Richard Linklater’s Slacker

Richard Linklater’s debut feature film Slacker, released in 1991, became something of a manifesto for Generation X (despite the fact that Linklater himself is a baby boomer).

The film, as is the case with a lot of Linklater’s work, has no real plot or characters. It is a series of vignettes of different residents of Austin, TX holding different intellectual discussions. In this regard, it is similar to his later work Waking Life (2001) (see my previous post), yet it differentiates itself by its mood. Slacker has a very playful, energetic feel to it. The different conversations are connected by space – that is, someone will leave one conversation and pick up another conversation with somebody walking by.

Other than that, there is no real link between the conversations. They range from philosophical meditations to political rants (not shying away from conspiracy theories either) to pop culture obsessions (one character attempts to sell an alleged pap smear from Madonna [the entertainer]). Placed together, the vignettes form a resonant impression of an unmotivated but intelligent generation. However, the film is not fettered by age – the spirit of the generation still echoes today, and probably echoes for anyone who was ever a bored 20-something.

Here is a trailer for the film: Slacker trailer

Richard Linklater’s Waking Life

Released in 2001, Richard Linklater‘s Waking Life defies easy categorization. It is not quite a narrative film, not quite a documentary. The film shows (through its unique and enjoyable rotoscoping animation) an unnamed 20-something male listening to a wide range of different thinkers as they muse on different philosophical topics, including reality, free will, and countless other ideas. Sometimes it appears as though the main character is intentionally meeting with these people to hold a discussion, sometimes it appears as though they just started talking to him in public.

The film also shows different groups of people holding conversations in the same fashion; these differ in the fact that the previously omnipresent character is absent. Whereas he was the consistent thread holding the movie together, his conspicuous absence negates any real plot. WIthout considering those sections missing the character, the film could be seen as the man’s journey to experience as many eye-opening philosophical viewpoints as possible. With this main character missing, it is no longer his journey, but the viewers.

Through the use of rotoscoping, Linklater allows the form to mirror the content of his work. The visuals, which are extremely nebulous and fluid, do not allow the viewer to attain a concrete grasp of the film’s reality. This is fitting, as many of the film’s discussions center around the difficult in determining what is or is not real.

Waking Life has received high acclaim from critics, but is very decidedly not for everyone. If you need a plot and a hook, this is not the movie for you. If, however, you are interested in sitting down for a work that will stick with you afterwards, perhaps even change the way you view the world, Waking Life may be the movie for you.

Here is a clip showcasing the film’s idiosyncratic visual style and subject matter:

Waking Life clip

Stuart Cooper’s Overlord

Stuart Cooper’s Overlord (1975) is defined by fluctuations. The story concerns Thomas, a young boy who signs up with a British army regiment and takes part in the storm on Normandy Beach on D-Day. The film fluctuates between time periods, flitting between Thomas’ past, present, and future, to create an artistic impression of the life of a soldier.

The film is also notable for the fluctuations between visuals. Shot by cinematographer John Alcott (who made his name doing cinematography for Stanley Kubrick, starting with A Clockwork Orange (1971), Barry Lyndon (1975), and The Shining (1980), also taking over as lighting camerman during the filming of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)), the film skips effortlessly between images of Thomas and those around him as they prepare for war and  actual documentary footage from the Second World War. This contrast adds a sense of realism to the film, and illustrates the hugeness of the situation surrounding our protagonist.

A major concern of the film is man’s size in the huge machine of the military. During one notable scene, Thomas writes a letter to his parents where he feels like he is shrinking in size until he will ultimately disappear; as the letter is dictated in his head, the camera pulls back until he is a tiny figure in the shot, before ultimately fading to more documentary footage where Thomas is no longer seen, nor are any people particularly recognizable.

