The Brothers Bloom

Light spoilers for the Brothers Bloom to follow.

Most of the time you are not aware of when you have an important moment in your life. Usually you just sorta walk into it, the thing happens, and then it's years later and you realized that small moment had defined practically every moment of your existence since then. It's like realizing that you've been hearing an echo of a song this entire time, and when you finally realize what had happened you can never unhear that song, in everything. Lyrics start lining up, you start hearing the tune in your head at points where you really need it to... and then all of a sudden that thing is just you. You absorbed it. You are more than you. And so is it. That moment is given a form of sentience and awareness that it would not have without you. And you are a more full and complete person because of that moment. It's a pretty awesome thing.

Yeah, the Brothers Bloom was never like that.

I knew, right from the opening frames, that it would never leave me.

It's ten years later.

It still hasn't.

The main character, Bloom, is someone I just get. It would take a few years before I met another character who I would identify with more than him, Tomoya Okazaki from Clannad, but Tomoya is more like looking in the mirror and seeing your shadow staring back, beaten, bloody, and screaming at you for ignoring him for so long, than that incredibly close friend that you just hadn't seen in awhile.

Bloom was a warm-up to that very uncomfortable, ongoing, conversation.

Morally speaking, Bloom is the antagonist of the film. He wants to destroy his own life, literally. He hates himself, just out and out, showing all the classic signs of a rape victim. And yet he wants more? Maybe? Possibly? But how does one get out of that rut? How can you start to like yourself enough to crawl out? Most of my life I was taught that some form of self-acceptance was necessary in order to evolve. If you don't like yourself how can you let yourself heal?

That, for the record, is the biggest line of bullshit I've ever been force fed, and the sooner people stop trying to preach "self-acceptance" and "See me as I see you" and all that nonsense, the better. Because as the movie shows, that just simply doesn't work. I mean, sure, you start to do that very thing I just called nonsense, but that's certainly not what starts that starts the ball rolling. That would be love, in point of fact, that allows you to move outside yourself.

Enter Stephen, the actual protagonist of the story. He's the one concerned about his little brother, Bloom, not Bloom. Stephen seems more or less OK with being an amoral con artist, but the little boy he's spent his entire life trying to protect is wilting right in front of him, and that means the acceptance that he's been looking for his whole life dies too. Telling Bloom the truth seems to be utterly unhelpful, so Stephen does the only thing he's good at: he devises a con.

And then there's Penelope, whose smile is like the sun, which all men need, not just the ones who are living in the shadows. It is almost impossible to imagine another actress in the role, Rachel Weisz handles it so well. Even now I can't pretend to know how the character exists.  There's so many open contradictions in Penelope: kind and sweet, yet a thief, enlightened and yet incredibly physical, she's someone that Bloom cannot figure out. Which is why Stephen picked her.

The previous blog entries in this series had stated that Rian Johnson has a pretty simple structure: set up a brunette and two white dudes and play them off each other. The Brothers Bloom is the only one where the main character is out and out in the wrong. He is out to destroy his own life, and everyone else is out to stop him. Stephen and Penelope grab Bloom, an arm apiece, and drag him out of his little hell, kicking and screaming, one bloody and battered inch at a time. The two of them just relentlessly love Bloom, and he finds that he loves them back.  And so you watch as his defenses crack against the impossible barrage that his brilliant brother has set against him, forcing him to see light between the cracks in his armor, opening him up little bit by little bit...

I do not care what anyone says. There is no way to know if Stephen died in the end. He's too smart to leave such an obvious plot hole, and given that just about every thing that happens in this movie could have orchestrated by him... it's hard to say the ending wasn't either. There's just too much intentional air-tight imagery going on.

To this day I don't know what happened to Stephen.

Yes, I still think about him.

And wonder what he did.

Isn't what art's supposed to do? Stay with you, always?

Well, Stephen is the one who wound up staying with me. Weird, manipulative, bullish, brilliant Stephen.

Not Bloom.

Funny how that works.

Brick

Yes, there are spoilers for Brick. This is analysis. If you haven't seen the movie yet demand to keep reading that's on you.

Brick was not the first Rian Johnson movie that I watched (that honor goes to The Brothers' Bloom, courtesy of my father). It is, however, my favorite, as it is the hardest hitting of Johnson's movies. While the rest of his movies refuse to back down on showing people in all their messed up glory. This is where the triangle (brunette and two white dudes) mentioned in Knives Out begins, in its most brutal manifestation. This is not a movie for those who have a weak moral stomach, or who want to find someone to blame. Because, in the end, everyone is to blame, which means that no one is.

For those of you who don't know, Brick follows the story of Brendan, who is trying to find  out what happened to his ex-girlfriend, Emily, who called him on a payphone, babbling nonsense. The only thing that Brendan can really make out are the words "Tug" and "Brick" (along with a few others, but the movie covers those). The rest of the movie is a descent into the underworld of his highschool to find her and try to redeem her, to the best of his ability.

Brendan is the most tragic of Johnson's protagonists. There are more conflicting drives in this guy than a trio of other protagonists. He wants to keep people from hurting those he loves, but also wants to get revenge. He thinks he cares about Emily, but his constant need to control her drives her away and starts this whole series of events. Brendan is partly to blame for Emily's plight. I mean, sure, he didn't make her get in trouble, but if people think they're not responsible for the environment they create for others to make choices in I've got swampland in Florida for you!

