of punk culture and Chevy Malibu’s

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

Throwing together black comedy, punk music and a martian story is a recipe for one roller coaster film. In essence, Repo Man talks about how the life of a former supermarket clerk turned a complete 180 after being slyly invited to be a repossession man, with hints of slapstick humor and outlandish circumstances. What the film highlighted the most was how it could piece together one slapstick element after the other, following the story of the namesake of the film, Otto Maddox.

Set in a more suburban perspective of Los Angeles, Maddox was a punk, too-cool-for-you fish swimming in a mundane, minimum wage pond. After a series of unfortunate events, which included getting fired from his job and having his girlfriend cheat on him, he gets a sketchy offer to drive a car out of a Latino family’s neighborhood. He catches on and finds out that he’s been driven into being a repossession man for the Helping Hand Acceptance Corporation (which in my opinion, sounds more like an adoption center for kids). Initially hesitant, his parents giving up his education fund to some televangelist pushed Otto to pursuing the job. That decision quite literally changed the course of his life.

Backtracking a bit, the film began with a Chevy Malibu getting pulled over on a highway. As suspicious police officer pulls over a the driver who is a Dr. Parnell, suspecting that the vehicle is carrying drugs. When he opens the trunk, it’s even worse. This aspect at the very start affirmed me that this is one of those painfully funny movies that make use of kitschy elements and humor. Dr. Parnell reenters the scene with his alien automobile, which actually is now up for a bounty for different repossession companies, Helping Hand included. A good ‘ol 80s highway chase scene ensues for the Malibu, now glowing in neon green, is fought over by the Rodriguez Brothers and Helping Hand, among others. The car itself seems to reject anyone incapable of handling it since those who attempt to do so end up getting obliterated due to radiation, similar to how Parnell did when he recklessly collapsed it. One of Otto’s repo mentors, Miller, manages to handle the car and nudges the novice to hop in. A movie like this could only end with the Malibu floating through the air, flying to who knows where.

For me, this film made managed to lace together some seemingly different niches into one narrative quite enjoyably. To have someone so tough and punk rock as Otto be involved in a martian story line, with all the painfully amusing dialogues throughout the movie, was fun to watch to say the least. Personally, I initially related to none of the niches that were spotlighted in the film, but what the film achieved was creating its own niche. The story of Otto, whose life went from gray to neon, could’ve easily been told without the martian aspect of the film, yet it’s a good thing director Alex Cox conceptualized it to be narrated that way. Repo Man is one of those films that has certain scenes or depictions that you feel like you shouldn’t be giggling at, but you do anyway, and with how outlandish everything was, you might as well be.

in the loop of things

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

As liberated as we think we are, there are in fact many institutions that restrain us like a ball and chain. On a societal level, religion, laws and norms dictate how we act as members of a commune, and most of the time, we think about “the other” before we commit any act. More individualistically, our conscience, memories and other internalized features of our mind has a hand in deciding how we what choices we’ll make and why we’ll choose to them over other options. True freedom is hard to exemplify, if it even exists in the first place. There are always some things that seem to control us, directing what our actions, words and thoughts will be.

The Endless’ Camp Arcadia illustrates this finite freedom. As former members of it, brothers Justin and Aaron revisit the camp and observe how the members seem to be stuck in their own respective time loops, repeatedly forced to do the same things after a period of time. The presence of a great “unknown” entity that seems to oversee everything is also a major component of what Camp Arcadia is. Justin, the more temperamental of the two, loathes the cult for these, and prefers the “real world”, while Aaron associates the group with more fond, sentimental memories. After spending one day back at the camp, they begin to notice the bizarre patterns that seem to occur solely in that area. Hal, the de facto head honcho of the camp, attempts to explain the entity through some Physics. Honestly, something about him welcoming back the duo ticked me off, and my hunch to get behind him as a character proved to be somewhat justified later on. After having encountered some creepy lake creature, the brothers are exposed and accounted for apparently throwing slurs about the cult in the “real world”, and Hal leads in the accusations. Justin is immediately shaken and wastes no time in finding a way out of the area before a third moon rises, which would indicate that the two of them would be stuck in their own time loop, just like the rest of the camp. In a moment that kind of came off as a surprise, Aaron actually prefers to stay in the camp, since the presence of a routine or some body operating on them actually seems “comforting” to him. While Justin was concerned with a way out, he was more interested in having some “certainty”.

