name is more generic, but when she has makeup on, she looks very old. Swan still looks about 5 years old, just quite literally like a living doll. Leslie looks like a very short adult. She was bred from three weeks old to be a pageant star, and if the internet serves me correctly, she has continued to win into her teens. She must be about 17 or 18 now, and she looks exactly the same as in 1999. Just a little bit bigger. Swan has faded from the annals of Google, the only evidence of her existence being a blurry image from a local newspaper in Alaska.

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Leslie Butler now.


I know I keep going on about Swan and Robin and Leslie instead of talking about the film itself, but the content is quite distracting. As a film, I'm not entirely sure there's anything particularly extraordinary about it except that it merely presents the facts as they are: these are a bunch of people interested in this one particular thing, and outside of that one thing that most other people think is pretty crazy, they don't really do anything that weird. They're not shown being evangelically religious or eating extinct animals or running down roadkill for fun. Outside of child pageants, these seem like pretty regular people. So for me to focus on the contestants themselves rather than the film, is in essence focusing on the film. It is a story that has a defined story arc with a hook, failure and triumph of the will.

There's no grandiose score to highlight the impact of any particular moment, because there is no need. The people themselves are so fully invested that you can almost imagine how the orchestra may well up in their minds as they see their beloved children prancing around with makeup, big hair, and sparkly dresses. This is totally what they are into, what they love, what they want. Whether the children really want it because they genuinely want it or if they are seeking to please their parents is another matter, but it is a part of their lives. It is not any of our business, so our opinion doesn't matter. Swan, Leslie and Robin do what they do and they don't care.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

Dir. Steven Spielberg, 2008

Indiana Jones 4


If you've not yet seen this, everything you've heard is true. It is what it is: cheesy, silly, sometimes exciting, sometimes not, sometimes a good idea, sometimes unnecessary. It is all of those things. What puts you in the "love it" or "hate it" faction is whether or not you accept these obvious faults. If you can get past the dumbness and have fun, you'll like it. If the dumbness just overcomes you, it'll probably be excruciating. Lucky for me, I could deal with the dumb, and I had a pretty good time for most of the film. Anyway, I've seen worse.

I should start this off by saying that I am not the Indiana Jones franchise's biggest fan. I have, at best, a passive appreciation for the third movie, and at worst, an active dislike for the second. My feelings for the first are somewhere in between. I wouldn't buy the trilogy (or the tetralogy for that matter), but I would probably watch the movies if they were on in the room. Unless it was the second one, in which case, I'd probably say some wicked things about it and then leave. Regardless, The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was decent and held my attention, and I genuinely enjoyed the first half or so.

So Indy is back, and this time the bad guys are the Russians. It's somewhere in the 1950's, the Cold War is in full swing, and this time, the Russkies want a big magnetic mummy. Why? Oh, I don't know! Maybe the fact that it's stored in Area 51 should tip you off... but nevermind. The beginning is just a showcase for how "spry" Indy still is, and how the bad guys just keeping the hits coming. Through some incredibly improbable location and utilization of a lead-lined refrigerator, Indy survives an atom bomb explosion, and comes face to face with the most laughably George-Lucas-esque part of the whole film: a CG gopher. For a multi-millionaire, he sure doesn't have much artistry. But whatever.

Because it's the 1950's, and Dr. Jones was just goofing off with the Soviets in a secret government base, there is a threatening undercurrent of Red Scare, though it doesn't really make any impact on anything; it's more for historical contextualization. So Indy is fired from his teaching job, and right before leaving for some exotic location, a young upstart on his motorbike (Shia LaBeouf) comes up and rescues him from a train full of KGB agents. What follows is one of the better action sequences in the film, and therefore, the least credible. No way Indy is going to slide on his hip for half the length of a library and not fracture something. He's no spring chicken. But it's great!

That's what the whole series is about, really. There are chains of completely improbable events that by some defiance of gravity and the laws of physics, Indy manages to escape. I imagine that one's general feelings about the whole franchise plays a part in how one feels about this particular contribution. It has the exact same story line as Raiders of the Lost Ark, but this particular brand of supernatural, super-human unattainable glory that leads to the eventual downfall of the bad guys is different. I won't ruin it for the one person who hasn't heard what the "big secret" is, but it's not really that cool. In fact, it's extremely cheesy. It didn't have to be as cheesy as it was, but somewhere along the line, someone made the decision to skimp on the screenwriting and storyboarding budget, and went in a fairly ridiculous direction. I'm sure some people loved it. I rolled my eyes.

