This is a lengthy piece about comparing Lost in Translation with Kill Bill. I try two basic ways a film can connect with us, using these films as archtypes.
Most of pop culture can be described with continuums. For instance, pop music ranges from the almost completely instrumental to almost completely lyrical. Movies range from being driven by narrative (think Pride and Prejudice) to completely driven by action (think Speed). In a continuum that maybe transcends all pop art forms there are things that evoke a complex emotion in you (like joy or sorrow) and things that create a basic feeling (fear, anger, lust).
But aren’t these things two names for the same thing? I don’t think so. One can draw a distinction between the two. Emotions are learned. For example I can’t really understand joy until I have experience it through a degree of awareness of the outside world and myself. Feelings, on the other hand, are instinctual. A baby fears a loud noise without knowing why because feelings precede understanding. Feelings are the basis for our emotion, they’re what our emotions flow out of. This is not to say that one is better than the other, just to offer up categories for how to watch a movie.
Two movies of note for this fall season fit neatly into this discussion. One, Ms. Soffia Copolla’s Lost in Translation is a movie that is almost wholly directed towards engendering an emotional response from its audience. It does this to the point that even the story becomes a foil for delivering a particular emotion.
Lost in Translation is a movie about longing, and truly knowing somebody, for a brief time. Bill Murray is an action movie star that has been persuaded to visit Tokyo for a one week, two million dollar advertising shoot. The captivating Scarlett Johannson plays a young woman fresh out of college, married to a photographer working in Japan.
From the outset of the movie both of these characters aren’t exactly thrilled to be in Tokyo. In fact their imprisonment in the oppressively foreign Tokyo Hyatt is a metaphor for the larger captivity life is to these two. Bill Murray finds his wife’s attentions moving away from him and towards the mundane (interior decoration options, the rigmarole of child management). This in turn doesn’t exactly spark passionate love in Murray’s heart. Scarlett Jonhannson, looking across the hotel-room bed at her spouse, sees a man that seems more like a stranger every day.
Initially the characters struggle with insomnia coupled with profound feelings of isolation. As unable to communicate with the people speaking Japanese around them as they are able to connect with others, both characters feel seriously isolated in life. Yet as isolated and alone as they are, both characters share a marriage with a person that they don’t really feel connected. In short, the opening scenes of the movie show us two characters that are verging on internal death, a life based on going through the motions, and not living through the heart. As I watch this movie, that is the message that I get over and over again, the setting of Japan, and its alien ways just forms a great backdrop feeling both Johansson and Murray’s character’s pain.
And then something beautiful happens. Murray and Johannson meet, and come to know each other. They connect, things open up inside them, words unspoken become said. The connection that we see unfolding on screen before us is called love. But it is love that shouldn’t be. Twenty years and two wedding bands separate these two.
Lost in Translation quickly becomes a movie about not just isolation, but longing. Longing is definitely an emotion. I only knew longing after wanting something dangling in front of my face that I couldn’t have. Fitting well with its overall aim, the story and settings of the movie quickly become secondary to the rising knot in your gut as you watch the characters move towards resolving their situation.
On the other hand, Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill Volume 1 is a movie that resides almost entirely in the realm of feelings. One film critic described Kill Bill Volume 1 as the most violent film ever made by an American film studio. They may be right. Tarantino seems to thrive on making these post-modern send-ups to old genre films that take the conventions of the genre to the extent of absurdity. Reservoir Dogs and the heist/gangster movie, Jackie Brown and Blaxploitation, in Kill Bill Volume 1 we see Tarantino’s all out tribute to the Kung Fu action flick. And since it is an action flick, Tarantino reprises his trademark style by making it as violent as can be.
Uma Thurman plays a woman who lived for a time as a member of the Deadly Vipers Assassination Squad. Pregnant, she tries to get married, only to have the other members of the squad burst into the ceremony, kill the rest of the wedding party, and put a bullet in her head. But Uma doesn’t die, rather she enters a deep coma, and wakes up 4 years later in a hospital bed, without her child, and with a hulking redneck standing over her, having just paid to have sex with her comatose self.
Uma escapes the hospital and goes out on the warpath, intending to kill the remaining five Deadly Vipers, especially their leader Bill. What ensues is about one and a half hours of carnage. This is not carnage like Saving Private Ryan, or carnage like Friday the 13th. This is the carnage that only an extremely sharp samurai sword is capable of generating. Limbs fly off bodies almost faster than the camera can track it. Stumps on shoulders gush gallons of pink blood.
Yet this movie is not just a gore fest. It’s as much a presentation as it is a depiction. Tarantino wows the audience with his camera work, his musical flavoring, and the sheer brilliant gimmickry that he uses to tell his story. One can watch this movie as an exercise in style, where the choreography of evisceration becomes a beautiful symphony of cinematic construction.
