The Cinephile Fix

Every couple of years I stumble upon a film that transcends its traditional entertainment purposes and goes for something more divine, ambitious and philosophical. When a film like this comes along, it reassures me that film is indeed the greatest art form of our time. Movies that had that awe-inspiring effect on me include: “Last Year At Marienbad”, “The Exterminating Angel”, “Persona”, “2001: A Space Odyssey”, “Dark City”, “Enter the Void”, “The Thin Red Line”, “Eyes Wide Shut” and “Synecdoche, New York”. I like to call them life-changers.

The first time I watched Michael Gondry’s “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” it felt like a life changer. I remember the night I saw it, too. I couldn’t sleep all night due to perpetual thoughts rushing through my head. I used to experience that during the last minutes of an exam I couldn’t finish on time. That night, I needed more time to grasp the film’s brilliant originality and fascinating implications. The second time I saw it, I had a few friends over and it wasn’t as impressive. Now, six years later I’ve given it another shot. Surprisingly, it had that same initial effect on me. This almost never happens to me, and I think I understand why it enchanted me the first and last times. It is one of those rare films, I’d rather watch alone than with an audience.

It reaches for something personal like troubling memories buried deep in our psyche. It is a film that demands the presence of thoughts we put aside when surrounded by people, things we only think about when we’re alone, buried in everlasting thoughts. “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” is the rarest of all films, a therapeutically liberating work of art.

Charlie Kauffman’s marvelous screenplay revolves around Joel (Jim Carrey), a soloist stuck in the repetitive formula of everyday life till he meets the spontaneously carefree Clementine (Kate Winslet). Their relationship escalates into a supposedly dead-end when he learns that she had him erased from her memory. Furious and confused, he contacts the inventor of this advanced process, Dr. Howard Mierzwaik (Tom Wilkinson). Out of sheer desperation he resorts to the only logical solution at the time, removing her from his memory as well. But as he re-experiences the passionate days of their earlier relationship, he falls in love with her all over again.

The film then takes a Hitchcockian turn and becomes a man-on-the run film, only this time the protagonists are running from an untouchable entity. They race from one memory to the next desperately escaping the inevitable erasing process. It’s one of the most original and fresh ideas ever shot on film. If you haven’t seen this modern masterpiece, I strongly suggest you stop reading at this point, as I will explore some of the film’s more thought provoking themes.

One of the philosophical questions this film asks is whether we are merely the sum of our memories or if there’s more to us than a summation of past experiences. Would erasing an incident from our micro-history do us any good? Would a woman erasing the memory of a rape make her happier or would removing the incident do more damage to her life than the actual incident itself? Hence, she wouldn’t have learned anything from it or become the stronger person she is today. Is ignorance indeed bliss?

The film ultimately arrives to the conclusion that no, having a spotless mind does not bring eternal sunshine. You may forget a past memory but you can’t forget the impulses, instincts and emotions that arose from that past incident. They are in some sense untouchable because they shape who we are. Take for example, the simultaneous subplot involving Mary (Kirsten Dunst) discovering that she had her love affair with Dr. Mierzwaik erased. She arrives to that discovery through her love to him. The weak link in Lacuna’s process is that it successfully erases memories but can’t erase feelings.

Another heartbreaking scene that explores the system’s imperfection is when Joel and Clementine finally bid farewell inside his head. She leans in and whispers, “Meet me in Montauk.” You see, the Clementine guiding his escape is merely a projection in Joel’s mind. She represents his will to hold on and he does so through what he knows of her spontaneous personality.

When they challenge the erasing process by hiding in childhood remembrances and other “off the map” memories, the escape route is always suggested by Clementine. Joel would never arrive to such conclusions himself, but he subconsciously asks himself what would Clementine do and acts upon it. So when she whispers that final line inside his head, what he’s really doing is implanting an impulse; something Lacuna can’t touch.

