Inception: Best Movie of the Summer or Best Brainscrewer?
This summer was kind of lame when you think about the movies that were released. Iron Man 2 was okay, kind of disappointing. Twilight:Eclipse made me want to go back in time and abort myself (but if I did go back in time to do that, just deciding on the idea would render me non-existent, right? Time travel conundrum!)
What else came out? I don’t really remember. And that makes me sad. Not counting August movies (because August is sort of when the summer movie season is over) May, June, and July didn’t deliver the awesome punch in the balls that it should have (by the way, August had three of the best/most fun films to see: The Other Guys, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, and The Expendables.)
But there was a blip of awesomeness, and that was Inception.
Or as I like to call it: Christopher Nolan Fucks My Head. And I Loved It!
Inception is a miracle, and it is not hyperbole to say that. It was a big-budget action film with terrific set pieces. Zero gravity fights, trains going through cities, skiing and shooting, and Marion Cotillard’s sweet, supple, um, acting. It was summer movies 101: blow shit up, keep the action quick, make money.
But what makes it a miracle is the fact that it made people think. It was smart, brainy, and incredibly confusing. It proved that movie audiences aren’t entirely dumb people that set America back more and more each ticket they buy. (Sadly, Eclipse made more money than it. Oh well, you cannot underestimate the power of super horny young girls. Oh man, I feel gross just thinking that.)
But besides all of that, it was just nice to see a smart, well made film get the recognition it deserves. Nolan is a master director, keeping tabs on everything, from design, to camera movements, to the intricate acting to the tight pacing. Leonardo DiCaprio might be the best actor of our generation. He was smart to get away from the romantic comedies and set his sights on bigger and better pictures.
And of course, Joseph Gordon Levitt is becoming one of the best actors around. First 500 Days of Summer and now this. Who knew that little shit from Third Rock from the Sun would turn into my favorite actor?
But there is a part of me that hates Inception. And that part of me hates it only because it is confused. What part of the movie was a dream? Was it from the first act of inception on the plane? Was it the entire movie? The internet is loaded with theories and ideas (and porn!) to support either side.
For example, does Cobb’s (DiCaprio) totem work for him since it was his wife’s before? She used the top to prove whether or not she was in a dream. Cobb descirbes the totem as something that only the maker of it should know, something that is unique for them. If someone else knows what it does, it can be manipulated and it would not work.
So, when Cobb takes it as his own, does it still retain the correct properties that he described? Wouldn’t it not work for him, therefore, proving the entire movie is a dream?
Or am I full of shit?
That’s what I love most about the film: every explaination can work both ways.
Another example: Cobb doesn’t have his wedding ring on in the scenes where he is suppose to be awake (or we perceive him as awake.) But when they dream, it is on. In the final shot of the film, he isn’t wearing it.
Yet, the final shot of the film is too perfect to be reality. The kids look the same, act the same, and are wearing the same clothes as when Cobb talks about the last time he saw his kids. It has to be a dream. But he’s not wearing his ring.
So it has to be real.
Or, it could be that, since he let his wife go, he no longer needs to have the ring on. So it is a dream.
WHAT THE FUCK IS IT I DON’T KNOW! LAY OFF ME!
I’m sorry. My brain hurt for a second.
Inception will be talked about for decades to come. It should be studied in film classes so up-and-coming filmmakers can see how you can make a smart action film and not have to pander to mindless explosion nuts or virginal girls. Thank you, Mr. Nolan, for giving me hope in American film making.
And also Cotillard’s wonderful, inviting, pants-hardening acting. I’m kidding. I mean breasts.