Film Feature
Originally published in The Bottom Line
At this year’s WonderCon, a panel was held to promote the upcoming fantasy action thriller Hanna, a film loosely based on the fairy tale motif of a young girl growing up in isolation. In the film, a young girl is raised in seclusion and trained to be an assassin by her father. Director Joe Wright (Pride and Prejudice, Atonement, The Soloist) and leading actress Saoirse Ronan (Atonement, The Lovely Bones) appeared to discuss the film and answer fan questions. I later attended a roundtable where I was able to speak one-on-one with them.
Hanna is Wright’s first action film; he says he ended up directing the film purely on suggestion from Ronan, who assumes the title role. It is a major departure from his previous films, which are dramas and book adaptations. When speaking of his approach to filming, Wright remarked that the lack of source material was liberating.
“We had a very free arena to play in,” he said.
He mentioned that Hanna is a very European film which pays homage to French New Wave cinema, Italian films and 1960’s spy flicks. He also commented on his love for the “marriage of sound and vision” through the medium of film, noting that he believes sound is often underused in cinema.
When asked his opinion on 3D and D-Box, Wright admitted he had never heard of D-Box.
“I love cinema for what it is. I’m not interested in circus gimmicks,” he said.
The director also spoke at length about the film’s soundtrack, which is an original score by the Chemical Brothers. The trailer, as well as the few scenes shown at the panel, featured the unique music – an intriguing mesh of heavy bass and pulsing techno beats.
Interestingly, Wright brought up the character of Hanna in relation to feminism. He stated that Hanna exemplifies a true feminist heroine because of her intelligence. Later, he went on to criticize the modern conception of “girl power,” which uses sex appeal. He also berated a few “recent films” featuring women in skimpy school-girl outfits and toting machine guns.
“Female empowerment is not about sex. It’s about brains…not objectifying women. Hanna exists outside of that culture – she has never been a part of it,” he said.
Ronan agreed with Wright’s views.
“It’s important to have female characters that are not sexy or cool. Hanna is quite elegant in her temperament and behavior. We need interesting young women to force people to talk about this issue,” she said.
Ronan went on to speak fondly of her experiences working on Hanna, noting that her development of the character was aided by the fact that the film was shot in chronological order.
“I had to wipe my mind of anything I had gone through, because she had not gone through it. It was a fantastic exercise, and one of the purest exercises that I’ve done,” she said.
Ronan also spoke at length about her fondness for the character, describing Hanna as “quite a pure character, a pure young girl.” Upon mentioning her rigorous training for the film, she remarked, “Suddenly I had muscles- it was quite an empowering feeling!”
It is it quite evident that Ronan enjoyed playing Hanna because she is a feminist hero, a complicated character, and a fine role model for young girls, including Ronan herself.
“Every now and again I think ‘what would Hanna do?’” she said.
During the roundtable, Wright was asked about the challenges he incurred while filming Hanna.
“I was not looking for an action movie, it kind of happened. I was very intrigued by the character of Hanna. She has a unique perspective on the world, and I was fascinated by the challenge of shooting action,” he said.
He then recounted that his biggest challenge was the fight scenes, later stating that he filmed the fight scenes as though he were shooting dance scenes, based on his experience with Pride and Prejudice. He also remarked that he was very accustomed to doing literary adaptations and that he quite liked the limitations they offered, describing them as the “mother of invention.”
“I hope it works on different levels. It can be taken as a fantasy action thriller, but we should make films that are more responsible and for intelligent audiences. We often underestimate the intelligence of the audience,” said Wright when asked if the film had a political message.
As a fan of Wright’s previous films (especially Atonement), I do recognize his efforts to create more intelligent films that are not so obvious.
Because Hanna was filmed all over Europe, I asked Wright’s opinion on using green screen technology versus shooting on location. He stated that he found green screens useful, but ultimately confusing to his “literal brain” as well as “difficult to understand.”
“I love to travel. I love going to extraordinary places,” he added.