The film opens with a post-erasing scene. On Valentine Day, Joel feels the impulse of going to Montauk instead of working and there he meets Clementine. She too implanted that impulse during her erasing process and it’s such a beautiful encounter. That cold day on the beach, they fall for each other all over again. Both Joel and Clementine do in fact win at the end, implanting that impulse defeats the system in a final attempt of desperation.

In that “second” first encounter, it’s almost like a hidden magnetic force pulls them together. This is portrayed cinematically through brilliant use of music. Music plays when they talk and pauses when they pause. Joel and Clementine click in a disguised coincidence, a natural encounter.

In another simultaneous subplot, Patrick, one of the Lacuna technicians, uses the dialogue he knows from Joel and Clementine’s real initial encounter to sweep her off her feet. The plan backfires on him and only fuels her confusion and anger. I believe that we as human beings have an uncanny ability to detect bullshit and truth in words. We think spoken words is the only way of communicating but there’s an invisible energy that comes from body language, the way we say things, and the way we look at a person that tells us if there’s any truth in what is being communicated. This energy is something beyond what we hear or see; it’s something we feel, a feeling of truth.

My favorite scene in the film is when they’re stuck in their first memory, which is also the last memory they helplessly witness getting erased. Both characters recite some of the dialogue of his memory, but occasionally, Joel becomes self aware, looks at Clementine and pours out his commentary thoughts. As they sit in front of the ocean, she looks at him and says, “This is it Joel, it’s gonna be gone soon.” A sad smile eclipses his face when he replies, “I know.” But it’s the last exchange that really hit the mark with me. “What do we do?” she asks. To which he replies, “Enjoy it.” Joel gives up fighting instantly and chooses to enjoy the little time they have left together and it’s utterly heartbreaking.

Ironically, this reminded me of one of my childhood memories with my dad who’s a doctor of nuclear medicine; it’s when they use nuclear energy in a positive way to cure cancer. I remember when he told me that not all cancer patients choose to fight the disease and there’s nothing he can do about that, it’s their call. As a young kid, I couldn’t get that through my head. It just seemed inconceivable at the time. Whatever reasons they may have, I think it’s their right to do so. Whether it’s never-ending surgeries that constantly fail or hectic chemotherapy that leaves them miserable in their potential last days, it’s their right to let go and enjoy the little time they have left in this world.

Letting go is one of the hardest things a person can do. It doesn’t mean they’re giving up, it means they’re moving on. We hold on to things we value as if they will cease to exist when we let go. The truth is they won’t. Letting go or giving up isn’t an act of cowardice; quite often it’s an act of supreme bravery. “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” tells us to accept things as they are and make the most of what we have when all hope is lost.

I remember seeing my dad sitting on the living room couch as he watched the news. He’s one of the most positive and cheerful people I know and it often puzzled me knowing what he does for a living. I asked him if dealing with dying people on a daily basis is a depressing job. He replied something along the lines of “We tend to keep a lighthearted environment at the hospital.” When I asked him if breaking the bad news is the worst part of his job, he told me that it was, but every once in a while he breaks out great news and it makes it all worth it. The ups and down of life apply everywhere. In the case of this film, it’s in a relationship. As Joel discovers throughout his mental journey, the ups are sometimes worth all the downs.

“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.” – Alfred Tennyson

After a break up, the very memories you once cherished, the ones that drew a smile on your face whenever you remembered them seem none existent. That’s probably due to the recently bad incident towering and blocking all things wonderful from your thoughts. I think it’s an act of self-preservation to let the bad memories stick and allow great ones to slip through our fingers. It makes moving on easier.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
 I took the one less traveled by And that has made all the difference.” – Robert Frost

After Joel and Clementine learn they’ve had their memories erased because things just didn’t work out, they somehow choose to travel that same road again anyway. I think it’s a perfect ending to a perfect film. As we’re so often told, it’s about the journey not the destination. They know what is waiting at the end of that road and they choose to walk through it anyway. The journey has been erased and therefore, they choose to re-experience it. Perhaps it’s to arrive at that conclusion because that’s the only way they’ll understand the nature of their previous destination. Or maybe, they share a tiny ounce of mutual hope. After all, they know the pitfalls and hidden traps on that road from listening to their Lacuna tapes. Dodging them is all that needs to be done to arrive at a different destination. This is precisely how second chances are meant to be taken.