But that’s probably not what will happen. While Tarantino does dare the viewer of his film to separate themselves from the violence and see just the construction, it’s really too hard when you see this constant parade of violence, especially when Tarantino makes special effort to insert these scenes that tell the viewer to feel bad about the violence one sees.
If there is an emotional connection to be made here, it isn’t even revenge. We are purposefully not told why the Deadly Vipers rained on her parade. All we really see for sure is her anger, and because of her anger, her power. And on a basic level, this anger is all we really feel. We imagine what it would be like to be angry like her and to be able to act out on our anger with such ease. And this anger is something that we feel not from empathy, like the longing in Lost in Translation. Anger is something that is instinctual within us. It’s primal.
Neither of these two types of connection are necessarily better than the other. But in this particular case I really want to distinguish the two. But first, let me offer us another continuum. There are movies on one end that try to teach us something about mankind in general, and on the other end there are movies that try to teach us just something about ourselves. Horror movies, for instance, you’re not really pushed to understand the sex-starved teen being cut up, you’re pushed towards understanding the fear in yourself.
When you watch a movie like Lost in Translation and feel an emotional connection with the character because of common understanding, you in turn make an emotional connection with all people that have felt the same thing. This is done without actually imagining yourself as the character, but just by seeing yourself in their experience. This is not escapist fantasy, where you imagine yourself as that person, in order to escape the reality of life. Kung-Fu movies like Kill Bill Volume 1 usually get placed in the escapist category. You imagine yourself as this insanely potent Kung-Fu master, capable of dishing out extreme punishment to whoever crosses you.
Now I want to give Kill Bill Volume 1 more credit than the label of escapism. Kill Bill Volume 1 starts in the context of escapism, but quickly becomes so bloody that it challenges you to think about why you come to see violent Kung-Fu movies in the first place for escape. In this sense, Kill Bill Volume 1 is at its best a movie about what we as individuals get from violent content. But this interpretation is one that I get as a filmgoer. Who knows if that is actually Tarantino’s intention, his insertion of things that make us feel guilty about enjoying the carnage on screen could just be pure perversity. We’ll probably have a better idea once we see the second, and final installment to the series, Volume 2.
As Christians we are called to identify with others, to be compassionate with them. Literature and film perform a great service to us by pushing us to identify with humanity. A movie like Lost in Translation is a great example of this happening. I have already watched it twice at theatres and I suspect that each consecutive time I watch it I will feel the yearning of isolation and the longing of love over and over again, and in that emotional reaction, I will see how everyone, to one extent or another feels this same thing too.
One the other side, when I, as a Christian watch Kill Bill Volume 1, at the best I totally isolate myself from the very content of the movie, and just appreciate the craft of its maker. But more often that not, the best thing that I would get out of it would be this chastisement that I derive pleasure from the carnage of the escapist action film as it is depicted in all its absurdity here. The lesson from Kill Bill Volume 1 is so self-centered, that it just pales in comparison for me to something like Lost in Translation.
You are dead-on when you label Lost in Translation as a narrative-driven film meant to evoke a specific emotion--that of longing. And yes, it does an exquisite job of acomplishing its aim.
However, I must disagree with your characterization of Kill Bill as a feeling-oriented, action-driven film evoking thoughts of anger and power. In your longing to find two films that 'fit neatly' into your discussion about continuums in film, you have done Kill Bill an injustice by pigeonholing it where it quite simply does not belong.
You write Tarantino's most recent work off as calculated to engender feelings of anger or power in those whoe see it. "All we really see for sure is her anger, and because of her anger, her power." While it is true that Uma Thurman's character is a rather angry individual, we see a great deal more than that. We are given a narrative, a revenge tale of epic proportions. The Bride (as she is billed in the credits) has been tragically wronged. All of her loved ones are dead, including her unborn child, and four years of her life have been lost. While we do not know the exact motives of the perpetrators, we know who they were, and we know that they are very much in the wrong. In a truly moving scene, we see the Bride's genuine grief as she wakes to find herself childless and alone. While it is possible that the narrative tends to fall a bit out of focus due to Tarantino's Pulp Fictionesque moments, such as those to be found on either side of the Bride's awakening, and his proclivity for a chronologically mangled sequence of events, it is very much present. Perhaps we cannot truly empathize with the Bride, but surely we can sympathize. Kill Bill is not like Lost in Translation, emphasizing narrative and emotion through lack of action, but a film with an excellent narrative complemented by beautifully constructed action.
