Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Equilibrium (2002) - Directed by Kurt Wimmer

In a Fascist future where all forms of feeling are illegal, a man in charge of enforcing the law rises to overthrow the system.

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The first time I saw this movie, I was amazed by the kick ass fight scenes and the size of Christian Bale's biceps; I kid you not. The second time I saw this movie, I rushed to IMDB.com to see if anybody else felt as passionately about it as I did -- I was met with mixed results. This is one of those movies where you won't enjoy it if you have to focus on suspending your disbelief; you just have to take it at face value and not wonder about the science behind a drug that can suppress human emotion or the incredible geometry of the fight scenes.

Equilibrium is a movie about humans fighting to regain the right to feel; but you won't have to look hard beneath the surface to uncover it's jabs about depression medication such as prozac and librium. Especially not with a city named Libria who's inhabitants are doped up on a drug called Prozium which turns them into emotionally suppressed zombies -- all except for the hierarchy, who are emotionally suppressed fighting machines. In Libria's world, medication prevents the idea of ever having to suffer through another nuclear war (because by their time, WWIII has come and gone). They are bent on destroying emotion triggers, such as music, paintings, art, and especially books. If you look at how many people are medicated in our day and age, it's not hard to believe that people might turn to a drug like Prozium to keep them from doing harm to one another.

Throughout the film, Christian Bale's character, John Preston, struggles to overcome Prozium; and once he does, he wants that struggle to be worth something. He wants everyone to see the beauty he sees and the horrors he's witnessed -- because without feeling, what is the point of breathing? As one character says, "it's just a clock ticking down to your death."

Back to prozac and librium, we must assume that based on this movie, people on prozac are suppressing their pain. What's the alternative the movie presents? Therapy. Talk therapy. Because that's how John Preseton makes it through the turmoil -- the more he talks, the more the wool is pulled back from his eyes, the more he is able to appreciate art and books, the more he is moved to tears by a Beethoven record, the more he is able to "do the right thing" -- and the right thing is: defeat the big, bad government who is behind the production of prozac -- I mean prozium.




Edit:
I would like to add some thoughts and comments about the narration and representation of the characters in the film.

An important aspect of the film that I neglected to touch on in my original post is the idea of being a "sense offender". Sense offenders are part of an underground movement in which people cease "taking the dose", or stop their daily intervals of prozium. It is Preston's job as Cleric to destroy contraband (music, books, art, etc.) and to bring offenders in for processing. Processing is really just a neutral term for execution; Father, (like Big Brother from the novel 1984) the leader of the current government, decided that sense offenders must be put to death so as to set an example and keep people from endangering society.

Preston's journey begins by accident: his prozium capsule breaks and he is unable to get a replacement. He begins to feel and claws the coverings off his window to behold the beauty of the sunrise. This is extremely huge for him -- he's never experienced anything like this and runs into the bathroom to try and inject himself with a new dose. When he catches sight of himself in the mirror, he realizes just how ridiculous he looks with an injection gun pointed at his neck.

Moments such as this, which are untraditional in many films because they portray a character's inner struggle, are frequent throughout the film -- but that's why I like it so much! I think the writer knew what he was doing because although film is supposed to show you how a character feels through events, it is still successful if the translation of a character's emotions comes across. This writing is successful because I can easily understand the point of view of the character.

I can understand why he would want to look at footage of his wife's processing which struck him once he realized that his new love interest was about to be sentenced to death because he brought her in for processing.

I can understand why he would rescue a copy of Mother Goose from a sense offender's hide out even though his best friend and fellow Cleric did the exact same thing at the beginning of the film.

I can understand why he would rescue the most adorable little puppy ever from being executed simply because as humans, we see and empathize with the puppy's vulnerability.

I am struck by the power of these moments even though we really should be witnessing events as opposed to moments of character clarity. As a writing major, this makes me question whether or not it's okay to pass up the chance to write a moment like one of these. I say go for it -- especially if it could move an audience the way I was moved.

Then again, Christian Bale is one hell of an actor...

2 comments:

Naima Lowe said...

This is a very astute commentary on the parallels that the film draws to the real world. I wonder how you could connect this analysis to issues of narration within the film? Perhaps a look at how the film reveals the issues, or how the characters shift over the course of the narration?

Unknown said...

Naima, I edited my post to address some of these thoughts.