March 28, 2006 | V for I Want My Money Back

V for Vendetta, the latest film from the Wachowski Brothers, managed to turn an ideologically interesting and morally ambiguous comic book series into a film about how bad fascism is. Of course, the film drops not so subtle hints to get viewers to link the future fascist state in England to the current administration, with more than a hint of the abominable far left "Bush Knew" conspiracy theories (the folks who argue that 9/11 was not a plot by fundamentalist Islamic terrorists, but actually a Reichstag-fire-like plot by the current administration).

The film turns the original graphic novel's relatively interesting battle between fascism and one of the more violent strains of late 19th century anarchism into a battle between repressive black booted thugs and liberals who appreciate antique Korans and like gay people.

Hmm, which side does the viewer get to be on?

Now, I'm a big fan of dystopias and utopias in fiction and cinema, but can we finally put to rest visions of a Big Brother future? Give me more riffs on Aldous Huxley, William Gibson and Franz Kafka's collective visions of the future, because Big Brother isn't here and isn't coming any time soon.

I'm no movie critic, so I'll quote a graf from Keith Uhlich of Slant Magazine, commenting on the closing moment of the film (spoiler alert). At this moment Ms. Natalie Portman (who should have ended her acting career at its pinnacle, The Professional), lets loose a train bomb that will explode Parliament. In defiance of the authorities, hordes of Londoners turn out, dressing in masks and capes just as the protagonist/killer/bomber/mediahacker V does, to watch the scheduled terrorist attack.

When the crowd of V's unmasks before the smoldering remains of (God bless you, Clark Griswold) Big Ben-Parliament, they stand perfectly still and stare forth coldly and impassively-they're like the wax figures from Madame Tussaud's performing the rave scene from The Matrix: Reloaded. Gazing over this multiracial panoply of faces (and listening to Portman's deathly serious voiceover about how V is "all of us") it's hard not to view these stoic souls as the Wachowskis' metaphorical representation of their audience. Not surprisingly, this supposedly all-inclusive cross-section of humanity comes across as little more than a faceless multitude to be coddled and exploited by ultimately meaningless laser light shows. Yet the writers neglect an important verity: once the fireworks have ended, we must inevitably leave the communal darkness and become ourselves again. And when we have emerged into the light, we might best make use of our time regained-a period in which, no doubt, those responsible for this abortive fiasco are distractedly stuffing their pockets with limitless amounts of green-by conceiving, planning, and executing a vendetta all our own.

Compare that scene in Ken Loach's masterful take on the Spanish Civil War (a fight against fascism), Land And Freedom, where Loach's camera hovers for almost 10 minutes watching a group of former serfs debate whether or not to create an anarchist farm collective. Subjects vs. Objects.

This subject wants his money back.

Posted by Ryan Singel at March 28, 2006 11:20 AM

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