Someone To Watch Over Me

Someone To Watch Over Me is Ridley Scott’s fifth major motion picture as a director and thus far we have seen his career go from something great to something rather terrible to this.  I have grappled with my feelings for this film over the past few years since the first time I saw it, and the only conclusion I can come to is that it is in many ways typical of Scott’s other works, but in other ways it is hopelessly caught in the 80s never to be retrieved from that era.  Many great things came out of the 80s, but I would not necessarily put Someone To Watch Over Me on the top of that list.  Thematically, Someone To Watch Over Me brings up some important cultural stratification issues, but structurally and as a cinematic work I am left with questions. 

Kracauer writes about the significance of film as a mirror for society, especially in its representations of class structures and the interactions between the classic hierarchies.  In this film we see a clear differentiation between the upper and lower class, but they come together as Detective Keegan and Claire come together as characters.  Obviously Kracauer notices the often unrealistic portrayals of society in film, so he states that the more absurd a filmic display of society becomes, the more of a commentary on the ridiculous aspects of that society it becomes.  In other words, in order for a cinematic society to be considered absurd it has to blow some aspect of real society out of proportion, so the film becomes a commentary on that absurdist aspect, much like a caricature portrait of a person emphasizes his or her most noticeable qualities. Someone To Watch Over Me looks at society in simplified terms as Claire is the privileged socialite and Keegan is the underprivileged hard working detective supporting his family.  The characters are pigeonholed into these roles, so they have limited room to grow or transform throughout the film.  When they do finally break their molds and their worlds collide, bad things happen thus reinforcing the idea that classes should stay separate unless they want the tragic repercussions shown in this movie.   

It very much reinforces Scott’s idea that someone is always watching, as evidenced by the title.  Like in Blade Runner, there are always police officers, stalkers, and the public eye looking at Claire and observing her every move.  Although set in a very different environment from Blade Runner, Berenger’s Keegan parallels the actions and motivations of Ford’s Deckard.  They are both trying to save the forbidden woman from the evil that lurks around her whether it is in the form of a murderous loan shark or a murderous CEO.  Epic battles scenes ensue between the forces of good and evil and, predictably, good triumphs in the end and leaves everything set right in the world.  The end scenes of each of these films make interesting comparisons to each other; in Blade Runner Deckard ultimately destroys Tyrell, but in Someone To Watch Over Me Keegan is not the final hero.  I think the dynamic set up by Keegan not ending Venza’s life gives his wife, Ellie, more agency and speaks volumes for the strength of women.  Throughout the film we see Ellie as the strong, independent female figure and Claire as the dependent and naïve woman and the ending merely confirms these roles for each woman.  Claire basically has zero power because she cannot protect herself or make her own decisions, everything is done for her except when it comes to money.  Ellie, on the other hand, does not have money yet gains power because she stands up to her male counterparts and remains feminine.  She is the one to shoot Venza in the end, not Mike or any other police officer, so she is the one to restore the order to the universe once again.

Claire’s character supports every hegemonic ideal that women cannot  think and act for themselves properly by coming full circle from the innocent witness to the fleeing woman that cannot handle the stresses of a forbidden love and crime ridden life.  We secretly root for Mike and Claire to get together, which they do, but it leaves us with a feeling of guilt and shame for wanting the wrong couple to end up together.  Scott does a great job of portraying the undeniable attraction between Claire and Mike, but he still follows through with the stereotypical fairytale ending.  The little shop girls can exit the theater knowing full well that they will someday get their own fairytale ending, just like Ellie.

Raiders of the Lost Ark

Raiders of the Lost Ark is the first installment of Lucas’ Indiana Jones tales and it doesn’t disappoint as Lucas continues to grow as a filmmaker.  When I think of classic Indy images many of them come from Raiders, like the infamous rolling boulder booby trap set off by Indy’s misjudgment of weight when stealing the idol.  He sets this film apart by playing on the humorous qualities of our famed archaeologist while simultaneously developing a complex action plotline that is still fascinating to follow.  All parts of the story mesh extremely well between the humor, action, and roller coaster of love that Indiana Jones experiences along the way, not to mention a stellar cast helps keep things interesting.