Watching a thriller like this with this much eerie elements was an experience for me. The thing that makes “horror” movies terrifying for me is not much so jump scares or grotesque depictions, but more so how relatable or “real” the portrayals are. The representations used in the film was carried out in a way that the fictional ends up appearing so real. That was overall “the scary part” about it. What’s even more hair-raising about the film is that it could be interpreted as one big metaphor for all the social controls that surround us today. The comforting routine Aaron yearned for in the camp is no different from the security we feel when we follow our daily patterns, such as going to school or work. He even stated how dying at the hands of the entity would more favorable that going back to their mundane lives. On the other hand, Justin was able to encapsulate that feeling of wanting to break free from these arbitrary patterns, in order to have a more diversified lifestyle. In the movie, the overseeing spirit was somewhat

Although, what different is the life outside Camp Arcadia to that within it? In both settings, there is still the concept of routines to be followed, and everything is still time-bound. I sort of got goosebumps when Aaron was trying to convince Justin to succumb to the entity rather than go back to their normal lives, since his dialogues were mainly about how he’d rather be consciously controlled by some being rather than be controlled by the institutions that surround them in the “real world”. I thought to myself, “Well, they’re going to die either way” (as pessimistic and existential as that sounds).

Maybe it would’ve been better to watch this movie without delving into the metaphors and representations so intently immediately, as evident as they were. The film was certainly one you have to think about when you watch it, although at first viewing, perhaps it would’ve been more palatable if it was seen at face value. Quite frankly, The Endless isn’t one of my favorite films per se, but it’s definitely one of those relevant eye-openers to some facts about life, and it’s a great take on conventional sci-fi thrillers.

in memory of the Lost Highway

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

People tell different stories about the same events. I’m only licensed with three units worth of a general psychology class, so I am no expert when it comes to the human mind and how it functions. Although, the way I understand things, individuals tend to recall the same happenings in different ways, given that each person has had that event colored in a unique manner. Whatever what one person was feeling or going through when a certain event transpired influences how that person recollects that occurrence. Any two individuals can experience the same incident, and how they tell you about that event can totally differ since they are coming from two different perspectives.

“I like to remember things my own way… How I remember them, not necessarily the way they happened.”

Fred Madison perfectly exemplifies this mental phenomenon. he was a struggling musician living that white picket fence life with his suburban raven-haired wife, Renee. Albeit things were a bit shady, life was as perfectly mundane and predictable as it could be for them – until random VHS tapes, containing footage of them at home showed up on their doorstep.

After getting no value-adding help from the police, the couple are left in an even more unnerving place. What made things all the more confusing and mentally disturbing for Fred is that a certain Mystery Man keeps popping up in the most obscure places – his dream, through a phone call and even on his wife’s face. The phrase “Dick Laurent is dead” continues to haunt him alongside the creepy image. In one instance, the VHS shows him hovering over the dead body of Renee, and he is sent to the death row for allegedly murdering her. In the most complex and mind-boggling sequence of events, Fred “suddenly” transforms into Pete Dayton, a young scruffy auto-mechanic. “Pete” is then released and goes back to his everyday job. It’s at this point in the film where a viewer starts to ponder if it was a body-swapping situation, if Fred really magically turned into the younger stud, or if the film literally just abandoned the story of the Madisons and jumped into a completely different one.