Filming on location is a convenient way to satisfy these desires while working on a movie. He lamented that his lack of understanding green and blue screen technology is what is holding him back from directing an underwater remake of The Little Mermaid. He also remarked that it gets boring on set and he would rather travel to keep his job interesting.
“I understood her, and I understand why she does what she does. Her world is being threatened…she’s unremorseful for a very human reason, ” she said when asked how she was able to play a character so unremorseful.
Ronan also went on to say that she does not draw from experience when playing a character, and repeated that she had to wipe her mind and memory of all previous experiences before assuming the role.
After attending the feature, roundtable event, and getting a chance to converse with the director and leading actress, I am more excited than ever to see and review Hanna. It hits theaters on April 8th.
American Psycho Review
I watched American Psycho for the first time about two years ago, greatly enjoyed it and was positively tickled by the ending. Above all, I was so intrigued by the character of Patrick Bateman that I was tempted to read the book, which I finished reading perhaps six months ago. The book is unforgettable and is still fresh in my mind. I have re-watched the film just now, a few moments ago.
I’ll start by stating that I like the film and the book, but I am now left pondering which one I like better, or rather, which one I believe is better. My answer keeps changing and I would really like to come to a cohesive conclusion. But I digress – I’m going to start with my review of the book first.
Regarding the Original Text:
When I finished reading American Psycho I had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I was greatly impressed by the novel’s addictive quality in spite of being incredibly repetitive and, in some ways, monotonous. I absolutely loved the satirical aspect of the text as well. The novel paints a hilarious (and shockingly accurate) caricature of 1980’s Wall Street pomposity, upper-class classism, misogyny, and the impending mania that comes with projecting one’s worth onto other people. Patrick Bateman is an incredibly nuanced character, fleshed out to a T, neurotic, obsessive-compulsive, desperate to keep up appearances in spite of hating the world and everyone in it – and these qualities are fascinating.
Bateman’s character study drives the plot. I was always eager to see just how far he would go, and also how far the author would go — in regard to the graphic violence. I was not disappointed. The novel is replete with scenes of cannibalism, necrophilia, mutilation, murder, and unabashed insanity. I confess I often found myself nodding along with Bateman’s breathless criticisms of people’s tastes, his overwhelming disgust for his contemporaries and especially his superiors. His jealousy feels visceral. His powerlessness is a modern tragedy.
I suppose what I’m really trying to say is that whether you love Bateman, hate him, or want to murder him; you have to admit that he is shamelessly, unabashedly interesting.
The chapter I would like to focus on is Lunch with Bethany, as it exemplifies some of the novel’s strongest aspects. After a lengthy awkward exchange with Bethany, an old girlfriend, Patrick becomes so infuriated when she pays for the meal that he becomes physically ill – a scene which I found very telling:
“I’ll pay for it,” I sigh.
“No,” she says, opening her handbag. “I invited you.”
“But I have a platinum American Express card,” I tell her.
“But so do I,” she says, smiling.
I pause, then watch her place the card on the tray the check came on. Violent convulsions seem close at hand if I do not get up. “The women’s movement. Wow.” I smile, unimpressed.
Outside, she waits on the sidewalk while I’m in the men’s room throwing up my lunch, spitting out the squid, undigested and less purple than it was on my plate. When I come out of Vanities onto the street, putting on my Wayfarers, chewing a Cert, I murmur something to myself, and then I kiss her on the cheek and make up something else. “Sorry it took so long. Had to call my lawyer.”
I love this scene and others like it in the novel (see “April Fools,” “Tunnel,” and “Another Night” – which consists entirely of a meandering dialogue regarding dinner reservations and overwhelming bitchiness on all sides.) These are all examples of a character study done right; this is showing without telling, and it is also telling without downright explaining. These chapters not only reveal the nuances of Patrick’s inner workings, but they also clearly illustrate the bizarre Wonderland he is forced to exist in.