All this being said, it was better than the first two movies. Karen Allen, who returns to reprise the exact same role as in the first movie, is just as annoying as in the first one, but she's in it less. Shia LaBeouf (I always have to look up the spelling) has become a pretty interesting, able and funny action hero. Cate Blanchett is beautiful, but sadly, sadly underused. Harrison Ford totally phoned it in, but that worked for his role. With constant jokes about how it's "not as easy as it used to be," he seems as tired as he probably is, but then, he would be that tired if he had to run around various exotic locations all the time trying to stop the forces of evil from manhandling mythological artifacts. There are a couple of other cameos which are kind of funny in a "hey, that guy!" kind of way.

It's also a pretty good idea. One thing that I've liked about the series is that they take pretty well-known myths, like the Ark of the Covenant and the Holy Grail, and delve into it in a sort of Da Vinci Code kind of way, but way before that book came out and made the idea of supernatural archaeology smug and self-satisfied. A good idea goes a long way, but sometimes it is poorly handled. Just like in The Butterfly Effect the good idea gets points, but if the execution is flawed, you can't help but feel some disappointment. The idea for Crystal Skull was interesting enough to get me hooked, and the early pursuits in the first half of the film were exciting, but they didn't deliver at the end. It's too bad, really. I don't know who to blame more: George Lucas for being a terrible artist and ham-handed producer, or Steven Spielberg, whom I do not like much, and who has a nauseating penchant for the sentimental. Their collaboration has worked in the past, but it's not a sure thing to me.

I sound like I'm more on the fence than I feel. I mostly liked this! I am one of the people who could overlook the improbabilities and exaggerations and clunky storytelling, and get into it and enjoy it for what it is. The fact remains, however, that there are a lot of problems, though they are not unique to this particular film. All of the Indiana Jones films have these problems; it's a silly series. Occasionally exciting, and mostly entertaining, but pretty ridiculous. I've nitpicked the faults that the series has, because it is not perfect. But it's not horrible, and it doesn't ruin everything. An eyeroll is a pretty harsh critique, but it's completely deserved. I'd say it was consistent with the series, and serves as a legitimate continuation thereof. For better or for worse.

Friday, June 13, 2008

The Visitor

Dir. Tom McCarthy, 2007

2008-06-07_0206


If you have not seen The Station Agent, drop everything and do it now. Tom McCarthy, actor and director extraordinaire, is one of the up and coming directors that I think is on his way to doing something mindblowingly fantastic. You're going to want to be in the know when that happens. Why? I'm not sure! But I am nothing but pleased to know this man's work because I am enjoying every minute of it. The Station Agent, his first film, was beautiful in its simplicity, humanity, and humor, and it introduced me to the wonderful Bobby Canavale. It is altogether a sparkling gem of a film that would be incredibly difficult to follow up. Yet, somehow, The Visitor managed to follow it with a similar poignant success. It shows that Tom McCarthy is more that just a one-trick pony or a lucky guy with a good idea, but someone with a true eye for pathos and humanity.

The film follows a widowed university professor, Walter Vale, who leads a repetitive and passionless life, and who is persuaded by a coworker to go to New York City for a convention. In doing so, he returns to his apartment in the city, which he has not visited in about 10 years. When he gets there, he finds that the apartment has been temporarily inhabited by a Syrian and Senegalese couple. Rather than let them fend for themselves in the big city, he invites them to continue to stay with him. The man, Tarek, warms to Walter more quickly, and teaches him to play the drums, while it takes the woman, Zainab, longer to see Walter as a friend. They are all brought closer together when an unfortunate mishap in the subway leads to Tarek's arrest and consequent detainment, for he is in the country illegally. Zainab cannot visit him, or she too will be detained, and soon Tarek's mother, Mouna, comes from Michigan to find him. Walter, all the while, has clearly been taken by this lively and loving group of people, and does all that he can to save Tarek from deportment.