Pete’s life starts off at his auto-mechanic shop where Mr. Eddy, a high-riding mobster, has him fix up his car. Impressed with his work, Mr. Eddy returns the same day, this time with his bombshell mistress Alice, whom Pete seems to have a “love”-at-first-sight moment with. Strikingly enough for anyone watching, Patricia Arquette also plays the role of Alice, as she has already portrayed Renee in Fred’s side of the story. Eventually, Pete and Alice do hit it off and begin an affair, as observed by two inquisitive detectives from Fred’s jail. In fear that Mr. Eddy would catch up to them, and he does, the pair decides to elope, with a plan to get all the money they need from Andy, who turns out to be a friend of both Alice and Renee (if those two are two different people, anyway). After murdering Andy and finding their way to a desolate cabin in the dessert, Pete – who has now transformed back to Fred – meets the Mystery Man he used to encounter. Visibly stunned, he drives away to the Lost Highway Inn. There he catches Mr. Eddy, post-coitus with Renee, no less, and kills him with the aid of the Mystery Man himself. Mr. Eddy turns out to be the Dick Laurent being talked about in the VHS tapes sent to him.

Concluding the film is a full circle moment, as Fred hops into his car and escapes the two detectives on his trail. He starts to shudder as he speeds through an empty and eerie highway; mimicking the opening scene of the film. At this point, I was curious thinking about how Fred would choose to remember all the events that transpired now, or if would even want to recall them at all.

Perhaps, that was what was happening in the entire duration of the film. The way I see it, all the haywire events such as Fred turning Pete was just Fred retelling the events that concerned him murdering Dick Laurent, and getting cheated on by his wife. When the police investigate Andy’s home after he was murdered, a photo which used to have both Renee and Alice in it, now only the former is seen. This begs the question if Alice was ever real or just a metaphor of some sort that Fred made use of. The film’s main point of view was Fred, and everyone was being narrated not the way they happened, but the way Fred remembered them to occur. Realizing that was a mindfuck moment for sure. Lost Highway was a movie I wasn’t meant to understand at first, and maybe watching it again after having pondered on it will help me appreciate it more. For now, I’m choosing to remember it as a movie that made me realize the power we have on our memories, and how malleable they are to us.

the manifesto of Mother Monster

[Bonus essay] Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

Disclaimer: Most of this essay will *slightly* be biased towards Lady Gaga, as the author is a Little Monster. Put your paws up, baby.

One would be hard-pressed to say that Lady Gaga is not a video vixen in her own right. Her music videos always have been niche, clad with elements of camp and original concepts. From her debut “Just Dance” where she did literally that in a post-party background, to “Marry The Night” which was a 14-minute short film expounding on her journey as a pop star, Gaga has always been one to enchant her audiences through her niche yet compelling visuals. Messages of love, heartbreak, acceptance and freedom are accentuated . She, along with the team working with her, never disappoint when it comes to music videos. When Gaga gets in front of the camera, no one quite does it like her.

Indisputably the pop anthem of the LGBT+ community, the accompanying music video of “Born This Way” stood out as a definite landmark in her career. The visual is set on a narrative about how Mother Monster gave birth to a whole new race “with no judgment, [and] no prejudice” in an intergalactic, dystopian territory. Quite literally, the video tackles a kind of species that are born a certain way, and the songstress’ lyrics exclaim how perfectly made they are despite whatever may make them seem too alien.

The entire sequence of Mother Monster’s birth uses quite graphic representations – ones more literal than metaphorical – of giving birth, coming together and contemplation. A rifle comes out of her uterus, representing the birth of “evil” and the existence of “good” came about after she pushed out one identical head after the other, creating the new race the video focuses on. Some of the special effects come off as a wee bit tacky or cliche, yet what this achieves is a simply digestible interpretation of what Gaga is trying to get across to the viewers. The direct to the point, and almost grotesque dialogues and visuals make it easier for an audience to understand the point of the video, and the song in general. Lyrically, the song is pretty straightforward with its empowering message of self love and acceptance. The seven minute video reflects this, and depending on taste, it becomes an enjoyable watch for anyone who’s been hooked on the tune.