Posted by: Eb at November 4, 2003 8:35 PMEb,
You really can't assert that we ought to sympathize with Bride until we know why they put the hit on her. Even if we find out in the second installment that she was, it still remains the case that Vol. 1 has no emotional grounding, which is exemplary of my point.
To expand further, it would be really impractical to take away any causal reason for Bride's behavior, but I would assert that Kill Bill is movie that minimizes the justification of Bride's anger in favor of the expression of anger itself.
Posted by: matt at November 4, 2003 11:30 PMNo, Eb, we don't know that the assassins are "very much in the wrong." In fact, we know nothing of the sort. For all we know, they were getting their revenge when they took her out on her wedding day. We don't know what she's done. Maybe she betrayed them first. There is some suggestion in the first fight scene that this might not be the case, but face it: we don't actually know. Assumming that the Bride is vindicated moves beyond the realm of reading into the film and into the realm of pure fabrication.
And no, it doesn't have an "excellent narrative." If anything, the narrative is overly stylized if not downright forced. The action certainly is "beautifully constructed," I'll give you that, but the movie barely has a narrative at all. It is most certainly not a "revenge tale of epic proportions"; it barely has proportions. Even The Matrix: Reloaded had a better ratio of dialog to action.
I think Tarantino's use of homage is a telling symptom for the rest of the film. There are dozens of homages, in everything from style to images to quotes. I'll bet I didn't even catch a quarter of them. But in all of them, at least the ones I noticed, he wasn't trying to bring content from other films into his own film. No, he was just trying to reference as much coolness as he could. Which makes him, not profound, but a geek. Okay, Quentin, I'm more than ready to grant you your overwhelming knowledge of film errata. That doesn't excuse you from actually writing a story.
If Tarantino is trying to say anything by his use of what can only be described as excessive violence, it has to do with the fact that people like it. That would be entirely subtextual, but I'm willing to at least admit the possibility. However, given the rest of his filmography, I'm far more convinced that the reason we get so many decapitations is that because cutting people's heads off is supposed to be cool. Frankly, I could do without that particular sentiment.
Posted by: ryan at November 4, 2003 11:50 PMOkay, so objectively we don't know the assassins are very much in the wrong, but seeing as the movie obviously expects us to side with the Bride, of course they are. And Ryan, how dare you compare the dialog in Kill Bill to the dialog in Matrix: Reloaded. The dialog in Kill Bill, while I can't decide how worthwhile it is, it excellently spoken and beautifully worked into the film. Some of the dialog in Matrix: Reloaded is spoken by Keanu Reeves, no grounds for comparison here.
But, as for Kill Bill itself, I'm wondering about this anger. The first thing we see in the movie is a quote that says "Revenge is a dish best served cold." A little later we see another quote that suggests the idea that a stoic lack of emotion is necessary for combat. I don't know if we ever see the Bride take an action out of pure anger. It all seems quite well planned. I think this makes it better. It's definately less primal, less impulsive.
I think that Kill Bill is one of the most beautiful films I've seen in a long time. Even the violence is beautiful, the rich red of blood on a white background (this red on white idea is repeated throughout the film, often in art and decoration), the balletic moves that move the characters into position for a kill. This is not carnage, this is song and dance. Funny as it seems, Kill Bill actually reminded me of Chicago, another beautiful movie I've seen this year. Both of these films are about women who are killers. In Chicago, however, the women are more motivated by selfishness and primal emotions. And the soundtrack isn't half as good.
Everyone keeps talking about "coolness" and "style," I think Kill Bill is more than that. It is a beautiful creation, a kind of epic haiku to borrow a phrase one of my friends used to describe it.
Posted by: linnea at November 5, 2003 1:15 AMThe assertion has been made that we do not know if the Bride's attackers are in the wrong. While I agree that the suggestion of guilt made by Vernita Green in the first scene isn't enough, you neglect the scene in which Budd says 'And we deserve to die for what we have done.' Seems pretty conclusive to me. And as for your dialogue-to-action ratio accusation, Linnea has an excellent point. Quantity is far from analogous to quality.
Posted by: Eb at November 5, 2003 2:21 PMI was watching "Versus," a Japanese yakuza-vs.-the-undead movie that appeared to have been made on a budget of 35 cents. Midway through the film, the gun-toting hero is confronted by his woman, who urges him not to take revenge on an unarmed mobster.
"If you kill him," she pleads, "you'll be no different from them."
"There's a big difference," he replies. "They're bastards."
In almost every action movie I've seen in the last ten years, this distinction is made. The bad guys kill at will. The good guys kill at will. The difference: the bad guys are bastards. I don't see "Kill Bill" as much of an exception, whatever Vernita Green says or doesn't say.