I have learned that Lucas is a great judge of setting and just how, and especially when, to set a film in order to make the plotline more believable and thrilling.  Although Lucas made the film in 1981, it is set fifty years earlier in the 1930s when a discovery such as the lost ark would be most enticing to a group like the Nazi regime. In typical Lucas fashion though, of course, the ark has magical qualities that draw archaeologists, fascists, and local mystics towards it alike.  The battle that ensues to find the legendary ark, supposedly holding the original ten commandment tablets, intertwines with Jones’ own personal life by involving Marion, an ex-lover.  Juxtaposing the real (WWII and Nazis) with the mystical (magical powers emanating from the ten commandments) creates a veritably exhilarating dynamic unlike that found in Star Wars.  Both series are clearly successful in their ventures to gain a following as well as to tell a compelling action story, but Indiana Jones shows a different side of Lucas’ interests based in reality.  Not every film created by George Lucas has to be so ridiculous that only science fiction lovers can relate to it.

Indiana Jones as a character is one of the most impressive parts of Lucas’ creation.  He is far more complex than any of the Star Wars leads, including Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader, and Han Solo.  Those characters work so well together because they are each rather one dimensional, but as a team complete each other.  Indy can stand on his own against the likes of Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, the droids, and Princess Leia all wrapped together.  He represents many of their various characteristics, such as the wit of the droids, the cunning of Han Solo, and the unbridled bravery of Skywalker.  Sometimes watching Harrison Ford play Indiana Jones looks to me like George Lucas asked him to take all of his favorite traits of the heroes of Star Wars and try to make them into one.  Jones’ complicated history and personality make him stimulating enough to follow solo as opposed to as a part of a larger team that continues throughout all of his adventures.  Indy is not perfect though; Lucas explicitly includes the fact that our hero is scared of snakes to give him some type of weakness in a Superman/Clark Kent-esque vein.  Not only is this a form of expertly crafted comic relief, but also it makes Jones into a real person.  As much as Indiana Jones can feel like a James Bond type of character, he is flawed in a funny way that Bond lacks.  The various dimensions of Indiana Jones make him charismatic and enthusiastic, not like the dark shadows and undertones that seem to follow every step Bond and Skywalker take.

Marion’s first cinematic introduction to Indiana Jones is extremely revealing to our hero as a whole.  Lucas chooses to give our two romantic leads a past, but we are introduced to them as a couple long after their first meeting.  The scene in which they first interact with each other illustrates the damaging past they once had with each other and skips over the introductory scenes of romantic build-up that would usually occur in film.  Marion’s first words to Jones are, “Indiana Jones. I always knew some day you'd come walking back through my door. I never doubted that. Something made it inevitable.”  The on-screen tensions is automatic between Marion and Indy even though we have never seen them together as a pair before, and this is a truly difficult feeling to convey to an audience.  Lucas excels in portraying relationships between his characters whether it is platonic or overtly sexual.  This specific relationship works despite coming in directly in the middle of their conflict resolution because of the strong sexual tension they have.  It is not automatically romantic or harshly platonic, but the tension gives them space to grow together. 

In the end, Indy solves the mystery, survives, and gets the girl, but Lucas leaves the ending open for sequels to come.  We obviously know how successful the series ultimately becomes, but without this first installment none of the following films would have ever been conceivably possible.

Legend (1986)

As far as fantasy goes I’m usually a huge fan of the magic, mythical creatures, and battles between good and evil, but Legend takes Ridley Scott into a whole new realm of bizarre.  We are entered into a world where goblins rhyme by speaking in annoying riddles and the overly innocent princess falls for the unsung hero in the middle of an enchanted forest whose goodness relies on the life of unicorns.  It is a compilation of fantasy cliché after fantasy cliché, especially when you take into consideration that it was made in the 80s where everything was already overdone and taken to new extremes.  Maybe in a different time with a different commercial audience Legend could have been more commercially successfully, but even today it remains a film that is hard to digest due to all of its disparate odds and ends.

Some say that Legend has garnered a cult following since its release in 1986, but I continue to be skeptical of the film as a whole work.  It largely lacks a compelling plotline that captures its audience from beginning to end because none of the main characters sustain the transformation that is usually considered a prerequisite for a fantasy film.  Jack begins as the nature-bound force of good and reason that contrasts Princess Lili’s impulsive innocence, but in the end they are the same characters that have endured separate journeys and are enamored with each other.  I found it unusual that Lili, Jack, and Darkness never overcame any of their obstacles because Ridley Scott generally develops his characters full circle in his films up to this point.  In Blade Runner and in Alien both Ford and Weaver’s characters go on fantastic science fiction expeditions, but they also both end up becoming different, more well-rounded characters because of their difficulties and they make stark realizations about their own personalities.  The overall message to the film, that goodness and light cannot exist without evil and darkness, explores a lot of the same issues tackled by Lucas’ Star Wars but without much of the finesse and realness that Lucas somehow discovered through the most unrealistic conceptualization of actuality.  It wholly felt like a regurgitation of previously mastered fables and fairytales made into an unnecessary amalgamation of concepts.

