Avatar is being called many things, yet what's being overlooked is how fascinatingly it fits into Cameron's body of work as well as being (for him) something completely new. I don't mean only the technological advances, which are truly eye-popping. (Avatar is my first ever "IMAX experience," and first time I've worn the special glasses in twenty-five years; suffice to say things have improved slightly since Jaws 3-D.) Cameron still knows how to craft a story that engages an audience -- one that's sneakily subversive at that. Aliens was a gung-ho Reagan-Era war movie that undercut its own machismo by having all the male characters get their asses kicked, to where Ripley and the alien mother were left standing. Avatar features more chest-thumping love of weaponry and stuff that blows up real good; yet its main character, the paraplegic Marine Jake Sully (Sam Worthington, who provides a low-key, emotionally direct center), gradually comes to join forces with the Na'vi tribe he's supposed to be working against. If audiences are noticing the implications of the thinly-veiled Iraq War metaphors -- with American soldiers getting knocked off by the dozens at the climax -- they don't seem to mind.
Conversely, Richard Kelly's Southland Tales, which came out in 2006 about a year after a hostile reception at Cannes, wears its politics on its sleeve. Set in a "future" (2008) that is in some ways more outlandish than Avatar's (where there are still wheelchairs and cigarettes and a white majority), Southland Tales begins with a nuclear attack on American soil and ends with what may be the Second Coming. Yet it's not an unsettling experience like Michael Tolkin's The Rapture. The tone is joshing, buoyant, satirical, which may have worked had Kelly bothered with any kind of narrative coherence. Instead, he sets up clearly defined sides in a conflict -- reactionary Republicans vs. neo-Marxists -- only to muddy the waters by showing many of his characters working both sides of the fence. Similar to the original Manchurian Candidate, Southland Tales suggests that the extremist factions of the left and right have more in common with each other than anyone else. Problem is, he has nobody remotely "normal" for the audience to identify with.
In Avatar, Sully's disability -- and his refusal to let the loss of his legs get the better of him -- puts us on his side immediately; he's an unremarkable but wholly sympathetic protagonist. Additionally, by writing a strong character for Sigourney Weaver (scientist Grace Augustine, who creates the "avatar program" -- native alter-egos -- in order to get better acquainted with the Na'vi), Cameron proves once again that he's one of the few male filmmakers who know how to write women. His casting has become almost Tarantino-esque, offering meaty parts to non-A-list actors like Worthington, Weaver, the problematic Michelle Rodriguez (as a soldier who comes to question her mission), and best of all Stephen Lang as Col. Quaritch, the military commander of the invasion of the planet Pandora, where the Na'vi reside. Lang managed to create a fleshed-out character in Public Enemies despite Michael Mann's best efforts to keep him trapped in the amber of the frame with about eight lines of dialogue (seven of which he utters at the end). He does better by Cameron, who makes Quaritch a sadist, yes, but also a man who is true to his word.
In general, Avatar demonstrates that James Cameron is an underrated screenwriter. Yes, his dialogue is as lousy as ever (his favorite line still being "Oh, shit!"); but he's surprisingly deft with structure and characterization. Unlike Southland Tales, which goes in about fifteen directions in the first thirty minutes, Avatar has a clear thoroughfare from start to finish, and its characters manage to have easily understood exteriors with suggestions of depths beneath. If Giovanni Ribisi's capitalist opportunist in Avatar is less subtle than Paul Reiser's progenitor in Aliens, he nonetheless reveals serious misgivings, more shadings than you normally see from this kind of character in this kind of movie.
James Cameron hasn't an ironic bone in his body; how could he to make a movie that employs cutting-edge technology to trumpet the simple virtues of people of the land? His tall, blue, long-tailed Na'vi, who looked ridiculous in the previews, win you over out of the director's sheer conviction: Sully comes to love them, and so we love them too. Richard Kelly, on the other hand, almost seems to want to alienate his audience. His famous debut, Donnie Darko, picked up a large cult following, I suspect, because its convoluted time-warp plot was attached to an interesting and engaging central character. (I haven't seen his latest effort, The Box.) Southland Tales multiples the ensemble along with the narrative contortions: it's a cheeky joke that Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, Seann William Scott, Mandy Moore, Nora Dunn, Justin Timberlake, Christopher Lambert, Jon Lovitz, and just about every other B- and C-lister figure in a film that begins with "Chapter IV" and leaves out vital pieces of information until the end. But the cherry on top was casting Sarah Michelle Gellar as a porn star -- which, as Robin Williams might say, is like Gandhi on catering. (Gellar, as with that other thrice-named Sarah, Ms. Jessica Parker, always wants to give the impression that she's naughtier than she's actually willing to be.) Southland Tales managed the unlikely feat of pissing off both French and Americans because it indicts all sides of its argument under a thick layer of irony.
