Christopher Nolan’s most recent flick ‘Inception’ (2010) is a problematic one. The narrative’s brooding, dystopian mise en scene reminds audiences of Nolan’s visual trademark: chaotic darkness. The film is celebratory in the way that it reminds us of his fascination with – and frequent interest in – neo-noir aesthetics and traumatised characterisation. The film, however, is not just hell-bent on self-indulgence; merely interested. Nolan’s world is as digitialised as it is criminal and melancholic. Cobb (Leonard Di Caprio), the narrative’s antihero, fronts a band of extractors who deal in the theft of knowledge, specifically, in the extraction of information embedded in human subconsciousness. The film, without doubt, is fast-paced and entertaining for much of its duration. It is, however, an unusually complex narrative, one that is obsessed with flaunting its knowledge of postmodernism and Freudian psychoanalysis. For these reasons, I ask: how has Nolan’s film received such critical acclaim and experienced such financial success around the globe? These facts, like parts of Nolan’s narrative, continue to perplex me.
As I have touched on already, the film is complex. It is complex because of its pretentious play on Freudian psychoanalytic and postmodern theory. The extractors casually reel off psychoanalytic terms like ‘subconscious’, ‘totem’ and ‘projection’, speaking as if their target audiences are Freudian psychoanalysis enthusiasts. In a similar way, Nolan’s characters lament over replicas of reality and memory, deliberately bringing into question ideas of ‘pastiche’ and ‘simulacra’, key theories in postmodern discourse. To put it bluntly: there is no way in hell that this dialogue and narrative would make for easy, comfortable viewing amongst mainstream audiences. The film tries to be both high and low brow in its artistry, but sinks in between. Even for someone that is currently studying Cinema Studies at postgraduate level, I find aspects of Nolan’s narrative superfluous. On purely visual and performance levels, however, the film is quite good. Di Caprio returns to the complexity and intensity we have seen him deliver in performances in such films as ‘Revolutionary Road’ (2008) and Scorsese’s recent body of work, ranging from ‘Shutter Island’ (2010) and ‘Gangs of New York’ (2002) to ‘The Aviator’ (2004) and ‘The Deaprted’ (2006). As a thief that battles with his wife’s death by entrapping her in memory mazes he creates, we feel for Cobb. Di Caprio is excellent: scheming, antiheroic, unsettled. Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Arthur, however, is also just as good in his sidekick role. He is likable, sharp, serious, cool and reliable as an assistant to Cobb’s stratagem. Ellen Page as Ariadne is also memorable. At times, it could be argued, Page seems overwhelmed in her part. Maybe this is a symptom of her character: young, studious, eager to please. If anything, the latter argument seems more plausible because if Page has managed to withhold the intensity of such films as ‘Hard Candy’ (2005), there’s no reason why ‘Inception’ would be out of reach. Supporting performances from Tom Berenger, Marion Cotillard, Cillian Murphy, Pete Postlethwaite, Ken Watanabe, Dileep Rao, Tom Hardy and Michael Caine are generally excellent. The cast’s brilliance lies in its subtlety and complexity: they all quietly suffer in a world shaded by darkness, an existence complicated by reflections of cityscape, memories and associations that seem ‘real’.
Nolan’s film – whilst visually stunning and rich in subject matter – is problematic. It does not seem logical that such a film would experience such widespread critical acclaim and financial success purely for its narrative. It’s easy to see how the film’s plot and philosophy would be extremely inaccessible for many. Therefore, I ask again: what is it that currently makes this film so popular amongst audiences? The answer lies in its director, lead actor and visual mastery. Nothing else. Critical response to the film, I believe, is problematic because it implies that mainstream audiences are falling victim to conformity, to saying what they feel ‘needs’ to be said about Nolan and his subject matter rather than what ‘should’ be said about it. This is a pity, one that makes reading of Nolan’s narrative all the more complicated. Whilst the film is great – and easy to follow – in parts, it bogs itself down in superfluous dialogue. Freudian psychoanalysis and postmodernism fiercely clash with one another, giving birth to a story that is more loaded and complicated than it has to be. If anything, the film’s brilliance rests in its awesome cinematography and CGI. Its script, however, is not as easily accessible.
(3.5/5)
Popularity: 28% [?]