Overlord is a tremendous film that is helped along by superb visuals and a phenomenal acting job by its lead, Brian Stimer, playing Thomas. Despite winning the Silver Bear at the Berlin Film Festival upon its release, the film has faded into relative obscurity since then. Perhaps this is because it is not as immediate and arresting as many of the other war films from the time (of which there are plenty). It has also been suggested that perhaps its message isn’t as blatant and pigeonholable as other movies from the time period and as such was forgotten. Whatever the reason, Overlord is a truly fabulous example of war cinema and deserves significantly more recognition than it receives.

Elem Klimov’s Come and See

Elem Klimov’s Come and See (1985) is one of the most powerful movies I have ever seen. During the Nazi occupation of Byelorussian SSR, young Florian Gaishun finds a rifle and joins the partisan rebellion. As is typical with these films, Florya begins to lose his innocence as he witnesses the horrors of war. Despite its typical thematic materials, Come and See distinguishes itself from other war films by the brutal and relentless mental warfare it wages upon the viewer.

As Florya witnesses the death and destruction that begins to surround him, the viewer is taken alongside him, witnessing everything with the same savagery that Florya does. Klimov powerfully has his characters look and speak directly into the camera. This breaks down the boundary between the viewer and what is happening to the characters on-screen. As opposed to witnessing everything from behind a veil, the audience is directly addressed by the characters, directly implicating the viewer.

Apart from the visuals, Klimov uses sound to constantly weigh down the viewer, extending his mental assault upon them. After Florya narrowly survives an air raid, he is rendered temporarily deaf. The soundtrack is filled with a shrill ringing and an oppressive ambient tone. While the ringing fades away, the heavy, muddy sound never leaves the soundtrack, forcing the viewer to listen beyond it to get the full story. The sounds are atonal and leave the viewer physically uncomfortable, but beyond that they are no longer able to clearly hear what is going on.

Come and See left me nauseous. It is one of the most effective psychological horror films I have ever seen. Watching the film is painful. There were many occasions when I simply wanted to turn away and forget what I had seen. Yet the film leaves you hooked. The acting is often ridiculous and over-the-top, intentionally so – as opposed to turning you off, it leaves you  uncomfortable and unable to relate to the events onscreen. Klimov’s film is brilliant, and I believe it to be one of the greatest films I have ever seen.

Whit Stillman’s Metropolitan

Released in 1990, Whit Stillman‘s Metropolitan generated considerable critical buzz before largely disappearing from the radar. This is a shame, as it is one of the most charming and witty movies I have ever seen.

I have probably seen this movie at least 15 times in its entirety. The film revolves around Tom Townsend, a middle-class Princeton University student living in Manhattan. One night he falls in with a group of upper-class intellectuals. Tom is hesitant to join their group (known as the SFRP) as he is a “commited socialist,” a Fourierist, and the SFRP are all conservative Yuppies. However, as he spends more time with them, he realizes that they are not as bad as he originally thought, and perhaps even his ideas were wrong.

The other dramatic arc running through the film is Tom’s love triangle. Tom still has feelings for his old girlfriend Serena, while Audrey, a member of the SFRP and Jane Austen-enthusiast, loves Tom. Audrey is lovably played by Carolyn Farina, an actress who disappointingly largely disappeared after this role.

The film’s concerns run deeper than the surface might suggest. At face value, the film playfully critiques the pretentious and the upper-class. While the characters may be very well-read and well-spoken, it is unclear how much practical use they can get from their knowledge. However, the film is more concerned with classic coming-of-age themes. The struggle to maintain a unique identity with unique values, and the pressure of familial expectations. As one character in the film states, they are all “doomed.” They are the downwardly mobile, paralyzed by the expectations placed upon them by their parents success.

Metropolitan is a delightful coming-of-age comedy. The dialogue is among the quickest and wittiest I have ever heard. I personally consider it the most quotable movie of all time. While some may consider its intellectual loftiness a turnoff, Metropolitan is truly a smart movie. It is particularly resonant for those soon-to-be college graduates like me who are also about to confront the world and all of its expectations.

Tom, Audrey, and Charlie