C'mon, it's a good deal! People make their decisions in a vacuum, this is a good deal!

No, Brendan's hands are not clean. I think he knows it, too. The line between loving Emily and controlling her are pretty thing, and maybe he has left is to check up on her to make sure she's OK? It's hard to tell. But Brendan's anger gets in the way of everything he does, especially the end, when he is finally confronted with what he actually and truly is. The definition of tragedy, far as I'm concerned, is to struggle with one's fate. And Brendan cannot accept what he was told. And that is tragic.

Laura is the only antagonistic brunette that Johnson has ever devised. And even then, she's shown in as fair of a light as someone can show an evil manipulative puppet master. She's played with such vulnerability, such brutal honesty, that I just can't help feel sorry for her own position. Yes, she's consumed by her own greed and lust for power, but she is consumed by her flaws, the same as Pin, Tug, Brendan, and everyone else is. She has fallen prey to who she is. She gave up. They all did.

Tug is the most powerless character in the whole movie. Yes, I rated him above Emily. At least Emily gets to move on, at least she tried to have some agency. You cannot say the same of Tug. He is never not subject to his anger, never ever in control, never able to make a single decision for himself. Even when he's trying to rise above his anger, it is his anger that consumes and drives him to make that decision. He is utterly incapable of change, which Brendan uses against him. No matter what Tug does, he loses.

Brick is a tale about how we will never win. If we are only out for revenge, if we only act on anger and disappointment then we will be forever stuck. Brendan would not change, he would not evolve, he would not let go. And he paid the price for it: all he knows and loves is gone. And I doubt he moved on from it. 

Knives Out

I was going to go see Knives Out with my mom over Thanksgiving... and then I don't know what happened?

Here I am, months later?

I really don't have much of an excuse.

Point is, Knives Out is an amazing movie... and kind of a strange Rian Johnson film. His usual trademarks are here: a young brunette lady and two white dudes who are opposed to each other, with emotional ties between all three of them, sometimes romantic? I mean, it's not, not here, but the triangle is definitely set up. The interesting thing, at least to me, is how Johnson plays the triangle that he's set up.

Martha is the squeakiest cleanest brunette that Johnson has ever made. I wouldn't say she isn't complicated, but every last thing that makes up the character reinforces her innate goodness.Whenever  there is a question of whether Martha does the right thing or not she, invariably, picks the right decision. And it works! She holds faith and she not only gets exonerated from any suspicion, but gets her a nice and shiny house! And I don't hate her! I actually think it's nice to have a character that is just a genuine salt-of-the-earth lady, who just wants to make sure that the right thing is done, even if she can't quite figure out what that may be at times.

Blanc is not the main character. Repeat that with me. Blanc is not the main charater. He is an epically cool antagonist, one that more than deserves a sequel. But, for most of the movie, Blanc is the antagonist to Martha. He is there to get the truth, which could rip apart Martha's family. His goals appear to be utterly the opposite of Martha's, while obviously being affectionate towards our kind-hearted protagonist. The interplay between these two characters is the heart and soul of the movie.

And then there's Hugh. No, I will not call him Ransom.

Asshole.

I was one of the people who, when I saw Evans playing this character in the trailer, laughed. Evans has always been a smartass, and he finally got to return to his roots as someone who openly does not a flying fig whatever you think. As the third corner of the triangle Evans plays his role with a gleefully greasy charm that could only have happened by having to play the only character who could have out good-guyed Martha: Captain America. I mean, I want more of Evans chewing scenery. Please, Hollywood, I beg of thee!

Yes, Hugh is another antagonist. In fact, everyone else in this thing seems to be. Hugh just happens to be the frontman for a sea of wretches and scumbags, all of whom have been using society to feel OK with whatever it is they're doing. Of all protagonists in a Johnson film Martha is the most alone. I mean, even Brendan from Brick at least had Brain! Martha doesn't seem to really have anyone. The pressure is exerted upon her from each and every side, and while she does triumph she is not unscathed.  And this has nothing to do with the politics; trying to put this movie under a political light is just outright stupid. For those of you on the left, your ideology is trashed just as much as the alt-right, if not more. So love of God please get off of the fake moral high horse you think you have. 

Yes, I felt better after that. No, I'm not alt-right. Or liberal. They're all evil bastards, far as I'm concerned.

The only thing that matters, the only thing, is that they're all against Martha at the end. Left, right, it matters little, they all stand against the beacon of light and goodness that the movie has so convincingly erected. Johnson is not known for his comfortable endings. Brick's ending lives up to its name, smashing you in the face with something I find more heartbreaking every time I watch. I still haven't figured out The Brothers' Bloom's ending. Looper's emphasis on suicide to get things done still jumps out at me. And The Last Jedi's showing of Rey shutting out the confused, overwhelmed, and vulnerable villain Kylo Ren still gives me pause. There was a moment, just one moment, where Ben may have come back, and she turned her back on him. 

I do not pretend to have a definitive view on any of those endings. But this ending is the hardest one to watch. It sticks in my head and torments me. Martha won. She stands above them, in white, as they stand in the gathering grey. How much does it matter what their facial expressions are? They all betrayed her, even the ones who you would have figured wouldn't. They all revealed their true colors. Goodness and kindness did, in fact, triumph over evil and greed and self-deception.

But for how long?

I've no bloody idea. And neither does Johnson.