I don't know anything about Tom McCarthy's personal life, but it is intriguing that he would choose subjects that seem so outside of his apparent "world," but then I realize that while they may seem different, they are, in fact, just like anyone else. In The Station Agent, the main character is a dwarf whose best friend and business partner suddenly dies, leaving him a small piece of property in a town in New Jersey, where he must adjust to his curious neighbors. The Visitor is about an insider who is the outsider among outsiders, involving a clash between religions, cultures, and governments. His "fish out of water" scenarios seem so unique that you don't even realize that it follows a fairly common story line. His characters are always very simple, and yet complex, facing issues that both everyone and no-one faces.

Walter Vale, who is played brilliantly and sweetly by Richard Jenkins, comes off as cold and pathetic at first. His performance hit really close to home with me; he perfectly portrayed how a complete lack of inspiration and creativity in your life can make you feel empty and unfriendly. His gradual interest in the drums was quite realistic, and once it became a pivotal part of his life, I felt that there was so much more concealed within him than just expression of his latent creativity. I had only known Richard Jenkins from "Six Feet Under," and his role was not particularly interesting to me, so I was pleased to find that he is actually quite an excellent actor. What made his performance so appealing was how heartbreakingly sweet it was, yet it didn't make me cry by employing cheap heartstring-tugging techniques. You can see that he is sad that his friend has been detained, but rather than break down and sob in a bathroom, or some other cinematic cliche, he quietly and stoically acts as messenger between Tarek, Zainab and Mouna, selflessly using to everyone's advantage his unique freedom to go between the outside world and the detainment center without fear of legal repercussions.

The fact that the film is about a Visitor rather than Visitors is a brilliant move on McCarthy's part. Walter is clearly the outsider, even though, legally, he is the free one, the employed one, the citizen. Throughout the entire film, he appears uncomfortable in his own skin, even among his peers. He eventually learns to loosen up a bit and play his drum in public, but even though he is clearly moved by the music, he retains some of the awkwardness and unhip-ness that he's carried throughout. Again, this resonates so strongly with me, because even when I feel "comfortable," I am still so self-conscious and aware of my surroundings, and it is interesting to see how someone can show this without outright saying it.

So the acting is good, the script is good, the plot is good, and it certainly doesn't hurt that nearly everyone in this film is gorgeous. Visually, it is colorful, intimate, slow and loving, a true sonnet for the Northeast. The actors who play the roles of Zainab, Tarek and Mouna are not conventional beauties, but the kind of people that you could imagine meeting through another friend, and growing familiar with their faces. Mouna even reminds me of my own mother. Every detail of this film seems precision engineered, down to the crinkles in her face. I really loved this, and will wait with bated breath for Tom McCarthy to grace the world with his third film.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

The Butterfly Effect (DVD)

Dirs. Eric Bress & J. Mackye Gruber, 2004

2008-06-07_0202


When this first came out, I sneered at it. I assumed it would be terrible, that it would be about some dumb guy who lived alternate realities that were tied together by a Satanic roommate with lots of eye makeup and big, spiky hair. I did not give it more than one thought, and proceeded to forget which movie it was whenever it was mentioned, only to finally identify it as "that Ashton Kutcher movie." It was not a film I took seriously, and I probably would never have seen it were it not for the recommendation of someone whose opinion I value. So I thought I'd check it out. At the very least, I might be able to laugh at it.

What made me consider watching it, besides this friend merely saying it was good, was her saying that it was a really good idea. I can appreciate a good idea, even if it is not perfectly executed. And it is a good idea. Ashton Kutcher plays a guy, Evan, whose childhood was so profoundly traumatic that it left him with blackouts instead of memories, and ruined the lives of his three childhood friends who experienced all or most of these traumatic events with him. His mother moves him out of the town after the neighborhood bully, Tommy, burns Evan's dog alive, knocks out his own sister, Kayleigh, and psychologically wounds Evan's other friend, Lenny. Evan promises to come back for Kayleigh, but only remembers her 6 years later, in college. He finds her working as a waitress in a truck stop, where she is harassed and molested daily, and when he asks her about what she remembers from their childhood, she becomes so upset that she runs off and kills herself. All this happens within the first 12 minutes or so.

