A Troubling Tale

                     A Scanner Darkly, by Richard Linklater

Alas, I completed the viewing of "A Scanner Darkly".  It took me a few years to commit to watching it. I’m not sure I chose the best night as I am currently living in a guesthouse in the middle of the woods and this is definitely a dark film.

I am left with a feeling of perplexed disbelief and a hint of shock. As I leave the credits run before my eyes, I am unable to see the words. I feel hypnotized and consumed by what I just saw.  

It was definitely one of those mind-twisting plots that deserve a certain amount of contemplation. I remember seeing “Waking Life” (also a Lanklater work of art), twice even, and it didn’t affect me nearly as much as “A Scanner Darkly” did. I remember feeling a tad bit of motion-sickness due to the “Rotoshop” effect (hand drawn effect over each shot, it makes the film look hazy and dreamlike), but “A Scanner Darkly” truly turned my stomach upside down not only for it’s visuals but for it’s multiple hidden meanings.

Keanu Reeves plays Bob Arctor 

The film’s official Genre is Sci Fi – of which I have never really been a fan. I prefer to watch (the same goes for reading) documentaries, or films based on a real event, as I find it to be a more valid excuse to learn from what you see. But “A Scanner Darkly”, is no just a random Sci Fi, it’s a universal story about the politics between drug addiction and the government. Themes such as substance addiction, government response to drug-abuse, government hypocrisy, are all present in the film. The “fictional drug” (called Substance D) is a metaphor for all kinds of mind altering and addictive substances. There is a high critic of today’s world, in the style of “Big Brother is Watching You”:

“What does a scanner see? Into the head? Down into the heart? Does it see into me? Into us? Clearly or darkly? I hope it sees clearly because I can't any longer see into myself. I see only murk. I hope for everyone's sake the scanners do better, because if the scanner sees only darkly the way I do, then I'm cursed and cursed again.”

The scanners are like surveillance cameras. The title of the film is referred to for the first time here. This quote is a critic of the government, even though they observe you, they find more energy in blaming rather than helping. The narrator admits his distress.

“The enemy will never be forgiven. The Enemy was their mistake in playing. Let them play again, in some other way, and let them be happy.”

This is one of the final quotes of the movie. It made a strong impression on me. Philip Kindred Dick admits that the act of using is the “enemy”, but he also has the right to point out that it’s a personal choice. He himself was a victim of amphetamine excess-use. In fact, the character of Arctor appears to have many similar character traits to P.K.D. “A Scanner Darkly” was a piece he wrote during rehab, which was probably a cathartic key to his recovery process. Once more, this movie is far from being a simple Sci Fi. 

“The pain, so unexpected and undeserved had for some reason cleared away the cobwebs. I realized I didn't hate the cabinet door, I hated my life... My house, my family, my backyard, my power mower. Nothing would ever change; nothing new could ever be expected. It had to end, and it did. now in the dark world where I dwell, ugly things, and surprising things, and sometimes little wondrous things, spill out in me constantly, and I can count on nothing.” Arctor refers to his perfect life that he chose to leave for another darker life. He admits the darkness of the state that he’s in. I find this quote to be very truthful (and depressing unfortunately). It’s very close to the “Stepford Wives” crisis, through the male point of view. His character is similar to Lester Burnam in American Beauty, the husband who becomes bored out of his mind, and goes crazy from his “perfect” life in the suburbs.

At the very end of the film, the P. K. D, dedicates his story to many of his friends who suffered physical damage from drug abuse. This brought tears to my eyes – the list is long and we finally see his name appear for the first time.

Where it all Started

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

I recently went to NYU for an open-house event for graduate admitted students in Cinema Studies where I will be starting next fall. One of the students said she liked French Cinema -- what is there not to like? I was pleased and asked her to be more precise. She said she liked the French New Wave films the best. Which ones? "Godard," she replied, emphasizing the pronunciation of the letter 'D'. Truffaut was also mentioned. I felt like I had déjà-vu... Why is it that everyone always says that? I asked her if she could name her favorite Godard movie (and I didn't pronounce the D as you never pronounce consonants at the end of French words). To this she responded “Breathless," which I was expecting all along. Why is it that film nerds are always drawn to prefer foreign films? Is this love genuine, or is it for show?  

I have to admit, one of the first things I did write in my Statement of Purpose when I applied to NYU was “I was, quickly exposed to French new-wave classics; Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jacques Demy were both my first crushes and idols.” I chuckled to myself as I wrote this, and I knew I would get away with it and I did. 

As for the Umbrellas of Cherbourg, I watched it for the first time a few years ago. I was told that it was a movie my grandfather sat through twice at the movie theatre back in the day when they would loop the films. He was a famous French play-write, but he was also sensitive to music and had already written quite a few musicals -- he knew Michel Legrand personally (and other music heroes, and composers such as Georges Van Parys for example). 

To my great dismay, I never met my grandfather, but when the Umbrellas of Cherbourg ended, my heart sank and I couldn’t bring myself to leave the room. I wanted more and most of all, I wanted to discuss the film with my grandfather. My mother had already left the room halfway through the film saying she couldn’t take it and my father had fallen asleep for most of the film. 

Weeks followed, and I couldn't stop talking about the film to everyone. The only people who would respond were my parents and their friends, mostly artists. They seemed to understand where I was coming from. Nobody in high school seemed to care -- it wasn't very cool for a 90s kid. Everyone was talking about "Requiem for a Dream" (which of course I did enjoy, but also made me want to jump out the window), "Fight Club", "Trainspotting", "Memento" -- films that would hit us right in the core of our brains, but we, as teenagers, took a sadistic liking in being affected that way -- they would help feed our teenage rebellion since the subject matters were often drug related, violent, and erotic. 

Some of those films are still my favorite today. But with Jacques Demy's style, I was able to dream again when I watched his films, like a kid watching his first Disneys. For the weeks, and years that followed, I listened and watched his films over and over again. I became addicted, and watched the Umbrellas any chance I could. A friend bought me the audio CD of the entire Umbrellas of Cherbourg, opening credits all the way to the closing scene, the whole film was resonating in my ears, track by track, year by year. I was hungry for it all and always, and I still am today. The Cinemathèque in Paris must have heard my prayers to Demy as they dedicated a whole exhibition to all his work in 2013, where we were able to walk through his magical film kingdom.

“You have to stop living in a fantasy-world,” is a sentence, I definitely heard more than once in my life, but why would I want to give it up when I have the bright blue DVD case of the Umbrellas of Cherbourg, the pink Young Girls of Rochefort, and the purple Peau D’Ane, only an arm-reach away on my book shelves on top of my desk -- It would be hell not to have the opportunity to use and abuse them for ever and ever.