Whenever, I watch this film it steers my eyes away from the empty half of the glass of water and makes me acknowledge that there’s a full half right below. For that very reason, I’m eternally grateful for its existence.

During the revolution Egyptians referenced “V for Vendetta” more frequently than any other work of art. Protestors held up signs that read “Remember, remember the 25 of January.” On the internet, Photoshop was used to alter Pharaoh Tout Ankh Amoun’s face into a Fawkes smile.

Sarah Abdel Rahman, an activist who ended up on TIME magazine’s cover page during the revolution referred to scenes from the film when I discussed the revolution with her. Guy Fawkes’ bumper stickers are stuck on the back windows of dozens of cars driving through Cairo traffic; his mask painted red, white and black resembling the Egyptian flag. The list goes on and on, there’s no doubt about it, in 2011 “V for Vendetta” stirred up as much conversations in Egypt as when it first spread controversy the day it was released here.

 

The controversy back then was one that split opinions between critics and film fans alike. Does the film promote terrorism? Is V a terrorist or a freedom fighter? By definition a terrorist is one of two things:1. a person, usually a member of a group, who uses or advocates terrorism

2. a person who terrorizes or frightens others

V does blow up buildings, but they’re usually empty after the curfew and he does kill policemen when they attack him. V is not a typical terrorist, for he terrorizes a group that uses terror to rule the masses. By definition the government portrayed in the picture could be considered terrorists as well for they are a group that “frightens others”. The only difference is V could also be considered a freedom fighter. The same can’t be said about the members of the British government in the film.

“People should not be afraid of their governments, governments should be afraid of their people.” was tweeted endlessly during the revolution, even though I fully disagree with what it says. Fear should not be the driving factor behind anything. In fact, a government should be at peace with its people and vice versa. In other words, there has to be a mutual aspect between governments and their people and it shouldn’t be fear by rather a mutual understanding. But this isn’t why I decided to write about the film. For a film that better understands this material, I recommend the superior “The Battle of Algiers”. Granted the constant referring drove me to revisit “V for Vendetta” and when I did, it wasn’t the controversy or the dozens of similarities between both the previous Egyptian regime and the government in the film that caught my attention. I decided to write about how the film delivers its message visually.

James McTeigue’s “V for Vendetta” starts with black and white opening credits. The human eye automatically associates black and white with old. Intense military music plays in the background and the images have aged markings on them like they belong to an old film reel. These credits resemble old footage of Nazi propaganda films which plays a major role in this film as historical context is one of its themes.

A narrated voice then transported to the 17th century, 1605 A.D. to be specific. We are introduced to man by the name of Guy Fawkes. He tried to blow up the house of parliaments on November the 5th of that year. Visually we know we’re witnessing the story narrated through the costume designs of a period hundreds of years old.

Fawkes is caught and he’s about to be executed in front of the public. We get a high angle shot of an angry crowd waving their fists into the air. The fact that the shot was angled from above helps the viewer look down at these people both literally and figuratively.

Fawkes is wearing a white shirt symbolizing his innocence. As the noose is tied around his neck, he searches for a loved one, the only sad person in a sea of angry people. When we finally see her, the shot isn’t set up from a high angle suggesting she’s the only righteous person there. We then get an extreme close-up of her eyes as a tear slides down her cheek. The use of a close-up is very relevant as it demands and evokes an emotional response from the audience.

The man gets hanged and the camera moves slowly from his head to his struggling body all the way to his feet dangling in the air. As the camera moves down, the figure rises within the frame symbolically expressing a dying man rising to the heavens.