The first second of the video depicted a unicorn within a sparkling triangular frame, and this image comes in full circle when it all concluded showing the pop diva riding away on it. From her leather bikini, to her club kid-esque Mother Monster look, and to her iconic suited up skeleton, Gaga’s versatility and creativity as an artist were embodied in the whole seven minutes. Down to the choreography, visual effects and even the dim color grading , “Born This Way” managed to encapsulate what it feels (and looks) like to be a freak outcasted for being something unconventional. Gaga was unapologetically herself, not separating herself being by exhibiting how she’s the queen of the freaks, but rather showing the viewers that she is in fact, a freak herself. There was no other way to go about it, ’cause she was born that way. The video is iconic in it’s own right. Wherever the bop is played, you can be assured that there are Little Monsters’ raising their paws up. Whether they’re in their bedrooms or on stage, it’s most probable that they’re trying to replicate the choreography in the video, following and believing in the dictums of self-love and acceptance Mother Monster taught them.

F for Face Value

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

Throughout the duration of this class, I’ve gotten to expand my taste when it comes to any work of cinema. Having seen such a wide array of films, my appreciation for different genres and means of storytelling has grown. Needles to say, the selection I’ve been to exposed to in this elective was nothing similar to the slapstick comedies and mainstream rom-coms I’m used to. We’ve become accustomed to plot twist after plot twist, one grotesque fictional element following the next. Getting to view a documentary-drama such as “F for Fake” then came as some sort of surprise at first since one could assume that the events depicted would all be based on fact, with nothing about them “made up”. In short, it’s expected that a documentary should have no fake elements; yet in some almost “meta” way, that was the whole point of Welles’ work.

From the get-go, Orson Welles, the film’s narrator and director, depicts himself as an illusionist performing tricks in front of a kid. He narrates the happenings in the life of art forger extraordinaire Elmyr de Hory, whose mimeographs go on to be sold as if they were the original pieces. Clifford Irving serves as de Hory’s critic, yet he himself is convicted of some forgery as the biography he wrote about de Hory turned out to be a Howard Hughes rehash. Welles touches on the fact that the art dealers and buyers of de Hory’s works of deceit are also “fakers” to an extent; continuing to purchase the counterfeit works despite their awareness about it shows how the genuineness of a piece can be so easily pushed aside. The entire scandal about the forgeries touched on the importance of authentication (or perhaps, the lack thereof ) when it comes to artistic works.

“The pompous word for ‘lie’ is ‘art'”

The overall beauty and “looked-at-ness” of art is described to be an arbitrary thing. Welles expounds that most of the art dealers involved in promoting de Hory’s counterfeits were more concerned with how real the piece looks, rather than how real the piece actually is. This comes from their main goal which is to sell the art, and profit. Face value is the most vital, and seemingly, the only factor looked for in the pieces. Demand for artworks toppled appreciation for the authenticity of these. The film coins that the forgery de Hory practices is, in itself, is actually an artwork about the art piece he’s mimicking.

Fakeness comes either as “good” or “bad” depending on it’s quality and how believable it is. It’s an illusion. The point of illusions, of course, is to enchant a target into believing that something that isn’t there, is actually present. In the case of the documentary, it was spotlighted on the originality of Picasso’s and Matisse’s. Although, and quite unexpectedly for me, another slightly profound layer of dimension was added to Welles’ narration, this time in terms of the structure of the docu-drama itself. At the end where the whole story of Kodar, her grandfather and Picasso was demonstrated, the narrator of the whole 88-minutes admitted to lying to or deceiving the audience. At the beginning, he promised that all that will be shared for the coming hour will all be true, yet perhaps as a viewer, time wasn’t really thought about that intently that it came as a dumbfounding moment when Welles revealed that he’d been bluffing for the last 18 minutes or so about Kodar. I never would’ve expected a “plot twist” of sorts to occur in a documentary. The realness of the whole film itself then came up fore questioning as well, similarly to the decoys de Hory paints.

