BRainSplat Movie Reviews
Note: More than anything, this post is merely an insight into how my brain works. (Take the movie reviews seriously.)
As I made myself comfortable in my seat on my Seoul, South Korea-bound flight a couple of hours ago, I decided to watch a movie. This wouldn’t be particularly noteworthy if not for a few reasons.
Firstly, I rarely watch movies or television (no, not even Netflix.) This is somewhat peculiar, as I once aspired to be filmmaker, and later, a film critic. However, my short attention span and my hyperactive, mildly debauched lifestyle has since made propping myself in front of a screen for a couple hours increasingly unappealing.
Nevertheless, I had a rollicking night of raunchy dubstep last night and got little sleep. Though I typically take these long flights as opportunities to read and write as much as possible, none of that was going to happen as my body, and mind, busied itself with recovery.
As my plane took off, I turned on the monitor in front of me, and decided to see what Korea Air had to offer me. To my delight, I saw Bridge of Spies, if only happy to see Tom Hanks’ face. A Steven Spielberg-directed picture, I was eager to see what the duo cooked up, despite not having heard much about the movie.
To be honest, the film was touching but intellectually vapid. Historically speaking, this was one of the tensest moments of the Cold War — the Russians had downed an American U2 reconnaissance plane and captured its pilot. The United States government held a Soviet spy. While this should have made for great cinema, the drama fell short. There was no true build up; it was more similar to a highlight reel of important moments. I’m just glad I didn’t know the Coen Brothers had written the screenplay going into it, as I would have been doubly as disappointed (as I am now.)
For all of the movie’s cinematic shortcomings, however, it drew out very raw emotions in me and forced me to confront some ideas that have been whirling around mind recently.
I try my best to avoid being publicly political beyond the occasional tweet or Facebook status/comment. Yet I was touched by the experience of Tom Hanks’ character, a noted New York attorney in the middle of the last century. Members of the public vilify him, after he is asked by the Bar Association to legally represent an accused (and clearly guilty) Soviet spy (a phenomenal Mark Rylance.) Even the judge struggles to be objective in the case. Yet Hanks’ character, based on the real life James B. Donovan, is nothing short of upstanding in defending his client’s rights as bestowed to him by the Constitution, fully recognizing attorney-client privilege, despite pressure by the CIA.
Although I do not know if this was meant to be an allegory for contemporary America (I wouldn’t put it past the Coens), it certainly felt like it. The comparisons are striking:
Americans demanded the hanging of a Soviet spy, with or without a fair trial, because communism had to be stopped. Today, Republican governors and congressmen across this great nation, are demanding that we stop accepting Syrian refugees, because terrorism must be stopped. Donald Trump went as far as to suggest (and then rescinded) a database for all Muslims in America.
The real issue with these solutions is that they are entirely orthogonal to the problem they are trying to solve. Hanging a spy doesn’t end communism, and without a fair trial, it doesn’t ensure justice. In fact, it makes our democracy no superior than the form of governance we so dearly claimed to hate.
When we turn our back on war refugees from Syria, we don’t prevent terrorism, and we don’t make America safer. Yet, we do, consequently, turn our back on this nation’s formative virtues: acceptance, liberty, and a haven for those seeking a better life or refuge. Donald Trump’s political ascendancy is not dissimilar to that of many fascists or dictators.
But more on that later: I watched another movie.
My inspiration from Bridge of Spies quickly dwindled unfortunately. (The second half of the flick derailed further into classic Spielberg-esque Hollywood drama bullshit and by the time I started writing, my body began to remember how exhausted it was.) So close my laptop having completed the large paragraph above this. Then I slept. Sort of. (I’m physically incapable of “napping”, but a couple of mini-bottles of airplane wine let me enter a restful, pseudo-dream state.)
Instead of returning to this piece, I watched another early Cold War-themed spy thriller (because, apparently, that’s what Koreans are into?) This film, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., was absolutely fantastic.
Imagine if Quentin Tarantino and Wes Anderson had an abandoned lovechild raised only on James Bond and Jason Bourne movies, and a shitty, dubbed version of The Italian Job.
What you get is a smart, kitschy action film with great dialogue, lots of explosions, and a plot that you keeps you on your toes. In summary: it was exactly what I needed to kickstart the second leg of this twelve-hour flight.
It did not, however, inspire me to wax poetic about contemporary politics, nor philosophy.
Instead, I am not going to edit this piece, and allow you to have a glimpse into the tangled circuitry that is my brain.
Summary: Bridge of Spies is disappointing given the caliber of everyone involved, but worth a watch if not merely for the historical significance and limited entertainment value. It also reminded me of how fucked up our country can be, particularly if it gives way to populism, and why, as Plato exhorted in The Republic, “The price good men pay for indifference to public affairs is to be ruled by evil men.” (Too significant of a matter to write in an artificially darkened airplane.) As opposed to the aforementioned film, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. is a spy thriller classic with a novel approach to the genre that will inevitably lead to shitty sequels (assuming it performed well in theaters.) Lastly, I use a buttload of parenthetical statements in early drafts of my writing.
Welcome to my brain.