This is considered the prologue of the story as it all happens before the title flashes on the screen. A large V sign lights up the screen, it references two culturally significant signs, the anarchist A symbol and the Z from Zorro. Both of which are very anti-establishment. This sign is hammered to the viewer throughout the picture both subliminally and consciously.

After the title flashes before the screen we are transported to contemporary times. Through careful editing inspired by Eisenstein’s theory of montage, we witness two intersecting parallel scenes carefully edited together. They complement one another and eventually both subjects merge within the same frame. V puts on his mask and we cut to Evie (Natalie Portman) stands in front of a mirror. She puts on her make-up. When she switches off her TV, he does too. The mirroring actions suggest that both are heading towards the same path. When their paths finally meet, V saves her from brutal government officers attempting to rape her.

A similar montage can be seen after V saves her from the rapists. After they are set apart, Evie goes to work which just happens to be where V is trying to broadcast a message to the country on live TV. The montage sequence mirrors and reflects the previous one with matching close-ups. Only this time when their paths meet again, it’s Evie who saves V.

More mirroring shots occur throughout the picture. Not all of them are between V and Evie. The shots of V talking on TV reflect the ones of the Chancellor addressing the nation. However, both were intentionally captured differently. When V addresses the nation, he speaks eloquently and the screen is clean and well balanced. Yet, when the Chancellor orders his people around, the shots are extreme close-ups displaying his wrinkles and worn out face which symbolizes the old and flawed regime he commands. Also, his shots are often shown from a lower angle meaning the camera was looking up at the subject. This was probably intended to give his menacing presence a sense of power and importance.

As mentioned before, one of the themes of “V for Vendetta” is historical context. The Chancellor is portrayed similarly to Hitler, and his actions that of the Holocaust. These connotations are presented through carefully designed shots that resemble photographs of that era.

There’s also the whole concept of the government officials walking around with a badge that has a symbolic sign on it representing their regime. Costumes play an important factor in this film. Besides the military uniforms, there’s the whole concept of V’s mask. Early on in the picture, V mentions that the man behind the mask doesn’t matter; it’s the idea he tries to inject to his followers that is most important. Another clever use of costume design is when Natalie Portman is dressed as a school girl cheerleader visiting a child molesting priest. It is quite clear that Evie is a full grown woman but with through a single costume all is forgotten. Thoughts of pedophilia and sexual abuse are bound to enter the viewer’s mind.

The priest brings back the whole mask concept. Because the priest only seems like a man of God on the outside but from the inside he’s nothing but a child molester. In other words like V, the priests is wearing a mask only underneath he’s hiding a much uglier soul. His disrespect for his religion is further noted upon when V enters the room to save Evie from another rape attempt. The priest reaches for his gun, which is hidden in none other than the bible.

A more pleasant religious reference is after Evie discovers V was the one imprisoning and torturing her to help overcome her fears. She walks out on the roof and stands in the rain. From this moment on, she’s reborn, the rain symbolizes her baptism. We also get a flash of V’s rebirth only instead of water it was fire that gave birth to a new man.

Other memorable scenes include the sequence where we get a glimpse of Evie’s childhood. In that scene we witness as her mother is brutally beaten and gets arrested while she hides under the bed. The scene mirrors another as she watches a father like figure get beaten and arrested.

As one can clearly see, most shots in “V for Vendetta” are either close-ups, extreme-close-ups, medium shots, some two shots and three shots but rarely any wide shots. I suspect this was also intentional as most scenes take place behind bars, within brick walls of a prison cell, in rooms cramped with people. These scenes evoke a sense of claustrophobia or oppression which is what the government enforces upon its people in the film. However, after V liberates his people, we get a variety of beautifully photographed wide shots. The viewer is no longer trapped within the boundaries of the frames as the director and cinematographer liberate the audience’s eyes to deep focus wide shots. V achieves what Fawkes failed to do hundreds of years ago, and at last everyone takes of their masks. Through the collective work of editors, costume designers, musical composers, cinematographer and the director we are presented with a perfect cinematically example of consistent mise-en-scene to visually express the core of the film’s message, freedom and liberation.