What the fake paintings in the film and the film itself had in common was that they were looked at with face value. Perhaps for the trained artists and viewer alike, it would’ve been possible to see through the bluffs present in both works. While the film was still a documentary, and therefore, still partially factual, it still comes off as “fictional” in some aspects. Both of the two are forms of art still. Art, as described by Welles, is a lie that makes us, or rather, directs us to see the truth. When one focuses on viewing something solely on face value, that person is hindering him or herself from grabbing the essence and authenticity of that thing. Nowadays, how important or recognized is the authenticity of certain things, “art” or not? The way I see it, things will always come off as “real” as they can when we, the viewer, simply succumbs to accepting it as such. For any one person, any “real thing” can be an illusion, and vice versa.

meant to be

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

“They converge and
take shape. They twist, tangle sometimes
unravel, break, then connect again.”

It always marvels me to see how laced up my life is with those of others. As “profound” as that sounds, I am gladly in a state of wonder, and I guess some awe, when I realize how interconnected my life is with those of other people I meet. There are people that once drifted away for a while that I get to “re-meet” in different capacities. On the other hand, some of my closest friends now are people I’ve met only recently, wherein something mutual between the two of us brought us together. Maybe it’s my innate clingy-ness that’s talking, but I hold the relationships I have with those around me very near my heart. Sharing my narrative to others and getting to be a part of theirs are things I always aspire to do.

They say you meet people at a time they’re “meant to meet you”. For Mitsuha and Taki, their time of acquaintance was quite a peculiar one. Mitsuha was that girl from the countryside with strong ties to her heritage, and an even stronger yearning to break away from her rural lifestyle. Taki was that edgy, “indie” guy in high school that laid low with his own posse, delving into creative passions when he can. At first glance, they come off as the typical country-girl-and-city-boy pairing, two different people coming from two contrasting contexts. Funny enough, they literally do come from different worlds. What came as rather a twist in the whole body-swapping narrative was that during the entire situation, they were actually coming from two different time planes, three years apart.

Often when the setting of a narrative is discussed, its he focus almost always on the actual spaces where the events unfold. The film was a prominent example of how time actually plays a big role in creating and sustaining a plot. The story of Taki and Mitsuha literally created a new timeline after a life-diminishing comet struck Itomori, hometown of the female protagonist. The only common window of time that the two consciously share as their individual selves is at a moment of twilight, right before the comet obliterates everything – eventually the two are separated and their memories of each other become faded, before completely being erased. Arguably, it’s a point of debate whether or not Taki writing “I Love You” on Mitsuha’s hand, rather than embedding his own name for her to remember, was the “right” choice. Sweet (and gut-wrenching), but impractical, although then again is practicality the number one priority in their world? Their times of existence are literally split. Years later after Mitsuha completely changes the fate of Itomori by warning her father, the mayor of the town, of what impending doom awaits, a painfully perfect moment of serendipity is what makes the two body switchers meet each other again.

It is in this mix-up of events that the concept of musubi comes in. Hitoha, Mitsuha’s grandmother and overall keeper of Miyamizu traditions, was the only other individual in the film that was in on the whole body-swapping situation. In Shinto terminology, musubi is explained as the “spirit of birth and coming” and “creating and harmonising powers”. The arduous task of knot-tying that she incessantly tutored Mitsuha (and at times, Taki) on represented the essence of what it is; a bridge to the gods, and an amalgamation of the different connections humans experience. This can be something as simple as eating, to more profound features of life, such as time. The flow of time is exemplified in the intricately tied knots. They come together, break apart, but eventually can be reunited. Quite obviously, this can be an allegory to the fates of the two main characters. Somehow, the gods saw it fit that the two of them intertwine, separate temporarily, and eventually find their way back to each other. As cheesy as it is, the ending of the film where the two reconnect is a touching, somewhat triumphant close to the hullabaloo story of two people literally walking in each other’s shoes.