Yet a funny thing happened last week, when Southland Tales finally crept to the top of my Netflix queue: I adored it. The movie is long and ungainly, with more than a few awful scenes and various off-putting grotesqueries. Yet beneath the ironic gaze, Kelly shows real affection for his characters and gives his performers a lot of line to take risks, some of which come off beautifully. Johnson is charmingly neurotic as Boxer Santoros, a movie star with a case of amnesia and family ties to the Republican Party. Scott is a revelation as doppelganger police officers Roland and Ronald Taverner. Miranda Richardson displays wicked cunning as Boxer's mother, the head of a Patriot Act extension called USIdent. Former SNL regulars Cheri Oteri and Nora Dunn dig into their roles as neo-Marxist nutballs, while Jon Lovitz has a startling cameo as a trigger-happy cop. And as it turns out, Gellar's overstudied, anti-sensual acting style proves a perfect fit for Krysta Now, who dreams of leaving the pornography industry for the holy land of talk shows and energy drinks.
What is more, Kelly knows how to stage big payoff scenes -- whether they be Timberlake's shellshocked Iraq War veteran lip-synching to the Killers' "All These Things That I've Done," or Rebekah Del Rio's spine-tingling interpretation of "The Star-Spangled Banner." (Both sequences suggest he could make one hell of a great musical.) And for all his wayward digressions, Kelly shares Cameron's gift for bringing various strands together for a rousing climax. Avatar ends with a climactic battle on Pandora between the heavy artillery under Quaritch's command and the Native-American-style of combat of the Na'vi. It's unabashedly exhilarating spectacle. Yet the final hour of Southland Tales -- involving urban warfare on the ground and a mega-zeppelin and floating ice-cream truck in the air (trust me, it makes sense) -- has such a poetic lyricism I hope Kelly learns it as a lesson that narrative clarity need not be the enemy, no matter what David Lynch tells him.
The over-the-top vitriol toward Southland Tales -- a movie not even grade-inflater Roger Ebert could love -- confirms two things: the French have lost their sense of adventure; and thanks to PR wizards who know how to manipulate the hype machine, actual cinematic disasters are so rare these days that on the rare occasion critics get a whiff of blood they circle like sharks for the kill. Richard Kelly hasn't yet earned the props of James Cameron, whose dynamic with film critics largely depends on him snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. (When the occasional Kenneth Turan attempts to take him down a peg, it plays into the director's me-against-the-world persona even after he tries to use his power to get them canned.)
That's the narrative the self-crowned "King of the World" has crafted for himself in recent years, one that's become so iconic it's easy to forget that Cameron's only bona fide flop -- The Abyss -- remains one of his most interesting works to date. That movie, beneath all its special effects wizardry, remains a rather poignant examination of marriage, a pet theme that Cameron returned to again in True Lies and hasn't looked back since. Like Titanic, Avatar revolves instead around young romance -- love fills the seats when it's burgeoning instead of dissolving. I don't begrudge Cameron the shift in focus; for being such a blowhard off-camera, with a fair share of troubled marriages to strong women with whom he shared professional partnerships (Kathryn Bigelow, Gale Anne Hurd, Linda Hamilton), he's sincerely devoted to his characters, never cynical or contemptuous, patient enough with their stories that occasionally -- as with a scene late in Avatar, when he eroticizes the sixty-and-still-got-it Weaver -- he surprises us with an indelible image.
Visually, Avatar moves into uncharted terrain for its director, veering from his patented blacks and grays to bursts of gorgeous reds, purples and greens. Yet the switch from shiny-cool surfaces -- dazzling though it is -- doesn't take away the sense that something vital remains lacking from Cameron's palette, that he's repressing things that matter to him in order to connect to a larger audience. I got a big kick out of Avatar; it's a captivating entertainment. Yet had I seen it in 2-D, as a regular movie than an "experience," I doubt I'd have been as wowed.
Groundbreaking though James Cameron's films are, they don't age well. (The exception being the original Terminator, which creates a potent mythic universe with a buck-fifty budget in under two hours of screen time.) His movies are very much of their moment, and almost quaintly exist for the big screen. Whereas the qualities of Lawrence of Arabia still hold up on TV (whatever it lacks otherwise), Titanic's flaws magnify as its visual-emotional impact shrinks. I'm betting the same fate is in store for Avatar; after a few years, I can't see even its most ardent fans gathering around at midnight to watch it the way Donnie Darko's do. Easily distracted, by then they'll likely have moved on to the Next Big Thing.
