Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

I have a firm policy that I generally never see a movie adaptation until I have read the book it is based off of. I’m a die-hard believer that the book is almost always better than the movie and I like testing my theory and paying attention to how a film renders a novel visually.  After hearing rave reviews all year about Silver Linings Playbook, I read the novel and absolutely loved it. I was so excited to see the film because there was so much hype about it, especially after Jennifer Lawrence won an Oscar for her performance and the film received a Best Picture nomination.

            I’m sad to say that I was completely and utterly underwhelmed by this film. There were some moments that felt right but for the most part, the film felt like a stale rom-com where the characters are supposedly suffering from ‘mental illnesses’ that manifest themselves in nothing more than outbursts of anger. I’m going to try to avoid just bitching about how the movie messed up the book, but there are a few relevant points that I feel like I have to make and they tie in to greater issues that I have with cinematic adaptations of books.

            First, the book is ruthlessly dedicated to capturing Pat’s struggles and gives the reader first-person insight into his mind. The book is beautifully written and manages to present Pat’s hysteria in a way that we not only understand but that seems completely logical to us. The film, on the other hand, seems like it does everything possible to present Pat as ‘troubled’ but not too crazy. What were written as crippling, full scale mental breakdowns come off onscreen as no more than outbursts of anger from a hotheaded man. The problem with most book-turned-movie adaptations is that the film cannot convey the narrative voice of the novel, particularly if the novel is written in first-person narration, and so the film ends up telling us the story of the book without all the psychological and mental insight that makes the story so complex and interesting. One recent (and relevant) example of this was The Hunger Games adaptation, which also features Jennifer Lawrence. The novel was written in first person and half of the beauty of the novel is the complexity of Katniss’ character; she is simultaneously disagreeable, bitter, kind, courageous, and naive, and we love her for it. The film (despite Jennifer’s excellent performance) loses a lot of depth because we have hardly any insight into her character. We lose integral parts of the story, like the fact that Katniss is essentially faking her love for Peeta for the cameras in the arena in order to keep them both alive, because we have no idea what’s going on in her mind.

            I think the biggest problem with Silver Linings Playbook is that the film loses nearly all of Pat’s psychological insight. It’s a book about mental illness, for goodness sake, the film was destined to fall flat from the start. If the loss of insight into Pat’s mind wasn’t bad enough, the film seemed scared to really commit to depicting Pat and Tiffany as people who are truly struggling with mental illness. Silver Linings Playbook works hard to make them seem a little off without making them full blown crazy. As I mentioned, a large part of the novel’s charm is that it fully fleshes out Pat’s severe mental illness without sugar coating anything while also making Pat’s mental processes seem almost logical. I really wanted to see the film delve into Pat’s psyche and I think there was a lot of opportunity for creative exploration and stylistic experimentation in conveying Pat’s mental state but the film didn’t really try. There were a few moments where the film almost gave me what I wanted, like when Pat recounts walking in on Nikki and another man and how that triggered his mental breakdown. Pat narrates the memory and we experience him reliving it verbally while seeing the memories. The images are shaky, shot with a handheld, and jump cut to evoke the hysterical moment and the frantic passage of time as Pat rushes to find his wife with another man. The camera inhibits Pat’s point of view as he frantically discovers this shock but then the image cuts back to Dr. Patel’s office before we see Pat’s breakdown. We see the trigger but not the reaction that got him locked away, and that just seem fair. The film is afraid to show us the crazy.  

            The first third of the novel takes place in the mental institution as Pat waits to get out and a large part of the story arc is that a) Pat has no idea how long he was in the mental hospital because he has repressed it, b) he does not remember Nikki cheating on him, which is the incident that trigged his mental collapse and c) that Nikki never comes back despite Pat’s desperate belief that she will. Matthew Quick’s Pat is deranged, delusional; David O. Russell’s Pat is quirky and has a little baggage. I think the film is too afraid to commit to portraying real, cold, hard mental illness; it allows Nikki to come to the dance performance, validating Pat instead of forcing him to admit that it his obsession with reuniting with Nikki is a delusion like he has to in the novel. I get that that’s a dark topic but I think it could have been handled with taste and still with an air of comedy instead of trying to force the issue of mental illness into a formulaic rom-com mold.