I cried at the end. When Taki and Mitsuha exclaimed “Your name is?” at the same time, it was the fitting , albeit somewhat expected, climax to a movie that takes its viewers to different places simultaneously. The last few minutes of the film, starting from when they encountered each other on two trains going different directions, up until they hesitantly called each other out at a staircase had me cheering for the two star-crossed individuals to finally reconnect. It was such a satisfying, and emotional feeling when they did recognize each other. Honestly, I was in a very vulnerable state of mind when we watched Kimi No Nawa in class, and I feel like that was a “good thing” for a movie like this. Being an animated film, it’s easy to dismiss anything that occurs in it to be “real”, in the terms of the events or the characters. Although the visuals and the story-lines, no matter how fantastical they were, really connected to me, like I felt like I was in both Taki’s and Mitsuha’s situations.

I guess that’s why I busted into an emotional outburst when the credits started rolling. It got me thinking about how much I (should) value the time I spend with those I keep close to my heart. I may never be able to experience their lives in the same capacity Taki and Mitsuha did, but I do realize how interconnected I am with them, and how that in itself is something so precious. It’s questionable if there’s really a concept of perfect timing in this world. The only thing I’m sure of for now, at least, is that the people I’m with now are ones I’m “meant to be” with, right here in every moment that goes by.

#SorryNotSorry to bother you

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

Following the rather “cliche” story-line of a guy trying to get from rags to riches, Boots Riley’s directorial debut was anything but a typical film. A blunt and satirical critique on themes of social inequality, the movie does not hold back on exposing how these themes are very prevalent in society today. The realities surrounding capitalism, racism and labor exploitation were what comprised most of the film, and whilst watching it, it was difficult for me (or any viewer at that) to not feel uneasy. Although, maybe feeling uneasy about it was a “good” thing.

Cassius Green had to find a way out of sleeping in his uncle’s garage. Juggling that with trying to impress his femme fatale girlfriend, Detroit, he find himself as a telemarketer for RegalView. Initially finding it hard to keep up with receiving multiple calls on end, he gets a tip from his coworker to use a “white voice” in order to succeed. This in itself is an aspect in the movie that already gets a viewer feeling kind of dazed. The film is set in what seems like modern times. What makes the use of a white voice that seems so “realistic”, per se, so disturbing is how it comes off so normalized in Cash’s world. Later on in the film when Cash moves up in his ranks and is invited to a WorryFree party, he blatantly spits out a “rap” that is literally just repeating the N-word. These instances, among others, are obvious and satirical commentaries on racism. As an audience member living in a world where racism exists, it definitely comes off as disturbing due to its blunt attack on the issue, almost rubbing it in my face.

Steve Lift, the CEO of WorryFree, the number one company for labor exploitation and dehumanization, perfectly encapsulates the slapstick nature of the film. Lift was unapologetic about everything. From forcing Cash to rap just because he’s black to creating the mutant-esque equisapiens from actual human beings, Armie Hammer’s character held back nothing from his rather Machiavellian nature. Lift is an evident representation of the greed present in modern-day capitalism – and scarily enough, how unapologetic it could be. His main threats are the union started by Cash’s clique, composed by Squeeze, his girlfriend and Sal. Cash jumps ship when he experiences and enjoys the benefits of utilizing the white voice, and the most publicity the union has is when they made throwing a soda can at Cash an internet meme.

Eventually, when Cash is panicked from sniffing some substance that could potentially transform him into a horse hybrid himself, he attempts to expose WorryFree for their wicked ways. After literally going through a lot of shit, he shows a video done by the equisapiens on the painfully comical I Got the Shit Kicked Out of Me. It backfires. WorryFree ends up raking up even more acclaim for their “scientific innovation”, which leaves our main protagonist no choice but to reconcile with the union he left. An uprising ensues later on, and it’s safe to assume the equisapiens, with their immense strength, got to unchain themselves from the company. Cash unexpectedly becomes one of them. The film closes with the humanoid horse beings breaking into Lift’s residence, ready to give him a piece of their mind.

