Hot Fuzz and Ethics, or How To Ruin a Film With Over-analysis
The film is so well written, its no surprise it can also show us how to live a good life.
One of the key personality traits of protagonist Nicholas Angel in 2007’s Hot Fuzz, is that he is unable to “turn that melon off”, as one character puts it. Angel demonstrates that he is the opposite of the cliched loner police officer found in many Hollywood cop action thrillers. He is a by-the-book paper pusher, procedural literalist and stays within the confines of the law.
But Hot Fuzz has more to say than mere peculiarities and love for paperwork would suggest. It’s a comedy, of course, but it joins fellow cop movies in discussing at its core two opposing ethical theories; deontology and utilitarianism.
At one point Angel coaxes an apology out of a speeding motorist using only a pen and paper. This scene is indicative of Angle’s entire ethical disposition, as well as the disposition of the ‘service’. That is, procedural, communicative and non-violent. This is subversive to the action movies that Hot Fuzz parodies and Angel’s partner, Danny Butterman, idolises. In particular, the story of ‘loner’ cops enforcing the law at their will, often violently, with a shoot-first ask questions later approach.
Angel’s moral beliefs are clear from his entry into Sandford. He’s a deontologist, meaning that the moral actions he takes are those that are right in and of themselves, rather than due to their consequences.
The film represents this throughout but establishes it initially in the pub, where Angel notices that most of the other patrons are teenagers and not allowed to consume alcohol.
With the knowledge that this is against the law Angel proceeds to kick the underage drinkers out, angering the owners. They claim that whilst some might be underage (“a month or two south of proper”), their drinking was for the greater good and that the consequences would have been worse if they were outside “…stealing traffic cones.”
Angel is the contrast to many of the townspeople, who operate according to a utilitarian ethical framework, which is summarised with the non-coincidental phrase that the film’s antagonists repeat “the greater good”. That is, they justify their actions according to their consequences.
Angel disagrees with the owners, noting that it is illegal to serve alcohol to those under the age of 18. It’s not that Angel disagrees that keeping teenagers off the streets is a bad thing, a point the film concedes as he later arrests many of those same teenagers. But his overriding ethical outlook is that it is wrong, in and of itself, to serve these teenagers alcohol, regardless of the consequences.
In this respect, the utilitarian philosophy that is the guiding principle the village adheres to does have some use. Yet it’s important to concede that the fear of missing traffic cones is as petty as winning the Village of the Year Award, which motivates the Neighborhood Watch Alliance (NWA) to commit horrible murders.
This scene and the reasoning both sides demonstrate in the pub foreshadows the last half of the film in which Angel confronts the NWA and they justify their actions according to the already familiar utilitarian logic, which is that the ends justify the means.
The pub scene and the confrontation of the NWA show that the film’s concern is a battle between good and bad, like many films of the same genre. But, the film subverts this duality by changing the methods employed by Angel and the good guys from the utilitarianism that is exhibited in films of this genre, like Bad Boys II, to a deontological framework.
This is an especially interesting take on films of this genre because usually, the protagonists in cop films do not merely employ a utilitarian logic, but that logic is set against a backdrop of a police force engrossed in wasteful procedure and bureaucracy.
Angel celebrates this bureaucracy throughout the film, by ‘locking and loading’ his two pens in response to one officer being low on ink. Later on, Angel suggests that his notebook is the most powerful tool in his arsenal, a comment that justifies itself after Angel stages his death.
The loner trope is further subverted by appealing to the strength of teamwork. Though outsider status and not belonging amongst colleagues is common in cop films, Angel attempts to use his team throughout the film. Though the film twists this cliche because it does not portray Angel is an inherent loner, but as an individual pushed from the group. Angel manages, in the end, to convince his team that he is correct and his team, rather than Angel and his partner, assault the supermarket. Compare this to the norm, where an individual or partnership takes on the bad guys, only for the team to show up at the end, beholden to the genius of the loners.
Further, Angel appeals to authority and the chain of command throughout the film, the proper way of doing things. When protesting his relocation to Sandford, Angel appeals to a chain of increasingly senior officers. And after Danny’s arrest during the first act, Angel appeals to the most senior officer, Danny’s father, to punish him appropriately. Hot Fuzz follows in the footsteps of Bad Boys II and sows distrust in authority and chain of command.
The traditional approach in many cop films is a disregard of authority and procedure in pursuit of a thorough individualism, that is usually vindicated by the end of the film. Angel’s protests are demonstrated as being in vain not only at the beginning of the film where he is forcibly relocated but also at the end where he finds satisfaction in his new role and decides to stay. This suggests that the authority that placed him in Sandford was correct. So the film finishes with an appreciation for authority and the chain of command.
The officers show their faith in procedure at the end of the film. After the arrest of the members of the NWA, Angel and his fellow officers sit down to complete the necessary paperwork afterwards.
Lastly, I want to talk in more detail and how the film portrays these ethical theories and how other cop films differ.
When one looks at the utilitarian reasoning in Hot Fuzz, it seems petty. After all, the villagers permit underage drinking on the grounds that it prevents the loss of traffic cones. People are murdered because they put at risk the Village of the Year Award. Serious crimes are committed in pursuit of lesser and inconsequential goals.
In this respect, utilitarianism appears to be parodied to the point where the competition between itself and deontology is no competition at all. The good guys are obviously good and the bad guys are obviously bad. This at first seems simplistic, until one realises it is yet another trope used in other cop films.
As mentioned earlier, Bad Boys II portrays itself as a fight between utilitarianism, in this case, the good guys, and deontology, the corrupt and hapless police force from which they are usually from. Incidentally, it’s worth noting that the fight in Bad Boys II is, on the surface, between the protagonists and a series of drug lords. Though further analysis suggests that, within many of the films of this genre, this is a sideshow and that the protagonists are fundamentally fighting against faceless bureaucracy and needless procedure that the police force represent.
In the subtext of cop films, the justifications of procedure are not grasped. Instead, the portrayal of the utilitarianism appears as essentially correct. It’s worth noting also that Bad Boys II acknowledges its utilitarian, extra-judicial methods in its title.
The protagonists and their utilitarianism are rough around the edges but better than inefficient bureaucracy. This owes more to American distrust of government and institutions than an ethical commitment per se.
So, by swapping ethical theories, Hot Fuzz subverts the familiar trope of the lone wolf, but only so far as it justifies one theory over another. It still portrays the opposing theory as wrong and caricatures its portrayal, true to the spirit of the genre.
Hot Fuzz is a clever film and there exist a multitude of analyses possible. Each scene has such depth that one cannot separate between reference and coincidence without several viewings.
In fact, each installment in The Cornetto Trilogy references another. The acknowledgement of the ethical theories displayed throughout cop films and their following subversion for me justifies an analysis of this film, even eleven years after its release.
On the face of it, Hot Fuzz is a silly comedy with some good jokes. But delving deeper into the film reveals the talent of the writers not immediately obvious and warrants such a gross over-analysis as this.