Posted by: mesh at November 5, 2003 2:46 PMGeez...not sure where to begin:
Eb, I think you misunderstand Matt when he talks about Kill Bill being designed by QT to envoked feelings of anger. I think, and Matt you'll hafta correct me if I'm wrong, that what Matt was saying is that Kill Bill is meant to give an fairly constant stream of visceral punch. You're supposed to "feel" all along the way "oooo ya, kick some ass, uh, ya, slash, bash, bang". Like in highschool when you watch a good brawl. You wanna see some ass kicked.
Unfortunately though, and I think QT had to do this to a tiny extent, the American psychi still needs a little moral justification for it's violence. So QT gives you that, more or less. He doesn't give you much, but just enough to forgive him the pointless, violence-escapades he really wants to take you on (while of course constantly referencing via soundtrack & scenes his favorite kung-fu movies).
So to me the issue of the justification of Thurman's actions aren't really the point. There certainly isn't any clarity in the film whether or not they're justified, and I don't think Tarantino cares, he certainly hasn't professed to in a single one of his interviews about the film. Given his intent, it's hard to see why the film is, at all, other than incidentally, a movie about revenge/justice.
But it does kinda scare me that folks can cruise in and watch the movie and feel like "dang, that was a beautiful movie, with some awesome justice-motivated action bla bla bla." Makes me wonder just how shallow our thinking & sensibilities ARE about justice & revenge. You certainly can't call them nuanced.
And finally, it seems hard for me to see a "way out" for those of you who might wanna see something deeper & more beautiful in Kill Bill if you're going to allow authorial intent into the critique. Tarentino is a Gen X geek. It's all about mountains and mountains of irony & coolness & constant references packed with sub-references.
It doesn't mean it isn't cool, it just means it's got no soul.
Posted by: JosiahQ at November 5, 2003 4:05 PMJosiah your assumptions are correct. My point about the whole revenge/pure anger plot is that it doesn't really matter, they're mere bookends, decorative, necessary to hold the movie together, but they really don't have anything to do with the content in between.
And still Eb, your Budd quote doesn't mean much. He could just as easily be saying that because he feels he deserves death for his life of violence, and who better that someone who he thought he took part in doingd in, but mistakenly didn't. Granted, this is maybe not the most plausible guess, but the mere fact that it is possible shows how little care Tarentino has taken in grounding his narrative in justification.
Posted by: matt at November 5, 2003 4:20 PMEb: Of course Bill and his cohorts deserve to die for what they've done. They're assassins for crying out loud. You will not, however, find any concrete linkage between their deserving to die and what they did to the Bride. The movie isn't nearly that morally transparent. You might be able to argue that it's a legitimate interpretation, but it's definitely something you added yourself, not something that was already there.
Linnea: I'll admit the movie has good visuals. So does The Ring, but that doesn't make it a good movie either. And I knew what I was doing when I compared Kill Bill to Reloaded. Both are movies with overly drawn-out action scenes punctuated by cliched dialog that largely fails to advance the story. The fact that Reloaded blew chunks doesn't change anything.
At this point I've heard several people offer the opinion that Kill Bill is "beautiful." Thus far, Linnea is the only person I've come across that can give anything like a reason for thinking so, and her reason has to do with the visuals, not the content. Josiah seems to be right. Just because the movie is cool doesn't mean it's good. And Linnea, if there's more to it than that, feel free to point it out. The problem with saying it's like haiku is that no one actually gets haiku, which is actually the whole point: using a bare minimum of content to point to the beauty of nothingness. Which would be okay, but doesn't seem to be the conclusion you want to reach.
Posted by: ryan at November 5, 2003 4:28 PMIt's like Denby said, you leave the movie...feeling nothing, except mebbe adrenaline. Not to be a cynical prick (like I aint), but I've got serious concerns if you DO leave the movie feeling something beyond mere adrenaline.
It's like Steele being into Creed.
Posted by: JosiahQ at November 5, 2003 11:45 PMWho says I'm into Creed? Sheesh, if you're going to take a swipe at my musical taste at least swipe at Linkin Park or Evanescence. . .that way you can criticize me for stuff I actually listen to.
As for the movie, I really liked it. I think Linnea has the right idea with her thoughts on visual beauty. The whole film is full of it, even the action sequences. Its all stylish and flashy, but without the aid of super-intense visual effects (a la Matrix). I think its because its lacking special effects that it is such a gruesome movie. I've heard many people comment on limbs flying around, but no one has mentioned the scene where she smashed Buck's head in the door. I don't know about all of you, but that scene almost killed me. I could handle all the hacking and chopping because it was blatantly false, but the head-in-door scene made me cringe quite a bit because it was so real.
As far as critques on the story. . .I'm going to wait until I've seen part two before I pass judgement on it.
Posted by: steele at November 19, 2003 1:53 PM