My Five: Moments I Love in Movies I Love

admin — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 22:36:20 +0000

I love lists with justifications. I love them.

In Gattaca, the final swim in the ocean between Vincent and his brother. It ends with a bit of unnecessary dialog which sabotages the subtlety of the metaphor, but its the clearest example of the film’s heart. As a bit of optimistic futurism and as a statement against prejudice and discrimination it has stuck with me. I like it even more thanks to the melancholy given to it, retroactively, by the ending scenes, with toasty Jude Law.
In Lady Vengeance, when Geum-ja Lee discharges her pistol into the deceased Mr. Baek’s head. At that point, the audience has just sat through what I think is one of the most harrowing moral dilemmas ever put on screen, and Lee has had to accept that her thirst for vengeance holds no candle to those of the people who actually end up killing Mr. Baek. Still, almost emotionlessly, she fires into his head, putting a period at the end of that part of her life, because she thinks she needs to. She’s the picture of an ego sinking, no matter how unwillingly.
In Spirited Away, the train ride through the flooded land. I haven’t yet been able to articulate why this scene moves me so much. Faceless shapes getting on and off the train. Little stations poking up in an endless expanse of shallow water. It’s both serene and apocalyptic at the same time. I think it sticks with me because it was the first thing I’d encountered that displayed that combination of qualities. The world is somehow over, and at peace.
In Intacto, the race through the trees. This little film has a terrific weird-fiction vibe, with luck as a commodity capable of being bought and sold. Proving their luck, testing their luck, a group of men race blindfolded and with arms bound through a forest. If they’re lucky, they won’t run headlong into a tree. It could have been a comic moment, but the bonecrunching sound effects whenever an unlucky fellow kisses up to an oak make it much more tense than its description should allow. It’s one of those times when the temptation to laugh gets overruled by an urgent sympathy for the characters. Or it should, anyway.
In Pulse, the original Japanese, when the human behavior simulation is explained. In one quick explanation, the source of the spirit-crushing horror of the film dovetails with the technological fable that serves as the story’s hook. The simulation shows that human beings can approach each other, but can never be truly one. When people become too close to each other, an error creeps into the simulation. They disappear. At once, you realize that not only is distance — imposed by technology — driving people to suicide, but closeness as well. True human connection is impossible in that world. Moments later, the big irony comes out: in death, you exist in ultimate loneliness, an equilibrium state that haunts you so much further than you could ever manage to haunt someone else.

Saltboy » gattaca

My Five: Moments I Love in Movies I Love