Monday 19 September 2016

Objects #47 + #48 - Swing-set / Pram - Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) / Spotlight (2015)

Dir. Philip Kaufman / Tom McCarthy 




Unease can be conveyed in film in startlingly unique ways. As you would expect, horror films tend to dabble in this area significantly,  crossing over into other emotive responses like dread, anxiety, or tension. Both Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and Spotlight deal with issues that make us uneasy. Body Snatchers deals with insidious alien invaders, with this re-make less a reaction to the Red Scare (as in the 1956 original), but more the conformity and group-think nature of humanity as a whole. Spotlight on the other hand finds unease in the response to wide-scale paedophilic abuse of children by priests in positions of power. 

In Spotlight, there is a scene where investigative reporter, Sacha Pfeiffer (Rachel McAdams) questions abuse victim Joe Crowley (Michael Cyril Creighton) about the specifics of his abuse by his local priest. In an earlier scene this interview began, with the two in a busy coffee shop. Pfeiffer's urging of Crowley for specifics causes him to tell her that they should get the coffees 'to go'. We are already reminded of the taboo nature of the interview and the events that will be described, with Crowley wanting to avoid anyone overhearing their discussion. When we cut back to the two, they walk in a park, Joe holding his coffee cup, nervously describing how his priest preyed on his blossoming childhood homosexuality, inviting him over for strip poker games, which would lead to sexual abuse. In a genius piece of direction and editing, we see Crowley and Pfeiffer pause their conversation as a mother pushing a pram walks by. The camera cuts briefly behind the two, as we see the pram pass them, then cuts back to Crowley, nervously continuing. 


I think this is genius as it's almost literally blink-and-you'll-miss-it, yet it is has significant power in again reminding us of the presence of vulnerable children in Boston, as well as the parents who would react negatively to not only the abuse of children being described in detail, but also, being set in 2000/2001, to Crowley's homosexuality. The entire premise is full of taboo, which the Spotlight reporters wish to break in order to call attention to a serious abuse of power. The scene ends with the two gazing up at a large church, in direct vicinity to the playground and park they'be been walking through, hammering home the serious vulnerability of Boston's children due to wide-spread religious influence being wholly accepted, and church priests being seen as innocent. As Crowley and other victims describe - how do you turn down requests from avatars of God, even if you don't understand that it's abuse?  

Also of note is how in the entire film, children are rarely seen, despite them being one of the two groups of focus of the Spotlight team. The other group, priests, are seen more, however McCarthy chooses to focus the film almost entirely on the investigation, rather than the child victims (as children, rather than grown adults) or the priests who commit the abuse. The pram then is even more powerful a symbol due to its rarity in the film.  


In Body Snatchers, the unease is directly externalized in the image of a priest, in full garb, swinging on a swing-set. What is similarly genius in the film is the simplicity in conveying this unease. By having famous actor Robert Duvall cameo in this one instance in the film, the audience reacts to the priest in the opening scene by going "Hang on, is that Robert Duvall? What the fuck is he doing in this movie?" (Ok that's how I responded, but you get the gist). The recognizability of Duvall, and his unexpected appearance make the image, that of a priest playing on the swing-set with a child (already creepy in its own right) that much odder, and thus more uneasy. His bland, stoic expression also adds to this unease, as he clearly doesn't enjoy the swinging - so what is he doing it for? He stares blankly at Elizabeth (Brooke Adams), and is the precursor to how the pod-people (the converted humans) react to humans throughout the film for the most part - with disinterested, yet focus. 

Here, the imagery of a priest and child playing, unconsciously suggests that the relationship between the alien invaders and humans will be like that of a priest abuser and a child, with the priest knowing what he does is wrong (perhaps less so with the alien invaders, who seem far more primal and biological in their take-over), and the child, unaware of the insidious nature of the abuse, like the humans unaware of the take-over until it is far too late to stop. 

There are far more horrifying, tense, and bizzare images in the film, however this initial image works fantastically in setting the scene and priming the viewer that yes, shit will get weird in this film. The half-converted dog with a hobo's face, and Donald Sutherland's final scream stick with me always as effective moments of film horror, as well as this scene with the swing-set. That three phenomenally creative and effective moments come from the same film is a testament to Kaufman, in his update of the 1956 original. Spotlight shares the subtext of priesthood abuse, and also has other moments of profound unease, such as Pfeiffer's door-way interview with an abuser who shows no remorse for his actions, and the presence of a priest known to be an abuser living down the street from Matt Carroll (Brian d'Arcy James), a Spotlight member with children. 

Both films seriously deserve watching, and if you want creepy insidious themes, then watch these, not Insidious...these are way better. 