Stylistically, there are moments where it really seemed like the film was trying to experiment, trying to do new things. For example, Russell worked a lot with spaces and I noticed attempts to avoid shot-reverse-shot in favor of more explorative camera work during conversations. Another stylized camera moment is when a police officer shows up to Pat’s house and the camera does what one critic called a ‘Dash Milhok’ on the police officer, rapid zooming on his face the moment the door opens and then quickly cuts to his badge, then his nametag, and back out to a medium shot. I would have liked to see more of this experimentation, particularly used in a more psychological way.

Give me more crazy

One aspect of the film that I actually enjoyed was its use of music. The soundtrack felt very rich to me and even though it is a rom-com, I felt like Silver Linings Playbook had more music in it than a typical rom-com. There were a few times where the music merely provided an excuse for a cheese-y montage (i.e. the workout montage, the coming home from the hospital montage, the dance studio montage), which I could have used a little less of. There were also moments though, like in Dr. Patel’s office when the Kenny G. song plays and outside the diner where Pat hears the song again, where the film seemed to be using the music for a greater purpose than simply to manipulate our emotions. Here the film plays with the divide between diegetic/nondiegetic to evoke moments of confusion in the viewer where we don’t know if the music is non-diegetic, diegetic but only in Pat’s mind, or actually emanating from a diegetic source within the scene. Outside the diner, Pat is hysterical and we hear the song; it appears to be diegetic but we’re not sure if it’s playing outside or just in Pat’s head. Then Tiffany tells him “There’s no song” and the song cuts, suggesting the song was indeed a figment of Pat’s hysteria. These were moments I wanted to see more of, where the audience feels Pat’s confusion and mental illness with him rather than just witnessing it from a distance. The Kenny G. was such a huge trigger for Pat in the novel and I think the film could’ve capitalized on it more though—if I recall correctly, the Kenny G. song that he hears when he walks in on his wife with the history teacher can barely be heard, despite the fact that it is this HUGE mental trigger for him. I really wanted to be berated by that song, I wanted it forced down my throat and jammed into my brain repeatedly until it was a trigger for me and I understood Pat’s struggle with the song. But the film didn’t give it to me and is just another example of how the film plays it safe with the psychology in an attempt not to alienate any rom-com enthusiasts.

Zero Dark Thirty (2012)

I’d heard all the hype about Zero Dark Thirty but I knew virtually nothing about it going into the film save that people had been talking a lot about it. I saw it in theatres, a rare occurrence for me, and I can safely say that I’ve never had a movie-going experience like I did for this one. I have a lot of opinions about the film, which I will share below, and I’m allowing myself to be more biased and subjective than normal because I feel very strongly that the controversy and reception of Zero Dark Thirty says a lot about our country and our society.

I think Zero Dark Thirty is very interesting to look at as a pseudo-historical document. I know it’s a fiction film, but it’s based off of elements of the truth. So much of the general public’s conception and education of history is based off of mass media. The prevalence of films, television, and other types of media is transforming how and what we learn about ourselves and the world. In a situation like this, where so much of the details surrounding Bin Laden’s capture were shrouded in secrecy, much of the public’s perception and understanding of the event is bound to be based off of rumor, speculation, and hearsay. Zero Dark Thirty, as of now, seems to be the closest most Americans have come to knowing the truth about what actually happened. It’s interesting to think about how Zero Dark Thirty will function in the future; I can’t help but wonder if, in a couple decades, this film is what kids will be shown in school to learn about what happened after September 11^th as we hunted down Bin Laden

Sound

I knew that Zero Dark Thirty had won the Oscar for Sound Editing and that, together with my own interests in sound, made me really pay attention to the sound design of this film. Given the subject matter and the high-tension action sequences, I was expecting to be bombarded with an overzealous soundtrack that overwhelmed your senses and overtly manipulated your emotions. I was pleasantly surprised at the relatively minimal sound design; I think Zero Dark Thirty was very smart in its approach to sound.

Opening Sequence

First and foremost, the film opens up to a black screen. No titles, no visual at all, just the sound of 911 calls, which we quickly gather are recordings from 9/11. At first, the people in my theatre were stirring and chattering, not realizing that the film had officially begun (because why would a film ever begin with just sound and nothing onscreen, right?). After about a minute, the audience quieted down and people started to pay attention. Another minute in and you could’ve heard a pin drop. Everyone sat rapt, listening to the 911 calls in the darkness.