When I marched in Tahrir, I felt a similar sense of unity, the sense of unity can’t be described properly in words. You become part of this huge body with a single cause. The roar of the crowds alone spreads goosebumps all over your skin, you look around you and see strangers but for the time being they’re your family. You help those in need and they help you, you protect them and they protect you, there’s nothing quite like experiencing the same event in masses. It’s why we enjoy crowded parties, go the movies in theaters and so on. We tend to be more at ease when embarking on the same incident. So when I watched as thousands marched towards the house of parliaments, all these feelings came back to me. It’s a shame it had to end with a beautiful building exploding. Perhaps the V masked people should’ve continued marching into the building and taken over using foothold. After all, peaceful revolutions can be successful.

 

Elia Kazan’s “On the Waterfront” has been discussed endlessly by film fans, critics and film historians. It’s easy to see why, for “On the Waterfront” can be studied from various perspectives. On the one hand the film reflects a time in history when some Americans named names before the House of Un-American Activities Committee much like Terry Malloy does in court. It has also been argued to be Kazan’s answer to Arthur Miller’s play “The Crucible” or his redemption and justification for falling victim of Joseph McCarthy’s witch-hunt of the 1950’s.

Others simply revisit the film to study its significance in film history and the impact of Brando’s method acting. Pauline Kael recognized strong Christian symbolism in the plot and looked at the film from a religious point of view. Among other things a lawsuit filed against Columbia pictures in 1955 revealed that the film was also a true story based on Anthony De Vincenzo who with the aid of waterfront priest John M. Corridan blew the whistle against the corruption imposed by real life mobster Albert Anastasia.

The way I see it, all the above facts tell the story behind the film. It’s a shame that the religious, socio-political or historical agendas that went on behind the curtains eclipse every other essay written about this great story. So I tried to strip everything I read and learned about the film from my mind and study it with fresh eyes. It’s almost impossible to do so, yet I managed to see the film in a new light. The one film essay that occupied my thoughts during my attempt to recapture a first viewing is Roger Ebert’s brilliant “Raging Bull” review. Both films are black and white motion pictures with boxers as protagonists. Another thing they share in common is the fact that in both movies gangsters cast their greedy shadows influencing and manipulating the outcome of boxing matches. Nonetheless, on a cinematic level they couldn’t be more different, or so I thought. The only direct connection they share is the referenced “I could’ve been a contender” quote, but through Roger’s essay I discovered a new angle to “On the Waterfront.”

In my personal favorite film review, Roger points out that “Raging Bull” is not about boxing at all but rather about “a man with paralyzing jealousy and sexual insecurity, for whom being punished in the ring serves as confession, penance and absolution”. In other words, the film appears to be about boxing on the surface, but on a deeper level it is about something entirely different. It is no coincidence that I kept thinking about his words during my latest “On the Waterfront” viewing, for it also is a film that hides behinds a genre–only, unlike “Raging Bull,” it’s the other way around. Think about it, “On the Waterfront” doesn’t quite fit in as a gangster picture the same way “Raging Bull” doesn’t feel like a boxing film. Even though there’s not a single scene where sluggers dance around within the confines of a ring, Kazan’s film is in fact a boxing film in disguise.

The film starts off with Terry Malloy (Marlon Brando) trying to get Joey Doyle to meet him on the roof after having found one of his lost pigeons. We learn that Joey is wanted by the mob but he goes up the roof nevertheless. We sense he trusts Terry. Unfortunately the whole act turns out to be a set-up. Gangsters throw him off the roof to his demise. We see Terry’s reaction as he stands on the sidewalk next to his brother Charley and two other gangsters. Clearly Terry is upset. “I thought they was gonna talk to him and get him to dummy up. I figured the worst they was gonna do is lean on him a little bit,” he tells his brother. We later learn that this wasn’t the first time Charley used his kid brother for his own benefit.