Will Southland Tales eventually garner its share of devotees? Ed Howard reported that the teenagers in his audience "seemed surprisingly appreciative of Kelly's weirdo opus, suggesting that suburban America is ready for this film, if only they'd heard about it." My hunch, though, is Richard Kelly's satirical/political/theological/ philosophical/sociological/comic-book pastiche appeals to a very limited niche; that for all his flaky brilliance, he could use a dash of James Cameron's populism if he hopes to remain relevant (i.e., employed) as a filmmaker. I don't begrudge Kelly's artistic choices any more than I do Cameron's. This comparison isn't about creating a false dichotomy in which one is preferable over the other. But clearly the future of cinema is preferring one style as it leaves the other behind. And I think it is in cinema's best interests for all species of film to have a fighting chance to survive.
8 comments:
This is a great article and I do understand why you chose to tackle both of these filmmakers at the same time.
I do plan to see Avatar eventually, preferably once the hype and, let's face it, the entire film community calms down and I can approach it with some level of objectivity. What is about movies like this that bring out mass hysteria over the internet?
I do think you hit on the issues I have had with previous Cameron films. For all of his strengths in creating truly dynamic cinema, his need to appeal to wide audiences tends to ground the potential ambition in his work. Although you shouldn't use a budget to criticize a director's work, I do wonder if running his budgets so high results in his work feeling so compromised. It is frustrating because he is one of the better action directors out there but he has yet to make anything resembling a truly great film for me.
I wish I could share your affection for "Southland Tales". My feeling about the film is that it occupies a middle ground. Either I feel Kelly should have written a far tighter narrative or just gone completely off the rails. Both would have been preferable the muddle he actually wound up with.
The film seems to be comprised of disjointed scenes and then sections where Kelly tries desperately to patch it all together with narration and exposition. I feel the entire movie suffers from Kelly's lack of vision. He seems indecisive about story, tone, his willingness to engage politically, how to direct his actors and even visual style. I can't really get behind it being considered an inspired mess because the writing and filmmaking are a bit too shoddy for me to forgive, considering the surer hand he had for "Darko".
I know the fanboys are annoying, but try to tune that shit out when you go see Avatar. I also highly recommend seeing it in IMAX 3-D, if at all possible. Like I wrote, I have a feeling the basic mediocrity of the movie will be more apparent in the traditional format. It was clearly made in such a way to take advantage of the "immersive experience," and admittedly does so with a gusto that's hard to resist. (At least for me, a newbie.)
Good point about Cameron's gifts as an action director. I didn't really touch on it, but he's one of the few filmmakers around who lets action setpieces unfold in a way that's coherent and exciting to watch (e.g., the aerial combat sequences in Avatar), rather than chopping it up to bits. And his emphasis on character adds a little more weight that you'll get from Michael Bay, the new George Lucas, et al. I probably exaggerated JC's screenwriting abilities a wee bit. He has a tendency to unnecessarily repeat scenes and add to the bloat. At the same time, I think some critics make too much of his dialogue problems; it was kind of an earsore in Titanic, but does a corny line now and then really matter in a movie like this?
What I miss in Cameron's movies is a sense of his personal worldview. I get his politics, which are as dippy in Avatar as they were with the "nukes are bad" message in The Abyss. But The Abyss also has the defining scene of any James Cameron movie: When Ed Harris tosses his wedding ring down the toilet, then reaches down to fish it out. You're right that Cameron seems more compromised now; the odd thing, with no studio heads daring to tell him what to do, is he's compromising himself.
Speaking of compromise, that may have been what resulted in the ham-fisted narration and exposition in Southland Tales. Reportedly the movie was a complete trainwreck in its original form, and Kelly went back and re-did Timberlake's voiceover to make the plot more "understandable." Still, for all its hash, the film make an astonishing amount of sense by the end. And there are some thrilling sequences and images. Ed Howard mentioned that Southland Tales is all about information overload, and I agree with him that Kelly's tonal change-ups are largely deliberate in keeping with that theme. It's certainly not a film for everybody, and part of me wishes he made it with a little more discipline. Yet I also think the creative freedom Kelly gives himself and his actors takes them to some interesting places.
I've seen Donnie Darko (not impressed) and The Box (I enjoyed it) and now your comparative analysis here intrigues me to see Southland Tales. Sounds like the quirky type of movie I like.
