Swiss Army Man — We Are Always Biased in Art
Written 10/23/16
It’s interesting being twenty-three. I’m right about everything, but what “right” is seems to change by the day. For example, only last week I wrote my review of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. In that review I said something about SVU being “underappreciated”, which wasn’t a lie — when I wrote those words, in my opinion, they were correct. Since writing that I’ve been listening more intently to the opinion of SVU and my goodness, everyone watches it! I knew everyone had seen it in hotel rooms or in the background during game night, but everyone watches it like I do, binging it on Hulu or Netflix. I wasn’t wrong when I wrote what I wrote, I just hadn’t been in the right place to be focusing so closely on the public opinion of that particular ancient network television series. Perhaps if I hadn’t written those words I never would have opened my eyes and my perception of “right” on that topic never would have changed. I’m finding it especially interesting these days to watch what I watch, to pay attention to what I pay attention to. In any art form, but let’s use film for a change, there are endless possible meanings to be gleaned from every project. Art doesn’t become three dimensional in its message until the audience plops all of their baggage on it. I gave The Light Between Oceans one of the worst reviews I’ve ever written, but what if I had ever lost a child? What if I was once in the army and couldn’t connect emotionally because of it? Or, what if any of the other millions of minute moments throughout that film sparked something personal within me. It didn’t, so I didn’t like it (and the production value didn’t make up for it, etc., etc.). My point is, we can never trust our own perception, because very few of us are enlightened enough to know the entire makeup of each of our thoughts and emotions, and something tells me the people who are that enlightened aren’t watching much television.
When I watch a film like Swiss Army Man after coming to this conclusion, I feel torn. Did I love it because it was good? Or did I love it because of where I am in my life at this exact moment? There were many red flags. I didn’t like the ending. I understand that killing the magic was important, but I didn’t think it was important to bring it back. Either keep the magic or don’t, but taking it away just to throw in an awkward “real world” scene, then to continue with “oh, never mind, his farts are still fantastical” felt a bit wishy washy. Either make Hank crazy, or make Manny magic, it can’t really be both ways. If they were going for an underlying meaning with the post-wilderness section, then more clarity is required. Obscure metaphor is fine as long as the scene can survive without it.
Some of the dialogue felt forced. Many of the conclusions were made crystal clear by the no-nonsense narration of Paul Dano. It worked for the film within itself; this style of interaction was consistent throughout the story which lessened the jarring feeling of having human conditions laid out in front of me like a picture book, but I think it could have been done a little better all the same. What this did accomplish was painting a gross, bizarre setting with a bit of cuteness. Every time an obvious point was made my mouth would curve into a tiny, appreciative smile even as my brain was criticizing the level of transparency. Of course it’s hard to look at this dialogue in the usual way, because one half of each conversation was a re-animated dead man with no memory of life. That setup pretty much gives the creators license to do whatever the hell they want, which I’m sure was part of the appeal of this idea.
And oh my god was this idea beautiful. I was seething with jealousy as I watched. I felt like I could pull back the screen and look into a conference room where Daniels and Daniels sit, writing down ideas and just giggling. What an idea! Talk about something fresh, and to pull freshness from a corpse is a feat that I applaud.
Let’s talk about that corpse for a second. Hats off to Daniel Radcliffe. What a trooper. He was rolled, dragged, pushed, dropped, and that’s all before adding wires and props and CGI, and through all of the absolute ridiculousness he was completely believable. How do you even cast for that role? It’s not like you can ask your applicants “what experience do you have playing a sympathetic, re-animated dead guy obsessed with finding love?” But however they found him, this casting choice was pure gold. I loved the voice, I loved the movement, I loved the personality, I loved the humor. A+ to Daniel Radcliffe.
Swiss Army Man brought me joy and so much inspiration, but I’m still hesitant to give all the credit to the film itself. I’m a twenty-three year old director wannabe who works at a dental lab, writes reviews occasionally, and has made one short film. What if last night I was just in a head space that required inspiration? What if Swiss Army Man could have been any semi decent film and all I needed was something to believe in? Can we ever really trust our judgment of others work if we’re constantly plagued by our ever changing mental state? How can any of you trust my judgment if you don’t know exactly why I feel that way? All reviewers lay out why someone would see a film as they do, why intelligent human beings might love or hate a film, but I’m always curious as to why that specific reviewer loved that film. What’s happened in his life that makes him a huge fan of Marvel, or what’s haunting him to cause a tear-down of Tim Burton (we’ll talk about the travesty of Tim Burton later…I have many thoughts)?
Each of us are audience members, whether you’re a fifteen year old girl out on a first date going to a movie you barely watch, or a professional film critic sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for an opinion to surface. Those two very different people give a film life. That girl will forever associate that film with puppy love and hormones, and that critic will place whatever emotions he walked into the theater with on his experience no matter how hard he tries to be objective. Swiss Army Man came to me at a time of waiting; waiting for my life to really begin. So whether I like it or not I watched it with a head full of pent up passion and bored frustration, and I will always associate it with my tiny one bedroom in Corvallis, Oregon and a feeling of discontent. Does that mean I can’t write a good review? Of course not. But my review is going to be different than someone working at Empire Magazine who saw Swiss Army Man at Sundance surrounded by film people. Neither of us will necessarily be better or worse (well, Empire Magazine dude probably has a journalism degree and years of experience, so that might give him an edge), but both of our ideas are essential because we’re coming from completely different perspectives. So please, please read multiple reviews. Read all the reviews. We reviewers are desperate for attention. If you go out and find three more reviews that all say that Swiss Army Man had a disappointing ending, then maybe we can assume that that opinion is “right”. If I’m the only one, maybe my mind is just craving a story with a perfect ending and that’s made me overly critical.
Rambling psychology aside, Swiss Army Man is a charming, completely unique bromance that I would suggest without hesitation. I would watch it again in any head-space.
Rating: Good. In my top 20 of 2016.
Good
16) Miss Stevens
17) La La Land
18) Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
19) Swiss Army Man
20) A Monster Calls
21) Loving