I am focusing on “Lunch with Bethany” because it is a good example of all that is both right AND wrong with this novel. Patrick, now physically sickened by her gesture is later driven to madness by her decision to marry Robert Hall, the owner of the infamous Dorsia, and he resolves to murder her with blunt knives and a nail gun. He is further motivated by her critical remarks regarding the orientation of a painting on the wall, insisting that it is upside down. The torture and murder of Bethany is quite gratuitous and graphic – here is an excerpt for curious eyes:
I lean in above her and shout, over her screams, “Try to scream, scream, keep screaming…” I’ve opened all the windows and the door to my terrace and when I stand over her, the mouth opens and not even screams come out anymore, just horrible, guttural, animal-like noises, sometimes interrupted by retching sounds. “Scream, honey,” I urge, “keep screaming.” I lean down, even closer, brushing her hair back. “No one cares. No one will help you…” She tries to cry out again but she’s losing consciousness and she’s capable of only a weak moan. I take advantage of her helpless state and, removing my gloves, force her mouth open and with the scissors cut out her tongue, which I pull easily from her mouth and hold in the palm of my hand, warm and still bleeding, seeming so much smaller than in her mouth, and I throw it against the wall, where it sticks for a moment, leaving a stain, before falling to the floor with a tiny wet slap. Blood gushes out of her mouth and I have to hold her head up so she won’t choke. Then I fuck her in the mouth, and after I’ve ejaculated and pulled out, I mace her some more.
Now, herein lies the biggest problem I had with the book. There is no doubting that this violent episode is well-written, cringe-inducing, and a guilty pleasure to read, or rather, endure. But scenes like this represent literally the tip of the iceberg. After this chapter, the violence escalates to bizarre proportions, becoming almost cartoonlike in its absurdity. Any chapter entitled “Girls,” which contains paragraph after paragraph describing mutilated faces, the piles of body parts stacked up in the fridge and bathtub, even a ridiculous sequence in which Patrick chews on a raw intestine while watching the Patty Winters Show – ripped out all sense of my suspension of disbelief. I recognize fully that this was probably the author’s intention; however the frequency of these episodes still became annoying to me, monotonous and frustrating, and overall a complete chore to read. By the time I reached the climax – the swelling chase scene which involves Bateman running around New York City murdering people left and right with nary a consequence – I was exhausted. I almost didn’t care anymore. I didn’t know how to feel because I didn’t know what to believe, or what I was supposed to believe.
After I finished the novel, I felt a nagging emptiness. I actually initially felt that it had been a waste of my time, as I’d had to trudge through so much meandering boring violence and 80s music reviews to get to the meat of the character, and even then that amounts to naught since Bateman is a truly unreliable narrator. The ending, as with the film, is equally confusing and intriguing, but I like to believe that Bateman at least killed Paul Allen – the real Paul Allen, not some guy he merely thinks is Paul Allen. But really, now, let’s cool it with these heated Freudian dissections of his character. He doesn’t know if he’s insane – he doesn’t know if he killed those people – so why should you?
That said, I do like this book even though I have no intention to read it in its entirety ever again. Now, on to my film review which will be delivered in more or less of a list format…
Regarding the Film:
I love this movie. It is by far one of the best book adaptations I have ever seen. It of course goes without saying that Christian Bale was perfectly cast for the role, he doesn’t ham it up even though he easily could have, and even when he’s SUPPOSED to be a ham (such as the scene in which he murders “Paul Allen”) he isn’t really, and he plays it naturally.
The opening sequence perfectly highlights the important themes in the story: the constant confusing of identities, the disgusting pomposity and dripping wealth of the characters, and of course, the overwhelming fakeness of Bateman and his “friends.”
The movie, like the book, also functions as a great character study, although I find movie Bateman to be much less loathsome than book Bateman. He’s more sympathetic, and you can tell that at his core he really does want to “fit in,” unlike book Bateman who seems to get some sort of sick satisfaction from hating people.