Although the costuming in Legend has been remarked as one of the most the impressive ensembles of makeup and artistry the industry had seen thus far, I felt as though the extravagantness of the prosthetics and costumes took away from the actors’ abilities to accurately portray their characters.  Tim Curry’s Darkness could have been more menacing without the 3 foot horns attached to his head and his minions were expertly disguised as horrible, disgusting creatures but it was almost to the point that they became more difficult to comprehend and take seriously under the ridiculous circumstances they were already in. 

One scene in particular that I found rather off-putting was Jack’s revelation to Gump that it was his fault that Lili touched the unicorn, thus putting the whole mortal realm in danger of Darkness’ evil.  In the American version of Legend, which we watched in class, Jack immediately admits to his faults of leading Lili to the unicorns and Gump almost immediately forgives him because Jack claims he did it out of his undying love for her.  This explanation, for some reason, is enough for Gump to forgive Jack’s transgressions, but I found it rather badly explained and rushed for such an imperative character introduction and pivotal scene in the eyes of Jack.  Gump, the lead forest nymph, does not even question Jack’s explanation of love and it leads me to wonder what kind of idealized type of love the Americanized version of Legend is upholding.  I looked into the difference between the releases in the UK in 1985 as compared to the American release in 1986 and found that not only was this one scene altered, but also six whole minutes were cut from the European version to the American one and the entire soundtrack was switched for the electric pop of Tangerine Dream.  These are rather significant changes that can alter the entire mood and atmosphere of the film.  Love, for example, in this particular scene is depicted as all encompassing and as a justification for any transgression, no matter how large.  It validates the idea that one can use the excuse of “love” to accomplish or get away with anything; if you do it out of love it is ok.  Is this the type of message Ridley Scott really wanted to present?  According to his other films, possibly, but never quite so overt and crass as in Legend.  

Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

As far as the Star Wars series goes, Empire Strikes Back is remembered as one of the greats.  Between the fantastic scriptwriting, incredible special effects, and the development of a rich plotline that twists and turns at every corner it has earned this title and will continue to top classic sci-fi movie must-see lists.  The iconic fight scene and revelation of Darth Vader’s true identity as well as Lucas’ portrayal of the Force as it relates to each Jedi Knight makes it an epic sequel to the chronologically first installment of the series.

The fight scene between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker occurs towards the end of the film at Bespin and it is the ultimate example of good versus evil.  While Vader attempts to convince Luke to join the Dark Side we can see a clear transformation happening within Mark Hamill’s Luke as he leaves boyhood and enters the fearful world of Jedi Knight adulthood.  With Yoda as his newfound master, after losing the powerful Obi-Wan at the hand of Darth himself, Luke has found a new sense of confidence that the eager young boy from A New Hope never gained.  This rejuvenation of Luke’s personality serves a twofold purpose: one is to give him agency that he never discovered in the first film and the other is to symbolize Lucas’ own personal achievement.  It is pretty obvious how Luke gains agency between the Jedi training with the ever-so-wise Yoda, and it reaches a climax with his decision to abandon training in search of Han Solo and Leia.  The battle with Darth Vader is a mere extension of Luke’s growth as a character because he finally has the strength to confidently face the Darkness.  Of course, his newfound strength is tested with the revelation that Vader is, in fact, his father (a plot twist so juicy the line “No, I am your father” remains vivid in all minds) and Luke has to grapple with the fact that part of him might be inherently evil.  In typical Lucas fashion this raises an existential question of how much individuality we have from our family members, our parents in particular.  We can see the expression on Luke’s face change as he makes the decision to die rather than succumb to the Dark Side, although he predictably lives in the end. (How could Lucas make a trilogy without a protagonist?)  Luke’s growth can also represent Lucas as a filmmaker and his realization that Star Wars is so much bigger than himself and his own personal success.  It would be a fair assessment to look at Luke Skywalker as a mirror like reflection of George Lucas transforming from an amateur writer/producer into, arguably, one of the most revered film creators of all time.