Saturday 10 September 2016

Object #46 - Plane - Land of Silence and Darkness (1971)

Dir. Werner Herzog 



Disability can be a tragedy. 

In viewing Herzog's Land of Silence and Darkness, you contemplate the existence of the deaf-blind. The documentary, a short 85 minutes in length, tied not only geographically to Germany, but chronologically to the early 70's, manages to explore almost the entire spectrum of the deaf-blind, from those born with the disability, to those who know what it is to see and hear, but have lost the ability, as well as nearly everything inbetween. The film focuses on Fini Straubinger, a remarkable woman who champions the deaf-blind of Germany, as she visits these varied permutations of the deaf-blind, campaigns for their acknowledgment in a world which routinely forgets their existence, and simply by appearing in the documentary - has made this message timeless.

I could honestly write and write and write about this film but I'll keep it focused. Early in the film, after a few scenes establishing Fini, Elsa, and the way in which they communicate, we see them visit an airfield. Incidentally, they communicate entirely by touch, with a sign language designed for the deaf-blind, as they stroke and tap each others' fingers and palm. 

Step back here, and imagine it. You can speak entirely coherently, however being deaf you do not traditionally 'hear' it, more feeling the vibrations of the throat. You do not see the person you are speaking to, nor can you hear them speak. For two deaf-blind people to communicate, they use touch, and enunciate using the hand and palm. Later in the film Fini elaborates on the difficulty of meet-ups for a large number of the deaf-blind, as each of them requires a non-disabled friend or family member to aid them in not only reaching the meet-up location, but also to act as a guide as to having two deaf-blind people understand who they are communicating with, where that person (and themselves) are in the room, and other details such as if they have company, what they're wearing, etc.. ...can you imagine?! And yet Fini and her friends stand tall, and live a life full of meaning, in a world of, well, silence and darkness.


See I'm getting side-tracked again. Scene: Airfield. Fini and Elsa are guided to a stationary prop plane on the airfield so that they can experience something new. A day-trip, where not only do we see them touch this completely foreign object, but they sit in it, and experience flight in utter darkness and silence. Their guide describes the plane's wing that they feel with their hand in context, relating it to the size of a car, something that they are familiar with, and using units of distance and size, frankly, as you would with a blind person. However in an utterly utterly human way, we see Fini's familiarity with the process, as she places her hand out so that it can be guided to Elsa so that they can chat about the experience. She is, by her disability, helpless, but her body language and attitude do not convey this. She, who was not born deaf-blind, but became so early in life, has had to rely on people nearly all her life, and yet here she has drive, she has goals, even if it is simply to share her thoughts with Elsa. 

Within the plane, we see them experience take-off and flight itself, which, as you likely know, is a very strong feeling, something the deaf-blind can share with us non-disabled. The feeling of turbulence, wind drag, and air pressure change. They cannot see the large expanse of Germany from up on high, nor can they hear the engines - but they can feel them. And thanks to the help of their guides and friends, they can understand what does surround them, mechanically in the plane, and what is outside the windows. The two reach forward and behind so that they can discuss the experience, tapping away at their palms. 


Again, in a late scene on a train, Fini describes her experience as being one of complete solitude and loneliness, with the touch of another like ripples in an otherwise still pond. It's poetry, sheer, profound poetry, and one which comes from a place remarkably unique. You could view the inability to hear the laughter of a child, or the inability to view Germany on high from a plane as a tragedy, yet out of this tragic disability, and I mean that in the core sense of the word - the inability to do something fundamental, is humanity. A human experience reflected and refracted by physical boundaries, but nonetheless human.

You can view the entire film on YouTube, (unfortunately with no English subtitles) and the plane scene begins at around 5:25. I've just re-watched it and my god I forgot how happy Elsa is! She's at least 60, and yet at one point she clasps her hands to her chest in glee, like a young girl. It's beautiful. Disability can be a tragedy, and indeed Herzog does not shy away from this, as we see a born deaf-blind boy later in the film struggle aimlessly within what we know of as a dark and silent void. It wouldn't be Herzog without darkness, and yet despite this being one of his very early works, as well as a documentary, it still has the hallmark that nearly every Herzog film has - that darkness accompanies life, but we would not appreciate life anywhere near as much without it. Watching this film with no disability reminds us that life can be so much more difficult, and dark, and lonely - at a fundamental level. Yet you see Elsa clasp her hands to her chest in glee at a plane ride she can only feel, and you know that disability is not a tragedy, not always. There is a human being in every person, no matter their physical or mental handicaps, who can enjoy new experiences of life, like a ride in a plane.