Saturday, September 17, 2011
Because He IS Batman, You Moron!!!
Sometimes I write semi-scholarly short essays in which I try to find the intersection between academia and real human experience and sometimes I make these.
My first Meme. Be gentle.
Monday, September 12, 2011
How My Heart Behaves: Some Thoughts on Robocop
The question of our humanity—how to find it,
safe guard it, lose it, redeem it—I think, is the ultimate purpose of
storytelling. At the root of it we
consume stories, yes, to be entertained by the proceedings, but also to be
nourished spiritually. Whether that be
through a reinforcement of morals and ideals, a cathartic release, a vicarious experience
of watching the fantastic, unlikely or uncanny, the method of delivery for that
nourishment depend both on the story in question and your predilections at that
moment. But that desire to be enriched,
it is always there. Art and storytelling
allow us to examine themes and aspects of ourselves that might otherwise go
unexplored.
I’ve put a lot of thought into this and I’m
(almost) always serious when I talk about movies. Hence, when I say without hyperbole that Robocop
is the greatest science-fiction movie I’ve ever seen—I mean it. More so than any other science-fiction film
it begs that question: What does it fundamentally mean to be human? And more so than any other film of its kind,
when I watch it I feel better.
Stronger. Faster. Harder.
Most people hear the word Robocop and then the phrase “greatest sci-fi
film of all time” and immediately tune out.
“Robocop? That’s just a
mindless action movie!” But if you hear
me out I’m hoping you will at least see my point of view, even if you are not
completely convinced by the argument.
First and foremost, let’s be clear about
qualifying it as an action movie rather than a science-fiction movie. There are really only three-ish action scenes
it that are noteworthy and I feel by other “action” movie standards it’s really
not consistent. Yes, there is violence
in it. And, yes, the violence, when it
appears, is quite extreme (especially, if you’re watching the director’s
cut—which I always recommend for this film).
But while the violence in it is intense, it really isn’t protracted and
it is certainly not frivolous. It’s
punctuation to a scene, but not really the point of the movie. You have primarily: 1. The scene where
Robocop busts (destroys) a drug lab and arrests Boddicker. 2. The ending, where Boddicker’s gang blows
up half an abandoned iron foundry trying to kill Robocop and 3. The scene where
ED-209 shoots Robocop a lot and he stumbles down the hallway to escape, only to
find himself in the parking lot at the mercy of the police who also shoot him a
lot since they have orders to “shoot to destroy” (getting shot at a lot and
limping your way to an escape doesn’t exactly strike me as “epic action”, but
I’m including the last one because there certainly are a lot of bullets
spent). Aside from that, Robocop punches
a bad guy or two, fires a few other shots, but it’s all so quick that the
action is over within a few seconds.
This isn’t an action flick with elements of
sci-fi. If so, I think by my highlights
section above you could consider it one of the laziest action films ever
produced. If anything, this is a
science-fiction film that incorporates violence in order to further the
story. Not the other way around.
Now, I’ve said this numerous times before
and I think it’s worth mentioning again here considering the topic, but I think
violence for the sake of violence is lazy, flaccid storytelling. It adds nothing to a plot. Robocop does have moments of
ultra-violence, but it is always to serve a purpose. Filming mindless violence does nothing but
expose the sadistic nature of the film-maker and the audience who willingly
buys into such a production. Or, to
sort of appropriate another literary idea: If Ensign Chekov shows up
unexpectedly with a phaser drawn and doesn’t shoot it before the episode is
over, I’m going to wonder why he was in that scene at all. In good storytelling, if it doesn’t serve a
purpose, then you should cut it. It doesn't matter if it is dialogue, settings or gunfights & explosions, if it fails to propel the
narrative forward, then it is dead weight.
********
While the film is directly about the
reestablishment of one man’s lost identity, I think in a broader sense you
could make the argument that it is also about the assertion of our collective
identity and worth. Time and time again,
Omni Consumer Products (OCP) manipulates local events for their gain
and
considers people’s lives a commodity.
When the young executive is turned into hamburger meat at the ED-209
unveiling, it’s “a glitch”. The Old Man
is pissed because they might lose up to 50 million dollars in interest
payments. And Bob Morton leaves that
meeting without a second glance for his friend that was killed that he was talking to just moments before.
