Monday, November 11, 2013

Stranger Things Have Happened

     I know not everyone went to the movie night, but we saw "The Man Who Wasn't There". You can look up a description if you're curious. I just wanted to throw this idea out, since I felt like the only one who was laughing the whole time. There was a lot about the movie that we questioned the deeper meaning of, and there's definitely merit to that. We could see the absurdity of the movie paralleling the absurdity in the book. I've actually seem this movie before, I'd just forgotten that I had. Seeing it the first time, it was definitely weird. The impulse is to try to break down everything that happened and understand exactly what the philosophical connotations of it all was. I'm sorry if this sounds irreverent to you -- well, actually no, I'm not sorry -- but that movie was hilarious. We seemed to be laughing at the ridiculousness because we didn't understand it, but I'm saying no, this movie was supposed to be funny. It's more of a comedy than an intro to a psychological phenomenon, or something like that.
     Come on guys, there were spaceships. SPACESHIPS. In a movie based on a book that had some really serious themes. They're slapping you in the face with ridiculous things, not just throwing them in there because they can. I think we saw a lot of humor in the movie, but seriously, this. is. a. comedy. I mean Big Dave's wife? Totally there for comedic purposes. I mean spaceships. SPACESHIPS. Yes, that was an excellent way to show that Ed (Meursault) had accepted his lot in life and wasn't going to try to change it just because some aliens opened his cell door and a door out of the prison.
     What really made the movie, in my opinion, was Billy Bob Thornton's totally straight face. The humor was all absurdity, so you can't have any of the characters laughing. They just have to go with it. What really made it good, though, was the fact that there were so many scenes that just had inner monologue where Ed had his totally straight face staring right into the camera. He was in the center of the screen with a relatively symmetric set. Anyone who knows anything about photography knows the rule of thirds. You never put your subject in the dead center of a photo, or at least you don't make the picture symmetric. The dissonance, then, makes the image more interesting. It invites your eye to wander around. Not so in "The Man Who Wasn't There". Ed looked the camera head on. It made you look at his face and nothing else. Your eyes did not wander in those scenes. The book has the liberty to show you everything through Meursault's eyes. The movie had to come up with some way to do that as well. I think the voice-over of those symmetric shots was perfect. You are looking right into Ed's face as he tells you what he's thinking. He almost seemed like a straight man.
     One thing that was a pretty serious theme, but was comedic at times, was how everyone trusted Ed immediately. In the movie, we could see why that was in a way that was less obvious in the book. Ed was quiet, just sort of went along with things, and his reactions just made him look like an honest guy. We talked about how honest Meursault can be, but Ed looks honest, which can hit home more than just reading about him can. Ed was then surrounded by characters who were pretty much all dishonest in some way or another, and to varying degrees. The fact that Ed doesn't react to any of that very much, and that so much of the movie just seems random, just makes the absurdity actually funny. Even some of the actors are traditionally associated with comedic roles. So yeah, I was laughing pretty much the whole time.

Monsieur Meursault est heureux

     Meursault is not a sociopath. At least not completely. He has feelings, and we see that every once in a while. It's just that he doesn't feel very strongly about many things. By the end of the book, we are really more worried with what the trial thinks about Meursault than how he feels about the situation. It's easy to just miss how Meursault feels since he mentions feelings so sparingly. By the end, I would argue, he has reached a sort of happiness. I don't mean the kind of happiness where he could ask for nothing more. Obviously he would jump at any chance to get out and find Marie. I just mean that he isn't particularly upset by his lot at the end. He understands he is going to die and finds that knowledge freeing. Is that really so strange to us? Many characters in many books have a sense of freedom as they knowingly go to their deaths. Is Meursault's reaction really all that surprising?
     I suppose this is the time when we figure out how he feels about his mother - that burning question, lit from the first sentence. There's been a lot of argumentation over Meursault's guilt, but that's all our opinion and the opinion of the court. He is sorry she died and would rather that she hadn't. At the same time, that's just life, as far as Meursault can tell. She seemed perfectly happy in the Home, and he hadn't mistreated her or anything. He did the best he could for her, so really there's nothing left to worry about. Except that's not how people are 'supposed' to react. People are supposed to be terrified of death. They're supposed to be irrational and afraid and to cry over things they have no control over. People are supposed to have to fall apart before they can learn and change their lives; before they can find happiness.
     I would argue that Meursault just sort of skips a few steps. He is an extremely logical person. He doesn't really care about social norms. He just wants to be liked. Being sad doesn't really serve a logical purpose other than sometimes it can make you feel better to get it all out there. Meursault doesn't have anything to get out there. Whatever closer he needs, he has already found. What reason would he have to break down crying? It would just make him even more uncomfortable with the heat and everything else. Meursault just skips right to the acceptance. Maman is dead. That's all there is to it. But the understanding, the learning part doesn't come until he does snap, in a way. He seems perfectly fine with death, but he doesn't understand his mother until he flies off the handle at the priest. Then it all just dawns on him. Everything is meaningless. Therefore, we must create our own meaning. The court could never understand this concept, whether Meursault was to defend himself or not. The Magistrate dangles a cross in front of his face for goodness sake. There is no way that a group of people who completely believe, and in fact know that there is a One True God and that there's some larger plan for everyone and that they are all basically pawns with their own raison d'etre could possibly understand atheism. So they don't, and they kill Meursault for it. They kill him because humans are still and have always been afraid of what we don't understand. It is easier to reject the unknown rather than question it. Meursault is still human. He's just more rational. The irony being that the jury can't make sense of his logic.