As someone who is intensely interested in film sound, this was a phenomenally extraordinary moment for me. How many movies can you think of where the visual is completely absent for a significant amount of time, only using sound to capture your attention? It very very rarely, if ever, happens. But for Zero Dark Thirty, it happened and, at least for me, the impact was profound. 9/11 is so fresh in our memories; the wounds have just barely begun to heal. I believe that sound is the most powerful tool cinema has in conveying emotion, and in this case, sound was the best way to touch people. Trauma, especially collective trauma, is such a subjective experience. I’d be willing to guarantee that every American remembers vividly where they were and what they were doing on September 11^th, 2001 when they first heard the news. It’s a collective experience, yes, but each person, each American, experienced September 11^th in their own individual way. It is a collective experience but not a collective memory; everyone has their own distinct memories of the tragedy.

So how do you portray the event visually? We’ve all seen the footage of the planes hitting the towers hundreds, if not thousands, of times. To show that footage would be to just replay what we’ve all seen; conversely, to show us a fictionalized account of someone’s experience of the event would be trite and undoubtedly fall flat. What Kathryn Bigelow did, by opening the film as she did, was remind us of the grief, the panic, the unmitigated terror that we all felt on that day. The sound of the 911 calls stirred up these emotions inside of us and then, with the blank screen, we were allowed to reflect on our own individual memories and project them onto the blank screen. The audio is the common ground linking together everyone’s individual experience. For me at least, the opening had a much larger emotional impact on me than any visual would have been able to produce. I think that this was a distinct moment where the full potential of sound was actualized in a mainstream film, something that I don’t think happens often.

Minimal Background Music

Starting off with that opening, I went into the film with high hopes for the sound and I actually was pleased. The sound design seemed minimal and provided only the necessary dialogue and sounds. The background music was minimal and tasteful. There were a few cases, like in the shots on the bus in London before the bomb exploded, where the music cued me as to what was going on and what to expect. In most cases, though, the music was minimally invasive and did not give away what was about to happen or manipulate me emotionally to expect a certain outcome. One moment that I distinctly noticed this was when the supposed “mole” was driving up to the base and the CIA agents were waiting to find out if he was legitimate or not. The car slowly approaches and there is no music to cue us as to what’s going to happen (although a black cat runs across in front of the car at one point, a subtle clue if you’re paying attention). While you could speculate what was going to happen, we were just as clueless as the CIA agents until the moment when he steps out of the car and the bomb goes off and we realize he was working for the enemy the entire time.

Sound to Amplify Tension

There were other distinct moments in the film in which sound and silence were used to amplify tension and suspense. One such moment takes place when the CIA agents are driving in circles trying to trace Abu Ahmed’s cell phone so they can locate him and figure out what he looks like. The machine they are using to trace his phone emits a beeping sound, which grows louder and more frequent as his cell signal grows stronger the closer he gets. The agents in the car converse some at first, but as they grow closer to locating Abu Ahmed, there is silence in the car. Only the beeping noise of the cell phone tracker is heard. Static silence fills the car (and the theatre) as the beeping increases in frequency and in volume (and amplifies the tension) until the breaking point in which they spot Abu Ahmed in his white SUV and the tension is released.

Sound and Silence

The use of silence and minimal sound was similarly effective in the sequence when the Navy SEAL team raids the compound. There is no dramatic music at all, only the sounds of the SEAL team is they make their way into the compound. Their experience is our experience; the scene unfolds mainly in silence, broken only by the occasional sounds of gun shots or small explosions as a lock is blown off a door. Though the men speak to each other occasionally, it is infrequently and we are forced to live out the experience mostly in tense silence as they creep farther into the compound until the moment when they shoot Bin Laden, upon which the men speak freely and we are released from the tension created by the silence.

External Controversy: Depctions of Torture

Zero Dark Thirty is fascinating to me in and of itself, but the external controversy surrounding the film further amplified my interest in the film. After leaving the theatre, I read articles online for upwards of three hours about the controversy surrounding the film’s depiction of torture. I think that the people who are all up-in-arms and outraged by the torture scenes, claiming that the film glorifies torture, are obtuse and misguided. The film does show brutal torture scenes, yes, but glorify it? I don’t think it does. First, the film shows moments in which torture is both successful and unsuccessful; the London terrorist attack occurs because the torture used on Ammar fails to produce the information needed to prevent it. If the film only showed successful moments of torture, I think you could argue more easily that it condones it.

