Gilliam Friday #3 – Brazil

Here we are in week three of the Gilliam project and we’ve already had some surprises. This week, however, no surprise with Brazil and its genius. This is a film I check in on every few years and like other high-level art, it is a film that strikes me as more relevant than ever.

Brazil stars Jonathan Pryce as Sam Lowry, a middle-of-the-road office worker for the totalitarian Ministry of Information. Gilliam begins the proceedings showing us another worker hunting down a bug, killing it, and creating a misprint on a docket labeling an innocent man as a threat to society. They are after a known terrorist named Tuttle (played by a game Robert DeNiro) but instead arrest a man named Buttle. The innocent man is tortured and accidentally killed because his heart condition wasn’t disclosed on the other man’s medical history. This is clarified in a hilariously inept exchange between Sam and a friend who happens to be the torturer. It is an indictment on the increasingly bureaucratic tendencies of modern government. All anyone does is blame another department, create fixes that break more things and eventually try and quiet dissenters.

We first meet Sam in the midst of a fantastical dream. While asleep, Sam sees himself as a majestic winged warrior, fighting monsters in order to save the damsel in distress. His dreams are shot with Sam mostly attacking from above, lending an air of superiority. This is in stark contrast to his real life which is mundane and small — with an overbearing mother to boot. Sam is content in his life until he sees an image of the woman he has been dreaming of. This sets Sam off on an adventure to find this literal woman of his dreams. The woman in question was a neighbor of Buttle and is searching for what happened to the innocent man. Sam gets wrapped up in her quest while also dealing with the real terrorist, Tuttle, who pops up every now and again to help Sam out of a pickle. These small events in particular are key in understanding where Gilliam is ultimately going with the story.

Gilliam has constructed two worlds in this film, one of majestic beauty, while the other is a hulking dystopia. Sam feels powerful in the world of his dreams and Pryce portrays him as calm and confident. The real world is where Pryce truly shines by playing Sam as a smallish yet determined man full of nervous energy. He so desperately wants a win and to do something that truly matters. He’s willing to go the distance. In a wonderful twist, Sam is actually way more heroic in the real world. Gilliam loads up the real world with trope imagery. All office workers look and dress the same, managers are the same, assistants are the same, kids all are the same — you see where I’m going with this. The society is beholden to the technology they crave — TVs and radios are everywhere. In classic Gilliam fashion, the future again looks antiquated. We quickly realize how this film represents a perfect marriage of material and artist. Gilliam has always had an adversarial relationship with authority and Brazil is a commentary on this aspect of society — it is also so much more. Gilliam is also rubbing our faces in our own fascist relationship with technology. The more we seek the comfort and ease of tech, the quicker and easier we become a slave to it. Is tech a stand-in for God?

Gilliam blasts out of the gates on fire. His camera creates terror, confusion and paranoia in nearly every scene. It is constantly chaotic and hilariously absurd. This is also the director’s most focused film to this point in his career. He bought in and the film is instantly laser focused. Another thing of note is the whimsical, musical sensibility Gilliam instills in the real world setting. This creates a perfect and telling rhythm to the film and Gilliam never loses it here. Everything works like a finely tuned piece of machinery from start to finish.

It’s important for Gilliam to maintain total control as the narrative spirals into madness. The stakes get higher and Sam’s fantasy dream world begins to blend into the real world. I feel like Brazil was a major influence for the film, Being John Malkovich. With that said, there is still more to unpack with the film because it would stand as a classic without even delving into the twist of the finale. Eventually, Sam is captured and before he can be tortured, he is rescued by Tuttle and other insurgents. Sam and Tuttle are chased with Tuttle literally disappearing in a storm of loose papers. The chase for Sam continues as his dream world and real world fully blend together. Sam is then confronted and chased by his own failures as a man and by every facet of society he has thus far faced. Gilliam is showing us that middle age is a confrontation of what happens if you give up on your dreams — you’re destined to be imprisoned by your own shortcomings. This is the cost of what we give up in order to join the rat race instead of chasing the wants and hopes of our youth. Sam is confronted by his mother who, through plastic surgery, now looks just like the woman from Sam’s dreams. Sam then disappears into a void and ends up rescued by his dream woman — rescued by love.

Except he isn’t rescued at all. Sam is last seen having been captured and lobotomized — destined to live out his days in the bliss of a manufactured simpleton.

What does it all mean?

I’ll stake my flag right here saying that Sam was actually Tuttle all along. The Tuttle we saw represented by DeNiro was never really there, nor was the woman of Sam’s dreams. No, Sam was captured early on and tortured in order for the Ministry of Information to maintain control. This is a sour ending to a visually joyous film but it’s also a profound lesson for us to learn about how delusion can alter our perception of even the simplest of things. Gilliam hit one out of the park with Brazil, one of his best films, and one of the most inventive films Hollywood has seen. I loved it my whole life and I love it even more now.

Next Friday is the day for the Baron. Until then, love each other.