The privatization of the police is a
calculated move on the corporation’s part so that they can mismanage it enough to force a police strike, creating a
platform for their new security products.
Never mind the city that is tearing itself apart with crime or the
officers who fell in the line of duty from this negligence (which OCP later capitalizes on as a pool
of “volunteers” for their Robocop project).
It’s chaos, carefully cultivated and orchestrated, so that when they tell
the populace they have the solution and it’s called DELTA CITY everyone will
jump at it.
At times, I too feel like a mere
statistic. An employee number; a figure
to be quoted in an article about my lost, jobless generation; a license and registration;
but not always a person. You can call it
cliché, but the real bad guy here is Big Business, with too much power and no
supervision. I think the social comment
is, "Watch out before they turn us all into machines".
The promise of a better future is a grim irony here. With enough violent crime, OCP can get the support it needs to finish its project. |
And here is Robocop. Our dilemma of fighting the system gets
played out by his actions.
Dick Jones calls him a thing. He’s a product. The clandestine Directive 4, Dick Jones
reveals, was added by him. It’s a
program inserted into Robocop’s mind that prevents him from acting against an
officer of the corporation. After being
told time and time again that he is property and replaceable, even programmable
to do things against his own wishes, what happens during this confrontation
between the two? I think it’s one of the
film’s most important moments. Robocop
is shot and part of his visor is broken off.
Remember your classical art studies—what do the eyes represent? They are windows to the soul. And here you have Robocop at his weakest
moment since being turned on, literally knocked to his knees, and he is
revealed to be—still in the end—a man.
********
Every good movie, in my opinion, has a heart
to it. There is a central moment that
anchors all of the proceedings, and from that place all of the ideas
unfurl. With Rushmore, as I’ve
said before, it’s the moment where Ms. Cross takes off Max’s glasses and sees
him for the man he might be. In Return
of the Jedi, in fact for the whole original trilogy, it is the moment where
Vader looks upon his son moments from dying at the hands of the Emperor, the
good and the evil aspects of his life, and he chooses to save the former. With Robocop it is the scene where he
returns home.
In his remembrances he is always leaving
home, but when he reclaims his memories after becoming Robocop he finally has
the chance to return. The house,
naturally, is empty. The detritus of his
old life lay scattered about, too painful for his wife to keep—their potted
plants withering away, A World Class Husband mug, some recent Polaroids (burned
in a hurry because they didn’t want to keep them), a sink full of flowers. Each room he enters awakens a new memory and
this process is a revelation to us watching.
Throughout the movie we have seen brief glimpses of Murphy’s family
life, but his homecoming scene is the most complete and sustained recollection
of the life he once had. Because of this
story construction, the scope of what has befallen him dawns on him and us
simultaneously. His wife was madly in
love with him. His son seemed bright,
young and happy. They were a perfectly
adjusted, suburban, happy family. Now we
understand what he had and what he had taken away. Beyond the loss of his own life, we see some
of the effect it had on his wife and son.
That house was a pain they couldn’t escape fast enough.
Robocop’s body language is very consistent
throughout the movie, but in this one moment it changes. It almost seems like Murphy is trying to
break free of the armor, of the Robocop persona, of the situation. That brief instance before he smashes the
monitor, he looks like he cannot contain himself. It’s an all too human reaction when faced
with outrage.
With an awful clarity, his desire for
justice comes into focus. It wasn’t just
his body Boddicker and his gang destroyed, it was his whole family too. Which, in a way brings me front and center to
the primary reason why I find myself so fascinated with this movie: It seems to
say that no amount of science, magic or alchemy can ever occlude the human
spirit, our dedication to those we love, or our basic need to be revenged. His corporeal self was annihilated. His life was painfully taken from him. And when he was resurrected his memory was
erased and his personality stolen and reprogrammed from the bottom up. He was no longer Murphy, he was a just a
shell, branded by OCP and told how to act.
But piece by piece that construct sloughs itself off as his original
self resurfaces. By the film’s end he is
no longer the man he began as, but is certainly no longer the cyborg the
company thought they had constructed.
That human spark that is in all of us could not be smothered; it
smoldered and eventually caught aflame again.
That to me is a truly remarkable idea, both inspiring and
comforting. We are more than flesh and
synapses. Even if it is not necessarily
true, I want to believe it.
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