I like what you say about Avatar - how Worthington provides "a low-key, emotionally direct center." I was impressed by his presence in this movie, and making him a paraplegic was a clever device, making his surrogate life as a wild and free Na'vi all the more exhilarating. I also agree that Titanic - as will Avatar - loses much on the small screen. But watching it recently, I was still touched by the convincing chemistry between DiCaprio and Winslet and I was still engrossed by the historical detail.
Hokahey - good observation on Sully's condition. It does make his experiences more exhilarating for him, and by proxy the audience.
"Southland Tales" is quite a mash-up. You have to wade through some sludge to get to the good stuff, but I thought it was worth it. Will be curious what you think.
Another thing I like about "Southland Tales" is Kelly regards Iraq War veterans with a surprising amount of compassion (especially through Seann William Scott's moving performance). There are a lot of satirical jabs in this movie, but never aimed at them. "Pimps don't commit suicide" is its admirable message, about which I'll say no more.
Great post, and I'm glad to see such a thorough analysis of Southland Tales, which obviously I love despite all its messy excesses — which, yes, are definitely part of the plan as well, since the film does mimic the structure of modern media infotainment. I think it's actually Kelly's best film yet, his most powerful and ambitious statement, better than Donnie Darko's comparatively straightforward suburban sci-fi and better than the uneven but entertaining The Box, which starts as though it's going to follow through on its conventional thriller set-up and then gets increasingly nuttier the longer it goes on.
I totally agree that Kelly should do a musical, incidentally. That Killers/Timberlake lip-sync sequence is wonderful, as is Rebekah del Rio, appearing as one of many hat-tips to David Lynch. But the best thing about the movie is its casting, or more specifically the way Kelly makes what seems like ridiculous stunt-casting seem natural and even brilliant. The Rock is surprisingly great, suggesting that he could be a marvelous comedic actor if only he'd forsake the lame kiddie movies. (I recently saw a trailer for a movie where, I kid you not, he gets turned into the Tooth Fairy; it's starting to seem like that old South Park joke about improbable comedies: "Rob Schneider is... a stapler!") Gellar is equally excellent, in her own way, because her wooden blandness is a perfect fit for a porn star who has ambitions to be a media mogul. Is there any more truly modern character? The casting turns out to be both ludicrous and absolutely perfect, calling attention to how absurd our notions of celebrity are. It's a movie about a culture, a slightly exaggerated version of our own, where everybody's on TV or wants to be, and it's populated with exactly the kinds of low-level actors who exist on the fringes of TV and stardom.
As for Kelly's future, I only hope that he's able to keep making the kinds of movies he wants to make, but that seems increasingly unlikely. The Box was marketed as his attempt to go mainstream after the drubbing he received for Southland Tales, but it's anything but mainstream, and it's another flop under his belt. On the other hand, while a little populism might help Kelly sell more tickets, I don't think it'd necessarily be good for his art. What I like best in his work is the sense of unfettered imagination, the sense of an artistic mind slinging paint wildly onto canvas, furiously developing multiple ideas and images at once. Southland Tales may ultimately hang together as a narrative, however incomplete it is in many details, but its overall impression is of a messy, scattershot assembly of moods and ideas. That's what's great about it, and about the best moments in Kelly's other two films. I don't know if I'd want to see him tamed, though a serious taming is probably the only way he'll be able to continue making these kinds of movies in Hollywood.
Ed, you may be the most passionate and persuasive defender of Southland Tales out there. The casting was one of the things that initially kept me from watching it for so long -- you see all those names together on the same marquee, and you instinctively believe the movie is as bad as the critics say -- but it turned out to be inspired, and you make a good case for why they're all there.
There are a million different things going on in this movie, but everyone and everything share the same energy, and I got a happy buzz watching it.
(Incidentally, another great Richard Kelly musical number: the "Sparkle Motion" dance sequence from Donnie Darko. Rob Marshall could learn something from that film and Southland Tales about choreography and editing or lack thereof.)
I don't know if Kelly needs to be tamed, but I would like to see what he could do with a little focus. I think Martin Scorsese defined the art-vs.-commerce argument best: "You make one for them, and then one for you." (And, even then, his efforts with DiCaprio don't even come close to his body of work with De Niro.) While I don't want Kelly to sell out his own talent, I fear his becoming marginalized even more. Sci-fi nearly always has special effects, and that means higher budgets than the norm. If he hopes to continue working in that genre, he's going to have to compromise in some way.
Post a Comment