The scenery and effects give away Empire Strikes Back as a successor to a previously extremely lucrative film because, unlike A New Hope, Lucas has the ability to set them on different planets within the galaxy and even make them appear different from each other or any realistic place existing on Earth.  He was able to hire the director he wanted, Irvin Kershner, and splurge on expanding the limits of this newest project Industrial Light & Magic (ILM).  He used bluescreen in order to achieve some of the special effects that were more complex, but it is still such a pleasure to watch Empire Strikes Back because the characters are still physical representations of themselves, like a puppet or a metal contraption.  Yoda would not be the same, and he is not the same in the prequels, if he is not a physical character that can interact with the actors on set.  Someone so wise and gracious as well as cunning and unassuming cannot be replaced by CGI versions of a puppet made of felt and wire.  We can clearly see the rawness of Empire Strikes Back, but with the refined, classical nature of a George Lucas creation.

This installment of the series has received one of the highest percent approval ratings of 97% on RottenTomatoes.com because there truly isn’t much to complain about.  Lucas sets up the end of Empire Strikes Back perfectly for another piece to the trilogy to take place and finally reveal what happens to the Imperials and the Rebel Alliance.  Who lives? Who dies? These are the cliffhangers that Lucas doesn’t get around to answering for his cosmo hungry film fanatics until 1983.

Blade Runner

Blade Runner explores Ridley Scott’s dark personality as he delves into the world of neo-noir and sci-fi all in one film.  Although these may seem like two extremely contrasting elements and themes to deal with in one work (and many critics from the 80s would agree), I believe Scott handled the blending of these two realms quite nicely in order to create a terrifying and morbid reflection of what the future could be like.  The film itself was not received nearly as well in 1982 when it was released as it is now, due to the cult following it has amassed, but the slight if not irregular recognition it got then has allowed Blade Runner to transform Scott’s career into the repertoire of work it is known as today.

We begin with an introduction to Los Angeles circa 2019, in the not so distant future now, and immediately see the noir elements of Scott’s vision appearing throughout the setting and motives of the characters.  It is a dark and rainy Los Angeles, not at all like the glitz and glamour we picture of the beloved modern Hollywood, yet obvious technological innovations set it apart as a retrofitted futuristic dystopian society.  An interview is in progress that culminates in a shooting and we see our first of four antagonists escape the grasp of the looming Tyrell Corporation.  In this scene we are introduced to the VK analyzer, which distinguishes human-like replicants from the real thing, by evaluating eye movements.  Replicants have been exiled from Earth and are almost indiscernible as different beings from humans, so Blade Runners are assigned to “retire” them from existence, a clear euphemism for killing but in less humanistic terms.  Deckard (another Harrison Ford protagonist) is the Blade Runner we follow as he hunts down the four escapees wishing to extend their immortal, yet not eternal, existence.  He ends up falling for a replicant himself, thus constructing the role of the femme fatale, another element of the film noir that pervades Blade Runner.  As the storyline develops we see the protagonist falling in love with Rachel the replicant, but I have to question whether Scott is attempting to symbolize the idea of “The heart wants what the heart wants” as in Romeo and Juliet, or does this in order to bring Deckard’s morals into question as in other classic noir films.  The protagonist cannot ever be flawless and falling for the one woman he could never truly attain seems like a good flaw for Scott to give Deckard.  He breaks the rules in order to be with her, but considering her lifespan is supposed to only be four years is it really worth it? I guess we’ll never know.

Another one of Scott’s focuses is the eye in relation to the framework of the gaze.  Consistently throughout the film, due to camera angles, repetitive imagery, and character interaction, we see the eyes as one of Scott’s symbols for the human soul.  Replicants cannot have mortal souls, therefore it is through the eyes, or the windows to the soul, that we are able to distinguish a replicant from a living, breathing human.  As previously mentioned we are introduced to this concept through the VK analyzer, but the eyes are twice targeted as the means to kill an enemy, and tears are referenced more than once.  When Leon tries to stab Deckard through the eyes unsuccessfully and Roy Batty (lead replicant) successfully murders his creator through the same means it is not a far leap to make that Scott sees the eyes as significant indicators of humanistic qualities.  It is actually rather ironic that this is the way that Roy decides to kill Tyrell in the end because Tyrell is the leader of the omnipresent corporation keeping tabs on each replicant, thus creating the paranoia the replicants feel towards Earth and humans.  Much like Hitchock’s Rear Window we gain a sense of voyeurism created through the Tyrell Corporation as well as the fact that it appears police officers are around every corner constantly watching every move both replicants and humans make.  Every character we follow is always looking over their shoulder to see who will be coming after them next.