Gradually we witness Terry struggling to pick a side. No other actor could better express a slow and continuing character change as Brando. When he learns about Doyle, Brando plays with his jacket zipper and we suspect something is troubling his mind. Brando’s use of body language in “On the Waterfront” is as clear as the expressive acting of the silent era. It’s hard to pinpoint when exactly he changes as several people contribute to him taking a stand against the mob. Joey’s Doyle’s sister, for one, plays an important role in this transformation for she feeds his guilt.

They first meet on what seems to be like any other day on the waterfront. Two detectives mingle in the crowd asking for Terry Malloy. When they finally spot him, one of them asks Terry about his boxing days to which Terry replies, “Ok. Ok. Without the bird seed, what do you want?”

They start asking about Joey, since Terry was the last one to see him before his death. A longshoreman’s hook rests on Terry’s shoulder while he gives them nothing they could work with; the hook of course symbolizes being hooked in a corrupt system. Afterward Terry looks to one of his friends and says “How do you like them mutts taking me for a pigeon?” A whistle blows and the men gather up around one of the gang members who’s about to pick the workers of the day. The longshoremen are desperate. They start begging and pushing, the man finally gives up and throws the tabs on the floor. Dozens of men scramble fighting for the tabs like pigeons would react to bird seeds on the ground. Oh, the irony.

Anyway, Terry meets Edie there and after he learns that she’s Joey’s sister he gives her his tab. The more time he spends with her the guiltier he feels. Notice how during those scenes Terry is wearing a checkered wool jacket. His entire presence changes throughout the film; the costume design is deliberate with two contrasting colors representing the conflict within him. Eventually Terry wears Joey’s jacket. It’s plain because by then he has already picked a side.

This leads me to another important character in this film, Father Barry. Father Barry (Karl Malden) pushes Terry a step further during one his speeches. He goes on and on trying to convince the longshoremen to act. Meanwhile, we see a change occurring in Terry’s eyes. When one of the mob members attempts to throw something at the priest, Terry knocks him out. The way Father Barry words his speech is almost like he indirectly wants to spark that fire in Terry. He uses words a boxer could identify with. “What they did to Joey, what they did to Nolan, they’re doing to you. And you. And YOU. And only you, with God’s help, have the power to knock ’em off for good!” Terry needs the priest like a boxer needs a trainer.

As much as Edie and Father Barry influence Terry’s actions to finally take a stand, I believe it’s his brother Charley (Rod Steiger) who finally pushes him over. In one of the most iconic acting scenes in cinema, Terry meets his brother in a cab. Charley pulls a gun on his brother and for the third time he tries to force his own brother into doing something he’d rather not. Terry pushes the gun away in disappointment. “Charley, Charley, Charley,” he says in a heartbreaking tone. His brother, realizing what he has done, rests his head in shame. I think this is the precise moment when Terry decides to face the mob. He fiddles with a piece of dust on his leg. “Oh, Charley.”

Throughout the film you can sense an awkward uncomfortable chemistry between the brothers and it all comes down to this scene. Both Brando and Steiger bare their souls here. Great acting scenes rarely live up to their hype but every single time I watch this scene, the pain that pours out of both of them never fails to move me. As mentioned before this is where we learn how Charley first selfishly used his brother in the past.

“It wasn’t him, Charley, it was you. Remember that night in the Garden you came down to my dressing room and you said, ‘Kid, this ain’t your night. We’re going for the price on Wilson.’ You remember that? ‘This ain’t your night!’ My night! I coulda taken Wilson apart! So what happens? He gets the title shot outdoors on the ballpark and what do I get? A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville! You was my brother, Charley, you shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda taken care of me just a little bit so I wouldn’t have to take them dives for the short-end money.” Terry finally opens up and tells his brother how that made him feel and ends his powerful speech with “You don’t understand. I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let’s face it. It was you, Charley.”