It is slightly disappointing that the film couldn’t have been more graphic. You get the gist of it, yes, but not by a long shot. The chainsaw scene was executed fabulously though, I love the part where he chomps on her leg, and his battle cry after dropping the chainsaw smack into her back was simply divine –
But the misogyny doesn’t translate as much on screen. Book Bateman REALLY hated women, only referred to them as “hardbodies” and openly fantasized about slicing them up to almost everyone he met. He hated Evelyn, his fiancée, so much that he killed her dog, stood her up multiple times, and tried to feed her a urinal cake dipped in chocolate. Movie Bateman, while still a complete narcissistic woman-hater, seemed a bit more reserved in this respect. It didn’t really seem like he was killing women because he hated them, but rather because they were more impressionable and therefore easier to prey on. Not to mention that all of his male friends are his intellectual equals while all the women in his life are complete bimbos.
Bateman’s drug use is way better detailed in the book. He’s coked out of his mind or basically sedated almost all the time. More importantly, perhaps, all of the people in his life are also on drugs, and this greatly affects his capacity to communicate sincerely with others. But I suppose due to rating restrictions this couldn’t be explored fully in the film. Sad, really, since drugs are such great plot devices.
The Al scene (in which Bateman murders a black hobo called Al) is much better executed in the book. I loved that in the book the killing gives him an appetite and he goes into a McDonald’s and gorges himself, all while making a point to sit where he thinks Al would have. This is GREAT because it is such a sharp contrast from the episodes in which he dines at 5-star restaurants and picks at his food or ignores it altogether, usually preferring to sneak off and do a line of coke or drink copious amounts of J&B instead.
The use of narration/voiceover in the film is very effective, but severely underutilized. In the novel naturally we’re in Bateman’s head all the time. In the film there were too many times when I wondered what he was really thinking about while spewing all the self-important B.S. from his mouth.
Bateman’s relationship with Jane (his secretary) is also murky at best in the film, whereas in the book it is clear that he has no desire to kill her simply because he realizes she would be the perfect woman for him. In the film it seems as though he would kill her at the ready, or even that he desires to kill her – in this book this is not so, although I admit that for the film this is an intriguing plot device and begs the question: could Bateman ever have a genuine relationship with any woman? Or any person?
In Conclusion:
I like the movie. I like the book. But if I’m to be completely, irrevocably honest, I would say that despite its shortcomings I do prefer the film. I really do. The book is marvelous, there is no doubting that. The writing is top notch. The descriptions are visceral and disgusting and they will snap you to attention, but at the same time, the book feels taxing – tedious – even boring in its abject monotony and repetition. It drones at times. I prefer the film, perhaps by a slight hair, merely because it is quicker, perhaps because it is condensed, and perhaps because it does cover the essential bases even though it cannot tarry into extended detail. This is not to say that the book is not worthwhile. It absolutely is. It is addictive and an absolute pleasure to read and digest. The attention to detail is astounding, and in many ways the book is superior – but the film is nice and compact, well acted, leaves little to fancy.
So, yes, by a single hair, I should say I prefer the film.
Opinion
Originally published via The Bottom Line
It’s called Open Mic for a reason: it is supposed to be an open venue for self-expression through poetry, spoken word and music. “Anyone and everyone is welcome to grace the stage in a supportive space” boasts the flyer for the event but this was not the case at all, considering what happened at the UC Santa Barbara Multicultural Center’s Open Mic on February 10, 2011.
The emcee hosting the event discouraged two students from sharing their pieces.
Sean Mabry, a UCSB first-year Literature major, was shooed offstage before he could finish reading “Sunny Prestatyn” by Philip Larkin, and Demi Anter, also a UCSB first-year Literature major, was almost kicked off while in the middle of performing a spoken word piece.
During Sean Mabry’s reading of “Sunny Prestatyn”, the emcee was apparently offended by the phrase “tuberous cock and balls” (which is a reference to a crude sketch on a poster). Shortly after hearing those words she kicked Sean offstage, saying that she “wasn’t feeling it.”