Philip K. Dick’s influence is also not lost on this Scott creation that is said to be an adaptation of one of his short novels.  We can easily see elements of implanted memories, off-world colonies, and ambiguous endings that are reminiscent of later Dick creations like Total Recall.  In the end when Deckard rides off with Rachel can we determine whether or not he is truly human or replicant? This is the eternal question that Scott has answered with a definite “replicant” but a strong argument could also be made for the former.

Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

In Star Wars: A New Hope we see Lucas really beginning to come into his own.  It is often said that a writer/director/producer’s third piece is their finest, “third time’s a charm,” and Lucas proves this to be accurate through his intense exploration of the cosmos.  Star Wars, of course has garnered much attention over the years and is now a cult classic that has inspired the sci-fi genre to push the limits of cinematography.  The intense following that Star Wars gained remains one of the most impressive fan bases of any film series paralleling contemporary series like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. A New Hope marks the dawn of an era, an era many wish had ended with Return of the Jedi, but still acted as a catalyst for Lucas’ prolific career. 

One of my favorite scenes from this episode in the Star Wars trilogy features C-3PO and R2D2, two droids with the emotional intelligence of humans, and Obi-Wan Kenobi with Luke Skywalker.  In this scene at the capital of Tatooine Imperial troopers are looking for C-3PO and R2D2, but Obi-Wan utilizes “The Force” to convince them they are not the notorious droids they’re looking for.  The Force is clearly one of the most significant pieces of the Star Wars puzzle in that it ties all of the episodes together as well as providing a connection between the Dark side and the Good side.  Star Wars is, after all, a battle between good and evil. The Force is the connection between all of the Jedi Knights, described as that which “surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together."  I find this scene particularly meaningful because it immediately follows Luke’s decision to train to become a Jedi Knight.  Obi-Wan’s successful use of the Force against Imperial powers proves to Luke just how influential he can be on those around him, and ultimately leads to how integral a piece Luke becomes to saving the galaxy.  Between Obi-Wan and Han Solo (yet to be introduced at this point) Luke’s character fully develops, so facilitating and solidifying Obi-Wan Kenobi’s relationship with Luke is essential to the development of our hero. 

The droids’ as characters also add so much to the development of Lucas’ argument about technology as a necessary innovation, but one that should be considered with great hesitation.  The machines in almost all of his films are either controlled by humans or controlling the humans.  In C-3PO and R2D2’s cases they are neither controlled by or controlling humans, rather they are portrayed as humans with a sense of humor and emotional attachments to each other. Their close relationships with each other and the humans they come to love and protect are evident from the first time they are introduced to Luke Skywalker when C-3PO says, “And I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart, R2D2.”  The mere fact that C-3PO’s function as a droid is to facilitate robots as they relate to humans, whether it is translating for R2D2, providing the perfect one-liner for comic relief, or making good judgment of moral character (as he so often does), accentuates their purpose as more than mechanical beings in the films.  They are a blending of the technological advancements and human creations that Lucas tends to exploit throughout the rest of the Star Wars series, but not all of the technology in A New Hope is so forgiving.  The Death Star itself is exemplary of the complex labyrinth that technology can become when left unrestrained.  It is the ultimate model of man pushing the limits of technological modernization to extremes because Darth Vader and the Galactic Empire are aiming for supreme domination over the galaxy.  The Rebel Alliance, therefore, combats these efforts and represents the constraints humans necessarily place on mechanisms in order to have control over them. 

Lucas himself acted as a role model for technology as it relates to film in that he utilized revolutionary techniques that are still useful in contemporary filmmaking.  This movie pushed him to create Industrial Light & Magic where many cinematographers have yearned to work since its inception in 1975.  He began using a method known as motion control photography, which allowed him to design most of the special effects that set Star Wars apart from other sci-fi films of this generation.  The complex plotline of the story trails Lucas’ creative journey after the release of THX 1138 and American Graffiti, two totally opposite ends of the allegorical spectrum, and leaves Star Wars at an in between ground where societal messages are conveyed, but are light-years more digestible than either of his previous works.