Honey Boy And The Importance Of Therapy

Trauma is a knife that cuts two ways. It can embolden someone and harden them against the ills of the world. It can also ruin a person from the inside out, rendering them incapable of ever moving on to a better life. There are many avenues to travel which lay between the two extremes I laid out above. Most people get lost in between and trauma is something that pulls both sets of strings. Shia Labeouf is a man who went through the wringer. He began as a child actor who was suddenly about to be Hollywood’s next big thing. He was there.

And then he wasn’t.

Labeouf had a self destructive streak which led him down a dark and winding path. He had multiple encounters with co-stars, police, and anyone who got in his way. He was headed for destruction.

He got help.

While in rehab, and more importantly, therapy, Labeouf began to come to terms with his past. Honey Boy is based on his own life growing up in show biz with parents largely un-equipped to shelter him. When you watch this film, it will come as no surprise that the script, which he wrote, began as a form of therapy. This allowed him to step outside of himself and tell the story of a boy in trouble. It also allowed him to step into his own father’s shoes and better understand where the problems came from. None of this is easy. It’s a testament to the inner strength that Labeouf found that he’s back on his feet. And stepping in to play his own father in the film feels dangerous but you can also see the catharsis — it’s a release.

The script is wonderful and naked. It’s a brutally honest deconstruction of the people who hurt him as a child but it is never without love. His performance in the film is true in a way we rarely see, which makes it riveting.

The film’s direction by Alma Har’el lends an air of dark fantasy. We watch this young boy grow up in nothing but a series of awful circumstances. There is one scene in particular where the young boy is forced to dictate a fight between his parents through the telephone. It’s a harrowing scene that will leave you begging for mercy.

The happy ending doesn’t come with fame. Lucas Hedges plays the young adult version as he spirals completely out of control. He’s all pent up rage, searching for an outlet. Hedges is quickly rising to the top of the ranks of his generation of actors. I should also point out the actor playing the younger version, Noah Jupe, is also magnificent.

No child should have to do the emotional heavy lifting with their parents and watching this film made me thankful for my own family.

In the end, Labeouf and Har’el have given us a dark fable for the ages. It will leave you raw and searching for the phone to call the ones you love. I can’t recommend this film enough.

Next week, Alex Garland’s brilliant show, Devs. Until then, love each other.

First Reformed or The Diary Of Paul Schrader

I’m a year and a half late to this party but Paul Schrader’s film, First Reformed, is an astonishing work. It’s a terrifying vision of what can happen to us when we become overwhelmed by the negativity of the world. The film is sparse, somber, and chillingly effective. It’s the story of a small town preacher, dealing with his own issues, trying to help a couple expecting their first child. The man wants his wife to have an abortion because he is afraid to bring a child into the world. He’s an environmental activist who is bordering on becoming a terrorist. He’s seeking help but is unable to grapple with everything going on around him. He is lost. His wife is symbolic of purity of spirit. She is hope personified and only wants the man she fell in love with to come back to her. The wife is played perfectly by Amanda Seyfried. In retrospect, it is perfect casting. Her eyes are so expressive that we are pulled into her orbit, willing to help in any way we can.

The priest at the center of this film is barely holding on himself. He’s terminally ill and drinks his nights away while keeping a journal chronicling his struggles with his own faith and his own descent into depression. Ethan Hawke plays this priest and gives us a gift of a performance. He’s always been a phenomenal actor and this is his career best performance.

I’m not going to get into any more details of the plot because this film is one best discovered sight unseen. Allow it to envelop you in its embrace. Schrader has crafted something that is a high point of his own career — and that is saying a lot. Paul Schrader is an artist who has written four films for Martin Scorsese — he understands the balance of a film. The sound design is impeccable. We hear and feel every creak of the floorboards and we understand the age of this part of the country. His shot composition is that of a beautiful horror film. And one could make the argument that Schrader has indeed crafted a horror film. What’s more horrifying than losing one’s soul? Each shot unsettles and leaves us seeking the same comfort each of the characters are themselves seeking.

A unique aspect of Paul Schrader’s career is that he seemingly understands multiple generations. His films always feel timely. This is because Schrader loves to explore and experiment deep in the human psyche. I will go further and suggest that this film is borne of his own diary. I could suggest this of many of his films. His writing always feels urgent because he is always brutally honest. There is no fear in Schrader’s writing.

While watching this film, I took copious notes. The ideas and my thoughts and musings continued to pour out of me long after the film ended. I’ve wondered if the camera is representative of sanity. Is the camera God? Is it sitting in judgment of these characters? There’s a scene in the film which, the best way I can describe it, serves as a cosmic floating scene. Ethan Hawke floats into the cosmos and then through time. The scene goes cosmos, nature, man, destruction. Schrader isn’t mincing words here. First reformed would make for a great double billing with another film Schrader wrote, one of his Scorsese films, Taxi Driver. They explore similar themes albeit by taking different routes. I’ll leave you with this quote from the film: We know who speaks for big business but who speaks for God?

See you Wednesday and then Friday and then Monday, which is Honey Boy. Until then, love each other.