The film becomes a whirlwind of time travel and rewriting history: Evan finds out that by rereading his old journals, he is taken back in time to when the traumatic events of his childhood took place, and he is able to retain the memories and knowledge of his past lives in order to change his actions and decisions, and therefore change the future. However, each time he changes something to improve one of his friends' lives, someone else's becomes equally ruined, including his own. Ever the optimist, he continues to try new things, until a major sacrifice has to be made: his own happiness. By going back in time, he learns more about people than he was able to know from the first run of his life, and therefore make the decision to change everyone's priorities.

What works in this is also exactly what doesn't work. It's pure fantasy, and therefore can't really be taken too seriously, but if it could happen, what does happen may or may not be the most likely outcome. Many of the changes in time and history that occur appear too contained, too pat, but then again, if they really did spiral out of control into the proverbial hurricane caused by those proverbial butterfly wing beats, the film would be far too convoluted, and therefore completely impossible to follow and maybe not entirely pleasant to watch. Or maybe not! Maybe I'm only assuming that my perception of the altered future must be closer to real, when I can't possibly know that. The point is, there were stylistic choices made, and this is fundamentally a piece of fiction, pretty well, but not excruciatingly well researched. A good effort, and a good piece of imagination committed to film.

However, because the filmmakers are creating an alternate universe, they are creating one with a whole set of rules. Those rules dictate that when Evan reads his own memories, he's transported to that time, where he apparently has the option to make some minor change, like injure himself, and then will himself to snap immediately right back into that same reality he jumped out of, or make a really big change and end up back into that chronological place in an alternate reality. It's totally arbitrary, and who's to say that once he goes back in time, so long as he's there, he shouldn't relive everything else all over again, all those 10, 8, 6 years it takes to get back to "now?" This is only one such rule, but in order to remain consistent, regardless of how arbitrary the rules may be, they must be adhered to. It doesn't have to make sense in my universe, but it has to in theirs.

Laws of the universe aside, this is also a pretty sweet movie. Not sweet like "sweet, dude, where's my car," but rather, amusing and charming. This is probably aided by the presence of Amy Smart, who plays Kayleigh, and is just the cutest thing. Her acting skills are pretty average, but she adapts her look to compensate for what may not come naturally as an actress. Ashton Kutcher does an acceptable job of not playing Kelso or Ashton Kutcher. I allow myself to be impressed by the surprising acting prowess of someone otherwise perceived as being one-dimensional. I was as much impressed by Seann William Scott in Southland Tales (possibly the most satisfying thing to come out of that train wreck), and I was pleased to see that AK did not resort to his overused mannerisms or delivery. He and Amy Smart make a pretty pleasant couple, and I found myself getting occasionally caught up in their romance and hoping for the best.

I'm sure that someone who was really in the mood could easily have a field day pointing out all the inconsistencies and unlikely events and violations of the laws of physics, but I do not have the will nor the education to do so. I like for my intellect to be challenged a little more than this, but it was a stalwart effort. The script is thin at times, the connections tenuous, and the drama a bit heavy-handed, but the overall effect was pretty entertaining. I'm in far too positive a mood right now to really bash the thing for what it might possibly deserve. I was not bored, nor did I roll my eyes, and sometimes that is a major credit.

Traffic (DVD)

Dir. Steven Soderbergh, 2000

2008-06-07_0143


I've seen this movie before. Back in 2000, when I first saw it, I was amazed, and it stayed with me for a long time. I consider its Oscar loss to Gladiator one of the worst travesties of film history, but that's another story. I have long wanted to see it again, and have had access to it, but put it off because it's so intense that I never felt in the mood. Finally, all the conditions were right, and I indulged in this piece of cinematic mastery. The last time I saw this, I was 17 years old. I don't really remember in detail what I thought of it, only that it made a great impression upon me. It is now eight years later, and I feel that seeing this with a "whole new" set of eyes and so many years of maturity and experience have changed the way I look at it somewhat.

