I’m going to jump-start Mauer–I want to hear what he has to say about this flick.
My own thoughts: certainly it’s recommended. If for no other reason, to see Christian Bale, who couples the stunt starvation with some interesting performance choices. Sure, he’s got the sunken, haunted look down pat, but I was even more surprised by the strange smarmy falsity of his interactions with a waitress who might (or might not) be a romantic interest… it was an odd and off-putting bit of swagger, that seemed way out of keeping with the character–but, like much of the movie, made sense as it went on. (And it reminded me of Nicolas Cage, of lore–the Vampire’s Kiss Cage whose weirdness amplified a film’s potential surreality.) But the flick is also well-structured, well-shot, and always pretty gripping. (Even if not all that surprising, and not as spooky or disruptive as Brad Anderson’s last sort-of-ghost-story, Session 9.)
Back to a long-ago claim about horror, which I’ll try to toss around again. Both of Anderson’s horror (sort-of horror) films deal with the return of the repressed, but the repression not of neat Freudian desires-we-dont’-want-to-recognize, but a more Puritan return of the deeds we’ve done. I made a cheap, casual claim about American horror as generically committed to the horrific return of history repressed. I think these two films–admittedly in more personal than social fashion–illustrate what I was getting at.
Now…. could I make a case that Reznik (Bale) in this film has a personal horror that is nationally-resonant, too? I’m not sure. It might be a stretch, but the main character–as the title indicates–is identified strongly with his job. As a factory worker, but more than that: as the guy who knows the union’s code better than the other guys, who uses it to protect a fellow worker early on against a manager’s desire to work more quickly and efficiently. The film repeatedly returns both to the site of labor and to the social dynamics of the labor force… while Reznik’s horror is ultimately tied to a personal incident, the disruption of the workers’ community is the first strong signal of his life breaking down… and I think there’s something worth pursuing there.
Especially since Anderson’s 9 also deals with personal horrors tied to work and a community of workers…. And both are set in the atmospheric ruins of New England’s manufacturing base….
I’m just rambling, but if I was smarter and this blog counted on my c.v. I might do more. I’m content to throw this out to you all, for now.
Oh, one other thing: is Jennifer Jason Leigh required by industry fiat to be a whore in at least one film a year? I can’t wait ’til she’s in her fifties, returning to the sweet teat of sad-hooker roles while her body sags into Sweet Baby Jane disrepair.
Oh, one more thing: Kris just popped her head in and noted how much Bale in this movie looked like Mauer. Yes–if only he ate more chocolate cake and caramel popcorn, and coughed up a bit more blood, Bale would have been an uncanny return of my own repressed memories of living with that other cadaverous depressive.
But that doesn’t make me the fat bald guy with toes for fingers.
Jump-start me big boy.
It was one of the better depictions me of me on film. I was disappointed that Bale didn’t see fit to go along with some of the character notes I gave him to have Reznick cough up blood or eat baskets of carmel corn.
The carmel corn I guess I can understand… It’s tough for some people to understand that you can live on a diet of Snickers bars and cookies and still have that fashionable Dachau glow. (The trick is the uncontrollable mood swings, binge drinking, crying jags, and ceaseless late-night hours of self-doubt that just melt away the calories!)
I call it the South Pasadena Diet. Here’s some more weight-saving tips for fatties (apologies to fat people like Bruns (and actual fat people like Reynolds)): Rent a shack. Live in dining room of said shack. Work two dead-end jobs to minimize the number of hours you can sleep/think. Don’t go outside unless dragged out by well-meaning friends. Force those same friends to stay in and watch Hal Hartley films over and over. Have a loathesome roommate (who may be plotting against you / who may not be real / who may be just another side of your own personality) with similar dead-end prospects and eating habits so hideous that you vomit to this day at the thought of what can be done with canned spaghetti sauce, canned tuna, and undercooked rice.
Let simmer for one year.
I really like the idea of the link between Reznik and his job. And unlike most of your half-baked ideas (See Elephant, horror movies), I’d actually encourage you to develop this further.
It mostly escaped me while I watched the film, though I kept trying to figure out why it was called The Machinist (and why Elephant was called…)
The things that made the biggest impressions on me were the Dostoevsky references (like when he nearly killed his landlady, his inability to read very much of The Idiot, and Crime & Punishment showing up in the fun-house), and – of course – the fun house.
Now, I am a huge fan of “dark rides.” The fact that there are so few good ones is little deterrant to me. But the one in that film must have been a ball to build and ride. I knew it was loaded with plot hints, and it was. It was an effective little plot device.
I didn’t like the mysterious bald guy he chased around, I didn’t like the explanation for what was happneing with the freezer, or the clock that doesn’t move at the airport. None of these really worked in with the plot that well, or they were just recasts of previous “goin’ crazy” films, done much better in Memento, or various Hitchock-esque pieces.
Still, good performances and good fillmmaking, even if the plot structure was a bit weak.
I read an interesting piece about Bale’s temperament in making the film. The weight loss caused him considerable problems of course, but also led to a feeling of euphoria, acceptance, non-aggression and slowness.
Good film. Worth watching.
Anderson did an episode for Showtime’s not-so-masterly horror anthology and it repeated many of his themes and, for 30 minutes of its running time, much that he does well. Called “Sounds Like,” the film stars Chris Bauer (the union leader from Wire season 2, who is excellent here) as a guy who manages a phone tech-help center, listening in on his employees talking to customers. His hearing is at first strangely acute then increasingly, alarmingly, insanity-inducingly overwhelming. We quickly learn that he’s dealing with grief over the death of his son.
And the first half hour is just superb–a wrenchingly sad depiction of a man unable to interact with others, sinking into his loss. Bauer’s so understated, so controlled in his facial expressions–he’s really outstanding, and it’s worth seeing for his performance.
But I’d almost say turn it off 30 minutes in, ’cause then it goes unsurprisingly down certain “horror” roads and seems to lose most of its energy and just about all of my patience. I found myself wishing that–much as I love horror films–Anderson would just give up on the genre trappings and make a film about death and mourning, the emotions and dread of which he captures/conveys/evokes so very, very effectively…
I just finished season 2 of the Wire. Is this the best show ever on American TV? Would be hard to argue against it. Everything I hated about Spike Lee’s Clockers is fixed in this series. in spades. Insanely good filmmaking.