Secondly, we can’t deny that torture  (or “enhanced interrogation techniques”) is a part of our history. The Abu Ghraib pictures are a testament to that. The story of the film exists in a period of change in which the use of torture was changing as well. Waterboarding really did happen during Bush’s time as President but eventually measures were taken against waterboarding. Obama went further and spoke out against using these controversial “interrogation methods” on prisoners. This all really happened, and the film reflects this changing landscape. The footage of Obama speaking out against torture is featured in the film, as well as moments where the characters discuss how their current techniques are no longer acceptable, as when Dan acknowledges, “You don’t want to be the last one caught with a dog collar in your hand”. The film reflects a period of change in the U.S. and to leave out the torture completely would be both dishonest and cowardly.

Thirdly, the ending of the film is left ambiguous; it is not a happy ending. I think if Bigelow had ended by showing the celebration that took place after news of Bin Laden’s death got out, the film would have made a stronger statement about the efficacy of torture; a “happy ending” would have made it seem more like the ends justifies the means. However, in the ending, the film seems to acknowledge the emotional complexity surrounding the series of events. Maya’s behavior on the plane home suggests this; the very thing that she had been striving to accomplish for 12 years was finally completed, but it was not a happy moment. I think the film does a good job of conveying that, even though the mission to kill Bin Laden was ultimately successful, this whole period of time for America was a dark time and something that weighs heavy on everyone’s hearts. Horrible things had to happen along the way and they all got us to where we are today, but that doesn’t mean that what we did was necessarily right or ethical or that the film is in any way celebrating those horrible things.

Zero Dark Thirty and America

I think the controversy surrounding Zero Dark Thirty is very indicative of many of the things that are wrong with America. We love to be patriotic and celebrate the heroes, the victories, the successes, the things that make America look great. But we, as a country, don’t like to look at the ugly. We can’t confront the things that we did that make us look bad. We like to ignore the mistakes we made and sugar coat the nasty things we had to do on our way to achieving victory. This is why the history textbooks skip over the bad stuff; that’s why we learn in school that Christopher Columbus was a hero who founded our country rather than the fact that he brutally murdered Native Americans and gave everyone syphilis. I get that sometimes it’s hard to deal with the truth, but sometimes it seems as if we don’t even want to know the truth.

America is disillusioned, preferring to live in a state of denial rather than face the ugly truth. Maybe that’s what has to happen to not grow weary and hopeless in a world where so much of what goes on is horrific and ugly. Maybe we have to lie to ourselves so we don’t lose faith in our country, in humanity, in ourselves. I don’t know what the answer is, but I do believe that we have to get better at facing the bad in our history in order to make the future better. To live in denial is to limit how much we learn from our mistakes. Not to mention how stupid we look to everyone else in the world when we commit all these atrocities and then refuse to acknowledge them as a country, instead pretending that all is beautiful and happy when it is not and teaching our kids that America can do no wrong when we so obviously can, and frequently do, do wrong.

All I’m saying is we need to get better at being critical of ourselves. Perhaps that will come in time. Zero Dark Thirty, in both content and the circumstances surrounding its production and reception, reminds me a lot of The Battle of Algiers. Both films are brutally frank in their depictions of the (arguably necessary) horrors and atrocities of war. Both films were controversial in their time. I know The Battle of Algiers was completely banned in France for something like seven years after the film was released internationally. France needed time before they could confront what happened in Algiers. Eventually they were able to accept what they did in Algiers, but it took time. I know I’m generalizing a lot, but you get the gist. Zero Dark Thirty  focuses on events that are so supremely fresh in our minds and memories; to some extent, it’s understandable that we can’t fully deal with it yet. Perhaps in a decade, Americans will be able to look at this film objectively and accept that we as a country did terrible things along the way but that it’s all a part of our history and  we need to look towards the future and not dwell on the past.

 

PS- Here’s an interesting article that talks about Battle of Algiers and Zero Dark Thirty, if anyone is interested

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bruce-hoffman/zero-dark-thirty-terrorism_b_2421874.html