Traffic follows three story lines that interweave through the relations between the characters and the geographic regions that they inhabit and visit. The first is the Tijuana plot, involving two cops (one of whom is Benicio del Toro, who is excellent) who are coerced by General Salazar to help him bring down one of the drug cartels in order to further his interests as an investor in a rival cartel. The second follows Bob Wakefield (Michael Douglas) who is newly commissioned as leader of the War Against Drugs, but his daughter (Erika Christensen) is an ever-escalating drug addict. The third follows the trail against a known drug lord in San Diego, apprehended through an informant (Miguel Ferrer) by two American cops (Don Cheadle and Luis Guzman), and whose pregnant wife (Catherine Zeta-Jones) takes matters into her own hands to eliminate the informant who will be the star witness in the prosecution trial.

I think what makes this so appealing is the way that everything is presented in such a way that the lines between villain and hero are either blurred or nonexistent; morality is relative and the bigger picture can be too big for any one person's scope. There are "good" guys, as in decent guys, who are clearly doing things with their hearts in the right place, but some of their actions may affect other people negatively. I am very interested lately in seeing things outside of an obvious good vs. evil dichotomy, since I have a maddening tendency to think along those terms, and I am constantly battling my own brain to stop doing this. But everyone's best efforts seem to be kept in check by everyone else's, and you can't really fault anyone completely, or absolve anyone completely for any of the actions they undertake.

This relativity seems to also be reflected in the color palette: In the beginning of the film, the cops in Tijuana are filmed in grainy yellow. Bob Wakefield in Ohio and Washington DC is filmed with a cold blue filter. The characters in the San Diego setting appear mostly neutral. However, as the film progresses and the characters move around, Benicio del Toro in San Diego is shown in a neutral hue. Bob Wakefield turns grainy yellow when he visits Mexico. The colors are not assigned to the characters so much as they are prescribed to the geographic locations, as though these are all dimensions of reality, each one with its own culture and sense of justice.

Is it wrong to protect your own and the future of your own children? The knee-jerk answer is yes. Even if it means killing someone who could justifiably incriminate your husband for drug trafficking? It's funny, because this is obviously about illegal, recreational drugs, which are pretty difficult to defend in any setting. I mean, you can, but it's definitely not a popular position. However, there are plenty of legal-yet-sketchy, or not-legal-yet-maybe-should-be enterprises where the same scenario would be somewhat more controversial. If I were to devise a totally improbable situation, like someone serving as star witness against someone accused of prostitution, and this prostitute has a family who suffers greatly from his/her incarceration, it is kind of a different story. There are many compelling arguments in favor of legalized and controlled prostitution, and if you believed with all your heart and soul that the life of one person was worth sacrificing for the greater good of your family and young children, it might be an attractive idea to have that star witness snuffed out.

However, this film does not address any grayer-area issues like prostitution. It DOES deal with illegal drug trafficking. Many people believe without question that this is wrong and bad. Other people believe without question that it is not a matter in which the government needs to have a hand, and that it is the perpetual enforcement of laws outlawing it which make it more appealing, therefore resulting in ironic self-fulfilling prophecy. Topher Grace, who plays Erika Christensen's boyfriend, has an interesting speech wherein he lashes out at Bob Wakefield for sneering at the state of downtown (Cleveland?), saying that selling drugs is so lucrative here because white people already know to come to the black ghetto looking for them. Were the roles switched, and black people started coming to white neighborhoods asking how to score some drugs, white people would quickly turn to making the easiest, most obvious profit. This is a pretty bold statement for a film that had such a wide release. But then again, Hollywood is often marginalized as crazy.

I love depressing films as much as anyone. Probably more than just anyone. When a film ends on such a helpless note that you feel completely consumed by the futility of your life and all of your actions, I love that. It gets a good cry out of me, I think really hard about my role in society, rededicate myself to my ambitions, and then, post-catharsis, continue on my merry way. As I get older, though, I find myself enjoying slightly less tragic turnouts. Traffic is totally satisfying for its ability to strum that chord of tragedy, but still flirting with the possibility that there are still good people in the world, or at least well-meaning people whose net output is positive. At the risk of giving everything away, which I probably mostly have anyway, most characters manage to succeed in some way, making things better for themselves and those that they care about. Sometimes, it injures more than other times, but it successfully paints a detailed picture of the complexities of human nature and the code of ethics and morals that govern both nations and individuals.