Bicentennial Man

MY HEART

One of my clearest, surest memories of my dad, growing up, was the movie Bicentennial Man. As far as I can remember, my mum didn't like it, but my dad loved it, so he and I used watch it together fairly often. And that's cool, it's only a PG, as a child I was well within reason to watch it, but as a result of this exposure, I have an emotional connection to this film as intense as any other childhood movie- and I get very intensely emotional about anything from my childhood. 

Anyway, I watched Bicentennial Man last week for the first time in probably nine years. Even though I was a child when I watched it- and to be honest it's quite an adult film, thematically- I still remembered the entire plot from start to finish, even including some specific lines of dialogue; which is a testament to just how frequently I watched when I was younger. Even though it's generally poorly received by critics, I think Bicentennial Man is a wonderful film, exploring deep-seated desires, fears and ethics experienced by all people, and, evidently, certain machines. I also think that this film is the root of my extreme emotional empathy with robots, responsible for feelings- often to the point of tears- for even antagonistic robots (There's a reason Blade Runner is my favourite movie, and Deckard definitely isn't that reason).

It should be mentioned that Bicentennial Man is based on a novel written by Isaac Asimov, who wrote several stories about robots- and its written origins become obvious in the film when, near the beginning, Andrew quotes Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics. I'm ashamed to admit that I haven't actually read the novel, which isn't something that happens often, because I almost always try to read the book before I watch the film, if I'm aware that it's based on a book (this being the reason I haven't seen The Great Gatsby). I really want to familiarise myself with Asimov's work, because I love robots so much, but I still haven't gotten around to it. Maybe over summer... I'm just going to briefly mention that this is one of two films based on Asimov's work that I've seen, the other being I, Robot. And, whilst the latter was a bigger commercial hit and is more popular, I definitely think Bicentennial Man is the better picture. Everything about it is better; the acting, the music, the cinematography, the lack of ridiculously gratuitous product placement- low blow, I know, but it's so grating- except for the special effects, but it remains true that Bicentennial Man tells the story it sets out to tell very effectively without jaw-dropping scenery and over-the-top CGI.

So! The film. I might even say that Bicentennial Man is one of my favourite films, because I think the storyline is really sweet, and well written. I think that Andrew's journey is relatable, to an extent, and empowering in a strange way? Like, even before he begins his transformational journey, he tries to better himself in every way possible, learning multiple languages and teaching himself carpentry; and I think that's a message that a lot of people should note- hobbies and intellectual pursuits are beneficial, even if the creative outlet is just a mediocre film blog (wink wink).

IN ADDITION, the acting is brilliant. This is probably Robin Williams at his finest, a comedic performance with serious undertones akin to Mrs Doubtfire. He carries the character through so many changes, yet maintains a constant characterisation, so that the audience's identification with the character also remains. The relationships depicted are mostly believable, and sweet after explanation. Initially, the I'm-in-love-with-the-great-granddaughter-of-my-master thing is a little weird, but the exploration of their relationship makes it more believable and trustworthy.

I think that the majority of the characters in the film are well-written, no matter how small their part. Even the president, seen only at the very end of the film, is well executed. Rupert Burns, the technician, is a great character, expositionally, comedically and for story development, and makes a good scene partner for Andrew, effectively representing the audience. And I'm just going to throw in that, as unimportant as Galatea, the female robot, is, I love her character- she's the namesake for several flashdrives and my iPhone- and the small aside reveal at the end that she, too, is somewhere along the journey to humanity gets me every time. These goddamn robots.

There's probably a bunch of stuff I want to say and have forgotten to mention, but the gist of my opinions on Bicentennial Man are: brilliant robots, good story, heart-wrenching ending... maybe cast Embeth Davidtz in slightly fewer roles? "The looks skip a generation" is great and all, but no granddaughter is completely identical to their grandmother, I mean really. Other than that, though, good job, Chris Columbus! There are tears e v e r y w h e r e.

Thelma & Louise

SUCH BADASSES

I've had a post about Thelma & Louise saved in my drafts since January. Around January, I started to get slightly snowed under with uni assignments, and also I'm just a very lazy person, so I never bothered to finish writing the blog post. But hey, it's never too late!

(edit: this post seemed much longer while I was writing it. They'll get longer, don't worry)

While I was walking to the train station this morning, on my way to pick up my laptop from its repair (turns out laptops don't like having pepsi spilled on them, who knew?) The Ballad of Lucy Jordan, by Marianne Faithfull, started playing. The first thing I think of whenever I hear this song is Thelma & Louise, and the simultaneous senses of hopelessness and possibility that both the song and the film evoke.  Bear in mind I'm writing this blog post not having watched the film in about 5 months, so I may be a little rusty, but I have seen it many, many times...

Thelma & Louise is one of my all-time favourite films. This is true for many reasons, not least of which is that it's directed by Ridley Scott, who is one of my absolute favourite directors (I'm a bit of a broken record when it comes to this topic) and, as usual, he takes on a project that many others would produce generic, sub-par drama from and creates a visually stunning, emotionally poignant and timelessly resonating film. The dramatic performances from both Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis (incidentally, both nominated for the Best Actress Oscar for their roles in this film) are incredible; realistic, convincing, funny and emotional all at the same time. And they really sell those southern accents. 

As can be expected with Ridley Scott at the helm- even those who dislike him agree that he emphasises visuals-, Thelma & Louise is visually beautiful. Not as obviously and outrightly stunning, like Prometheus or Blade Runner; if these films are supermodels, Thelma & Louise is the girl-next-door. That convoluted analogy is my way of saying that, out of the mundane American landscape, Scott managed to capture its unlikely beauty, from sweeping shots of oil rigs to tracking shots of a mini aircraft watering a field. His long panoramic sweep of the mountain ranges and desert-like environment really help position both the characters and audience, and makes identifying with the characters easy. 

One thing I really like about Thelma & Louise is its themes and conventions- the two lead characters, both women, play out different roles throughout the course of the movie; they act as mother and daughter, sisters, and the dominance in the relationship switches throughout, which makes for an interesting, varied narrative. Some critics have complained that the film is too harsh on men and portray them stereotypically, which very much feels like a first-world complaint, because these same complaints from women are often ignored and muted. However, I would argue that whilst the majority of the male characters may be unpleasant, they are all examples of the types of people that do exist in the world, and women deal with every day. This film simply sheds light on the world from a female perspective, which I think is very interesting.

I could seriously write forever about this film, but I want to wrap this up fairly soon, before it turns into an essay. I'll finish off by saying that, however much I love the acting and directing, I think my favourite thing about this film is the writing. It would have been very easy to write Thelma and Louise simply as criminals, on the run, in a similar fashion to Bonnie and Clyde, or at least have them lose some sense of morality once they were fugitives. It's true that Thelma carries out armed robbery towards the end of the film, but it's clear that she wouldn't have actually injured anyone, and the only reason she did it at all is because they needed money. It is made clear to the audience that they retain their morals and ethics the entire time, and I think that's admirable. Also, just little things like Louise stepping out of the car at night while Thelma sleeps and just, staring into the starry horizon, reflecting on her life. Little things like that, dotted throughout the film, are what provide its humanity and realism, and what add up to make it one of my favourite films.