Charley can’t even look him in the eye during all this. Both shameful and heartbroken he accepts Terry’s decision. Terry isn’t the only one who comes out of the cab incident a changed man. I always saw Charley as an overlooked character for this is his redeeming moment. Charley hands his brother a gun before dropping him off. He’s looking out for his kid brother and as we later learn, it’s more than just a “little bit”, for Charley sacrifices his own life for Terry.

When Terry tries to avenge his brother’s death it’s the priest who saves him and directs him like a trainer would in a ring corner. “Don’t fight him like a hoodlum down here in the jungle. That’s just what he wants. He’ll hit you in the head and plead self-defense. Fight him tomorrow in the courtroom” Terry testifies against the mob but loses everyone. Yet, he still finds the courage to go to the waterfront the next day. He lifts the longshoreman hook on his shoulder and throws it at the closed door of Johnny Friendly’s office symbolizing his liberation. One thing leads to another and before you know it they’re fighting one another. After the other hoodlums aid their boss, it’s too much for Terry and he gets knocked down. This is the championship match he longed for. Thousands of longshoremen are watching like boxing fans gathered around a ring. It’s Terry’s only chance to prove he’s not a bum.

The priest comes as a trainer would at such a critical moment, “You hear that, Terry? Terry, did you hear that? You lost the battle but you have a chance to win the war. All you gotta do is walk… Johnny Friendly is layin’ odds that you won’t get up.” This is the last round in a boxing match. Everyone is tense waiting to see if he has it in him to stand back on his feet.

Terry struggles to get back on his feet but eventually he manages to do it. When someone tries to help him walk, the priest yells “Leave him alone. Take your hands off him. Leave him alone.” Terry has to survive this walk on his own. Eventually Terry proves himself no bum bringing an end to the reign of corruption on the waterfront. Terry Malloy’s a contender, he’s somebody and he most certainly has class.

The first two “Terminator” movies were to me what “Star Wars” was to previous generations. Every kid wanted to be Eddie Furlong. The prospect of having a badass mother who didn’t freak out when you grabbed a gun was overwhelming. On top of that young John Connor had his very own Terminator to command!! When I first watched those movies it was the violence of the first film, the special effects of the second and the time travel paradox of both that kept me up most nights in awe. I must’ve watched them a hundred times and I still give them credit for kicking off my interest to science fiction and the many mind boggling philosophical ideas that come hand in hand with the genre.

Today “The Terminator” is hailed as one of the best independent horror films ever made and “T2: Judgment Day” remains to me the best action film of all time. The latter is also rightfully considered to be amongst the greatest sequels in film history along with “Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back”, “The Godfather: Part II” and “The Dark Knight”. When I recently revisited them on Bluray, I was as impressed as I was many years ago. The special effects are far superior to what we see in movies today. The T-1000 is the coolest villain to grace the screen. Arnold Schwarzenegger’s portrayals of the T-101 (“The Terminator”) and the T-800 (“The Terminator”) remain the actor’s defining roles and with good reason.

He played T-101 as a ruthless killing machine with a stare that would scare anyone into surrender. His T-800 is a much more advanced model and we can see that not only through the special effects but also thanks to Schwarzenegger’s acting. Many believe the only reason they worked is because the roles required the Austrian actor to act as little as possible, but I beg to differ. The difference in both models is made clear thanks to his recognition that they are completely different characters/models. The T-800 is less cold-blooded since he has the capability to learn. It takes a lot for an actor to pull off turning a memorable villain into a lovable hero in the sequel. This twist in character is what was missing in “Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines” and “Terminator Salvation”.