But so what if she “wasn’t feeling it”? This isn’t American Idol and she is not a judge.
“I was confused,” admits Mabry. “I remember the emcee very sharply saying ‘you’re done.’ So I went back to my seat, figuring it was somehow my mistake. It was extremely embarrassing.”
No one else in the audience took offense to the poem; in fact, many of us were already familiar with it and its cryptic message. A few audience members giggled at the phrase, but no one demonstrated any form of disgust or offense – except the host. It was obvious to those of us familiar with the poem that she was offended because she misunderstood its meaning, and that is certainly not reason enough to discourage a performer. The poem is about the defilement of a woman on a poster, not an actual woman. The narrator in the poem is clearly troubled by this and there is nothing in the poem that celebrates the actual defilement of women.
“Shouldn’t the person watching out for offensive material be the most attentive listener in the audience?” asked Mabry.
I have attended several of these MCC-hosted Open Mic events, and I have observed that performers are only kicked off the stage in response to the audience – in other words, when audience members are offended or unimpressed and voice that sentiment.
“There’s a difference between maintaining cultural sensitivity and actively trying to be offended,” said Mabry. “It’s hard to deny that what happened at Open Mic was an example of the latter.”
A bit later in the show, Demi Anter took the stage to perform a sexually-charged spoken word piece. In the middle of her performance, the emcee once again made a very obvious gesture of her disapproval by signaling to the DJ to cut the mic; this made many audience members uncomfortable.
“When the emcee cut off the first poet [Sean], the mood of the event quickly became discouraging and awkward,” said Anter, who was able to finish her piece before getting kicked off.
The fact that Anter was able to finish her piece did nothing to relieve the tension that the emcee had ignited for no reason at all. Her response seemed unnecessary, especially considering that no one in the audience booed or attempted to heckle Anter off the stage.
“I heard the emcee clearing her throat while I recited my piece – which was a rather intense poem about a failed relationship and included some profanity – but I just kept going and she did not cut me off. I later learned that she had come close to cutting me off. I am not sure if this was due to the subject matter or to the profanity.”
Anter also remarked that she did not expect there to be any censoring at an “Open Mic” event, a sentiment which I believe was shared by everyone who attended.
I am writing this article in defense of free speech. I am by no means proposing that “anything goes” for an Open Mic event. Of course, there must be ground rules – no hate speech, for example – but these should be clearly stated and not left to the discretion of one person. The audience and performers at this particular Open Mic were forced to accept the host’s notion of what was inappropriate and what was not. There were other “edgy” performances that could have been deemed offensive or problematic for some (one student sang about domestic abuse and others used racial slurs in their poems); however, the emcee did not ask any of these performers to step off stage. It appears that she found only sexually suggestive pieces offensive or inappropriate. At this type of venue, it is perfectly logical to kick someone off the stage if audience members are visibly or audibly offended – that’s how Open Mic works. It is not acceptable for the emcee of an “Open Mic” event to censor performances based on their own personal feeling or assessment. If that’s the case, it should be clearly stated on the flyer.
Anter has since written a letter to the MCC detailing her reaction to the incident. Other students have decided to take action as well.
Paulina Cassimus, a third-year Film Studies major, and Kevin Zambrano, a third-year Literature major, wrote a letter to the MCC which states: “Open-Mic nights are supposed to be a chance for people to express themselves without fear of being thrown off the stage for reading something that the moderator doesn’t think is in good taste.”
In other words, Open Mic is a democracy; the audience decides what is appropriate. Censorship by the emcee should neither be permitted nor tolerated. We’re all adults here, and if we don’t approve of someone’s performance, WE will shoo them off stage. We do not need (nor should we tolerate) anyone making that decision for us.
I am baffled that a performer can get the boot for failing to make the emcee “feel it” at Open Mic. Did I miss the flyer that said Open Mic performers would be censored by the emcee? Or does this trample on our right to free speech?