Picking the Nolan Bros. Apart Again...But Not Too Much

After we saw The Dark Knight Rises last weekend, the four of us left the theater a bit underwhelmed. Not necessarily disappointed, just underwhelmed, noting the lackluster dialogue in particular. But my reaction was a bit more nuanced: what does it mean to dislike a film, anyway? Didn't it do what it was supposed to do, namely entertain? Should every film aspire to an Oscar in screenwriting and direction? I have mixed feelings about this, but I'm leaning toward no. I don't necessarily like the idea of Hollywood pouring millions of dollars into box office bombs, but I will admit that I enjoy a good thrill ride of a movie, whether it has hokey one liners or not, as long as it does its job well.

So what makes TDKR different? I think what gets people (myself included) particularly fired up about Nolan brothers films is that they pretend to philosophical depth. They make people think, both about the complex plot of th movie and the larger ideas their characters and plots stir up. But think about them too much, and you see just how fragile their complicated setup ends up being. The catch is, I don't think this is a bad thing. How much do you really have to think about a movie? And this is coming from someone who writes about films for fun. Just because they stir up questions, does it mean they owe us answers? I think A.V. Club's Noel Murray puts it best when he brings up the following points:

would answering these questions (and the questions their viewers have about the movie) enrich the movie and experience, or would it just make the film longer?

If a film does take a political or social stance, is "that alone...a reason to dislike the film?"

And lastly, when does a weak story irrevocably diminish the spectacle, craft, or thrill of an enjoyable movie?

I very much enjoy thinking about cinema, and I have zero desire to just experience a movie from a purely passive point of view. However, I do think there's a point where analysis can go too far, and "suck the fun out of discussing" and watching movies. It's an interesting notion to keep in mind.

A Better Dreamer [Spoiler Alert]

**NOTE: I've been writing this for 3 weeks, so it's a bit choppy and disjointed. Let me know if you need any clarification of my points, and I'll do my best to shed light on something or other.**

Exploring the three levels “on which our minds live: the past, the present, and the conditional - the realm of fantasy” ~ Federico Fellini

Of course a lot of talk has been going around about Christopher Nolan's Inception. I for one thought it was great, until I thought about it and decided that it was flawed, but still great. Christopher Nolan has great concepts in his head, and he really has a vision for his work, it's quite obvious. But my main answer to anyone who asks is that I don't think he thinks things through in layers, rather he thinks a movie through via it's plot.

Remember that whole story vs. plot thing? The plot is confined to the film or piece of fiction, whereas the story can bleed beyond the pages of the book or screenplay. The key difference is that the plot of a work of art (told in order) can portray a story out of order. Take Nolan's Memento for example: the story portrays Leonard tattooing himself to combat his short-term memory loss as he searches for his wife's killer; the plot presents these events backwards for dramatic and artistic effect. My claim is that Nolan is really good at thinking of a captivating plot, but he is not as good at fleshing out the layers of a good story.

In the case of Inception (and I won't go too in depth because that is not my main point here), the concepts such as totems, architects, and the concept of inception itself, seem intriguing on the surface, but as soon as they're done furthering the plot, they are dropped. We never find out anything more about Ariadne's totem (or much more about dream architecture once its existence as a concept is done explaining her presence); we never find out how long all of this dream stuff has been around (Mal supposedly invented the use of the totem, but if this thing has a long and storied history, you would think someone else would have needed to keep a grasp on reality); and we never find out anything about the other characters beyond their functions on Cobb's team. To those of you who use these facts to support your stupid "it's all a dream" theory, I say BOO. Even if it was a dream (which, I maintain, would be a cop out), I believe that it is important for a movie to have depth beyond what happens on screen -- more story, less plot.

The dream bit actually brings me around to my real point here. Interestingly enough, I had the pleasure of seeing 8 1/2 again last night. Great film. For once Ebert and I agree when he said that it's the best film about filmmaking. Hands down. Anyway, my main thesis here is that I think Fellini did the dreaming Christopher Nolan was aiming for, both achieving more of a dreamlike quality (one popular critique of Inception), and more successfully incorporating all those rules Nolan beats into you during all of that futile exposition. (Again, I think it's flawed, but still great.)

8 1/2 focuses on Guido, a middle-aged film director who is struggling to make the movie he's always wanted. It is a metafilm adventure, as we discover that the project described therein that is supposedly doomed to fail by all of his colleagues in the picture is eerily similar to the very film we are watching. Guido wrestles with his subconscious to figure out what he believes about love, what his life really means, and what those around him mean to him. It is personal in every sense of the word, first and foremost because we automatically assume in the first minutes of the film that the director portrayed must bear some resemblance to the real and famous Italian director, Fellini himself, and secondarily due to the behind-the-scenes look we get at Guido's varied relationships, his director's-block, and how each of them affect his work. But perhaps most personal is the fact that we dream with Guido and not only witness how the film's events affect his work, but also how they affect his subconscious. More accurately, we witness how his subconscious affects his work--even more plainly, his subconscious is the work. Thus, dreaming is a very important element to the film, and the common ground between this and Nolan's latest piece.

Returning to Inception for a bit, Nolan sets out several rules in the beginning his film that are supposed to alert the viewer and the dream invaders that they are in a dream world, and that the subconscious is alive, well, and ready to turn on the intruders. Rules range from keeping tabs on others around you (the more everyone looks at you, the more their subconscious is aware of your presence, a sign that you have tampered with too much), to staying abreast of how you arrived at your current position (a sign that you are probably in a dream), to being aware of the either the "kick" or death as some of the only ways you can forcibly get out of the dream state. Nolan lays out these rules and tips as Cobb introduces Ariadne to the world of extraction.

I would claim that, while one film predates the other by 50 years, Fellini adheres to similar rules of the unconscious/subconscious. Better yet, he teaches these rules of the dream world to the viewer by throwing them into the fray instead of giving googobs of exposition. We follow Guido seamlessly in and out of the dream world, unsure of how we arrived or where we are. Guido's dreams, like the film itself, are ripe subconscious material, ripped straight from the events of his life, past, present, and future, and holding important clues for interpretation, much like the dreams the extractors probe in their work. The eye contact of those who populate Guido's world is also an interesting characteristic of his subconscious. They stare at him (and us) with an unnaturally steady gaze, prying into his motives and desires, and, like Nolan's extractors, trying to discover what his deepest secrets are.

Throughout the movie, Guido tries to interpret his own dreams to answer his questions about making his film while battling his personal life on the side. The two intermingle until he has a realization that. Cobb, too, struggles to find a balance between his work and his personal life, and he also comes to an intermingling conclusion. While the protagonists have many similarities, it's the directors in my mind who differ in their storytelling styles. There is a subtlety that Nolan could learn from Fellini that I think is highlighted in their dreamscapes. The ease with which Fellini glides through 8 1/2 underscores the harmony between story and plot; perhaps this was because the story was so personal to the director. Nolan really told a great plot in Inception, but, for me, the transitions were rocky and drew attention to the incongruity between the story and plot. Inception is an undoubtedly an entertaining film that gets people talking and thinking, but when it comes to the better dreamer, I maintain that Fellini's got him beat.