Damn Dirty Apes

This is another entry in the Close-Up Blog-A-Thon over at The House Next Door. Be sure to check out the hub for some great writing. Also, I would like to apologize for my computer refusing to take an adequate screenshot. Unfortunately, there will be no pictures to supplement my arguments. Sorry about that.

The first close-up of 2001: A Space Odyssey seems out of place. On the African plains, night is falling. We see a leopard, and its roars dominate the soundtrack for the rest of the scene. We watch a group of apes huddling for safety among a group of rocks. We see Moonwatcher, the leader of this group, watching over the others alone. Two apes hold each other closely, the first real sign of affection among the apes. And then the close-up.

An ape's face dominates the screen, its eyes wide and constantly moving. This is the first time we have seen an ape's eyes up close, and we see the fear the leopard inspires. This sort of emotion is something we've yet to see so far, and it's something we won't see again until we're introduced to HAL. This is an ape that has human qualities, and it turns out to be more human than David Bowman or Frank Poole. This sort of revelation can be shocking.

In fact, David doesn't truly show emotion until he has already gone to Jupiter and through the monolith. HAL, often described as killing the crew members with ruthless efficiency, acts out of fear. In the infamous scene where HAL reads David and Frank's lips as they talk about shutting him down, most people see HAL as uncaring and calculating. I see it as a creature learning about a threat. Is HAL really supposed to just sit idly while Frank and David turn off all his mental capabilities? No, like any sentient being, HAL needs to fight back. His actions are motivated by the fear of being shut down, and his protest to Dave explicitly tells the audience that this is a being capable of emotion. Dave has never shown fear. He reacts to every situation with pure logic, yet we align ourselves with him because he has become a representative of our species. But the humans here are less human than HAL, and they are less human than the apes we saw before. Dave needs something extraordinary to happen for him to become human.

That something happens when he passes through the monolith. First he is literally transported, but then he is mentally transported. Once we see the first extreme close-up of Dave's eyeball, I believe we see things shown in his mind. By passing through the monolith, his mind is being altered just as the apes' minds were altered. Dave is learning about the origins of the universe, and so are we. This, I think, explains his state when his ship finally comes to rest in the bedroom. His mind simply isn't ready to process the information that has been given to him. Then we return to a normal close-up of Dave. He is finally frightened. He must become human to surpass humanity. It is only at the end of his body's life that his mind is truly ready to move to the next level. Once he is beyond the state of being human, he does not need to have fear. This is reflected by the close-up of the Starchild. The Starchild is calm, for he is beyond a human state.

The close-up is used in 2001: A Space Odyssey to show the emotion that is so rare in this film. Apes are scared. HAL is scared. Dave is not until his mind is altered. The Starchild is peaceful, maybe even happy. The first glimpse of happiness in the film comes from a being that is beyond human. What does that say about us?

How Do I Love Thee, Nic Cage?

Nicolas Cage is one of the best actors around. He has starred in good movies, and he has starred in true shit. Yet somehow, he almost always comes away clean. And, surprisingly enough, he often does his best work in the worst movies. Which isn't to say that Next is a bad movie. It has a few moments that make the movie worth your time, and I may be the only person happy to see terroists with indistinguishable European accents, but it's a solid little film, elevated, of course, by Cage's performance.

Next, at least for a few minutes, has a major Kubrick fixation. When Cage's Cris Johnson reveals to Liz (Jessica Biel, bland as ever) that he can see into the future, he flips through a number of channels on the TV, telling her the first line on that channel. Somehow, he ends up resting on Dr. Strangelove, horribly appropriate considering the government wants him to find a renegade nuclear bomb. A massive chase follows (one of the few highlights of the film that doesn't stem from Cage being Cage), ending with Cage caught by the government. They want him to find what will happen with the nuke, and so give the film's best image.

The government, here represented by Julianne Moore, places Cage in a chair with the Clockwork Orange eyelid locks, and force him to watch . . . the news. The implication here is positively hilarious, and that's the sort of tone that Next brings to the table. If nothing else, Next is a black comedy about what can be in the world. There is something strangely funny about watching Nic Cage split into 3 to scope for bad guys.

Unfortunately for audiences, the biggest joke is on them. Next has possibly the most dissatisfying ending I have ever seen, but that makes me love it even more. After all, this is a film about manipulation. Since Johnson can see into the future, he can change it. Just as the government manipulates him to find the bomb, he manipulates everything around him, as we are shown many a time, often for a laugh. The terrorists, whom the government try so desperately to find, are actually following the government. All this toying must lead somewhere, but when it does, the audience feels cheated. It turns out we were the ones manipulated the whole time. From an outsider's perspective, it's very amusing. Unfortunately for Next, most people will not be able to remove themselves from the proceedings enough to get the joke.

Beware the Ides of March

Everything you need to know about Spartacus you can learn during the Overture. First, by the very fact that is has an Overture (something I haven't seen outside of 2001: A Space Odyssey and Lawrence of Arabia) tells the viewer that they are sitting down to an epic film. And, like Lawrence, Spartacus is a film grand enough in scale to lament only watching on a television. Scenes of the slaves' camp and the final battle are, simply put, awe inspiring in their size.

Second, the Overture sets up the general construct of the film. The Overture begins triumphantly before pulling into a slower lull. Finally, it returns to its triumpant beginning. The ending is very abrupt, as if leaving out the true ending. It is this ending that sets up the general pattern of the film. Almost every scene in which Spartacus (Kirk Douglas) succeeds is cut off either in its beginning or in its end. Spartacus' defeats, however, are shown from beginning to end. This is most notable in Spartacus' two gladiatorial matches with Draba (Woody Strode) and the two battles with the Roman army.

The first fight with Draba is a sparring match, with both using short swords. We see Spartacus knock Draba down against the surrounding gates, and the camera immediately cuts away to another scene. The second fight, probably the second most recognizable scene in the film, is the most exciting scene in the film, showing Spartacus with the short sword fighting Draba with a trident, apparently his natural weapon. Every motion is captured, both for the enjoyment of the senators watching the match and of the viewer watching the film. This is a battle the Spartacus loses, though Draba spares his life. In saving Spartacus' life, Draba gives his own. This is mirrored later in the film's most quoted scene.

Spartacus shows only two battles. The first comes against the forces of an arrogant Glabrus (John Dall), and the second pits Spartacus' masses against the entire Roman army, led by Crassus (Laurence Olivier). The viewers hear about Spartacus' battle plans against Glabrus, but the cut is not to troops marching into battle. The camera's next image shows tents blazing, Glabrus already in defeat. Sure, we get to celebrate the victory with Spartacus. But we do not get to enjoy the battle as it happens. That pleasure is reserved for the ultimate faceoff between Spartacus and Crassus. Unfortunately, the pleasure belongs entirely to Crassus.

This sad ending was practically unprecedented in a swords and sandals epic. The first such movie without the religious overtones, Spartacus splits its time between a savage critique of the (Roman) government, a celebration of a rebellion of the masses, and the near silent relationship between Spartacus and Varinia (Jean Simmons). No one in the Roman Senate is clean, the slaves are defeated and crucified, and Varinia is lucky to be able to escape with her child. Though the story is filled with tragedy, Stanley Kubrick is able to portend the doom from the very beginning, filling the overall feel of the film with a sense of dread. No victory is short enough, and no defeat too long for Kubrick. And he lays it bare for all to see in the Overture.