Likewise Linda Hamilton’s portrayal of Sarah Connor couldn’t be more different in both pictures. The character transformation we see unfold throughout both pictures is nothing short of remarkable and I still believe she was overdue for a Best Actress Oscar nomination. Sarah Connor is a vulnerable, weak and helpless waitress in “The Terminator” and grows into a fit strategic killing machine in “T2: Judgment Day”.

When Kyle Reese tells her he traveled through time because “It was a chance to meet the legend. Sarah Connor, who taught her son to fight, organize, prepare from when he was a kid.” She responds: “Oh, come on. Do I look like the mother of the future? I mean am I tough, organized? I can’t even balance my checkbook.” The viewer can’t picture it either, but somehow Hamilton managed to successfully bring his description to life.

Both films qualify as popcorn flicks but they’re much more than that. Cameron is a master of filmmaking who knows his cinema. Consider the scene where the Terminator carves out its own damaged eye. When I first saw this scene it was the most gruesome scene I had ever seen. Now, I recognize a very clear reference to Luis Buneul’s “Un Chien Andalou”. Cameron wasn’t only creating a film for the masses but he was delivering a bold statement to film lovers. The reason I’m writing about these films decades after their initial release is because I truly believe that James Cameron created the perfect double feature for a film genre class.

“The lesson I learnt from Kubrick was, ‘Never do the same thing twice.” – James Cameron

The story of “T2: Judgment Day” is a continuation of “The Terminator” and in that sense it’s a sequel. Yet, it also qualifies as a stand alone cinematic retelling, since the plot follows the exact same structure as the original.

They begin with identical scenes of our hero and villain teleporting into present time. It is only made clear whom the hero and villain is the second they reach their target. In both incidences the hero cements his role with “Come with me if you want to live.” But it’s not only the structure and the dialogue that bare similarities, even some shots are identical. When the T-1000 first confronts the T-800, he throws him through a glass window. In “The Terminator”, the same initial confrontation ends with Kyle Reese blasting the T-101 through the glass window of the Tech Noir club. The shot of the terminator unaffectedly getting back on his feet much to the shock of bystanders is identical in both films.

Kyle Reese is declared insane in the police station and Sarah Connor is a patient in a mental institution for the same reasons. In both films they get freed and proven right by the sudden appearance of the very machines they talk about. The similarities are endless. Even the final act are alike for they both end in chase scenes that lead to a factories. A truck of gas blows up setting the T-101 on fire, and a liquid nitrogen truck blows up freezing the T-1000. In both cases, they are believed to be dead only to continue the chase after melting to their true form.

Even though they follow the same structure, they’re completely different films. “The Terminator” is a dark atmospheric horror film while “T2: Judgment Day” is an all-out action picture. Through a deep understanding of mise-en-scene, Cameron managed to retell the same plot without repeating himself. He created two very distinct films using his conventions of genre. The make-up in “The Terminator” serves the nightmarish tone of the film. Schwarzenegger is seen without eyebrows making his presence a lot more disturbing. The lighting is low-key, expressive, and non-naturalistic. We also have the helpless female protagonist that goes hand in hand with horror films like “Halloween”. But more than anything, “The Terminator” is a horror film in the tradition of the old Universal monster classics such as “Dracula”, “Frankenstein” and “Creature from the Black Lagoon”.

“T2: Judgment Day” is more light-hearted, action packed and doesn’t share the bleak ending of the first one. In fact, the ending is very uplifting with a strong message on learning the value of human life. Visually it’s less dark for Cameron uses uses a very stylistic cast of harsh blue that gives the film it’s own unique atmosphere- one that clearly influenced the look and feel of two other great action pictures- “Heat” and “The Dark Knight”. The main characters are loaded with weaponry the way protagonists in action pictures would be. The musical score is louder and the action is more epic.

With both those movies, James Cameron proved that one could create two different films using the same plot. I think this may be the highlight of his career, the fact that he used all the elements that go into a scene to form something different. Never has a director made that more clear than with what Cameron did with the first two Terminator films. The canvas was the same, so was the subject being painted, but the colors and brush strokes changed.