“Maybe the artist is being literal and WorryFree is turning humans into horses… and fucking them”
Detroit

Sorry to Bother You spotlights unnerving and unusual themes through usual and literal representations and structures. One can clearly tell how the 122 minutes tackles very real and rampant societal issues we experience today. The uncanny thing about it all is how it discussed and represented these issues in such lighthearted ways that they translate as “the usual”. What the film achieved greatly is that it starred racism and capitalism, among the other issues present, more than anything. Even with the slapstick and comedic nature of the film, it made it known that these things really are “the usual”. Most of the time in film, heavy issues like these are masked through metaphors in order to make them more “palatable” for viewership, but Sorry to Bother You did not care about that. The film sugar-coated nothing, and the societal matters and conflicts highlighted told the audiences, “Hey, we exist and you better do something about us or else we’re just going to continue fucking things up.” Through the campy essence of it, one of the last things the film aimed to do was to make us laugh – in some ways, it was a call to action more than anything.

Watching a movie that makes evident racism and labor exploitation, along with commentaries on art, media and inequalities in general, can leave anyone who watches feel heavy and disturbed. Although the apparent “charm” in Sorry to Bother You is what made it digestible in the best and worst ways. It was entertaining and it would be hard for anyone to hold back a giggle or a “what the fuck” whilst viewing it. Although, for me, what the film envisioned to accomplish is in fact, to bother whoever is watching. Several elements of it was undoubtedly disturbing, yet maybe that was the point all along. It’s comparable to eating some healthy vegetable that tastes horridly bitter – you don’t like how it goes down but you know it’s somehow good for you. The film required a perfectly comfortable viewer to get shook and awakened to the realities it tackles. Albeit fantastical in some way, the matters discussed in the film was very much real and thriving. In the end, no labor union or mammal mutation was being asked from the audience; the feature only imparts a simple message – stay bothered.

grit and glamour

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

“He became someone else, yet again, he always was.”

Bowie, Mercury, Prince and even Grace Jones all come to mind with the highs and lows of superstar Maxwell Demon. Ever since he was fair and quaint Thomas, he was destined to take the world by storm with the different on and off stage personas he adopts. It’s glitz and glamour or bust for him. Every stage was for him to own, and every evening was his time to shine – to glimmer so bright that those who can’t take it simply don’t deserve to be a witness to it. That was the life of Maxwell Demon, and it’s no different from the life of Brian Slade.

As someone who chases spotlights incessantly, the superstar life is something that immensely appeals to me. It may not be belting out tunes or surfing through an audience, but to be noticed for my talents in a way that I feel so glorified is a feeling I yearn to have, even in smaller day-to-day situations. Like Slade, who I am on stage (literally or figuratively) is only a frillier version of who I am on my own. The personas I possess both crave the limelight, and aspire to genuinely deserve every inch of it.

Slade, along with other characters such as Curt Wild and Tommy Stone, with their novel names, all show how versatile yet “grounded” one’s characterization can be – meaning to say that one’s character profile can be fluid but can still be based firmly on a backbone of identity. In simpler (and less mema) terms, Slade, or Jonathan Meyers, who portrays the rock star, manages to mold his character profile through all the events of the film, while still being able to remind the audience that whether or not he is on stage performing or in bed with a lover, he is still Slade.

The way the film was structured was an effective means in illustrating this aspect of the characters and the actors that portray them. In specific vignettes that revolve around different narratives of Slade’s life, we can observe how each person’s perceptions of hum differ in terms of their personal and professional connections. Journalist Arthur Stuart becomes the means by which these vignettes are exhibited. Through these varied lens, we get to see how Maxwell Demon comes to be in different perspectives. The main prompt for Stuart is to recall the life and times of Slade after his controversial bout in staging his own murder in one of his concerts. Through his investigation, themes of gay culture, the music scene and intimacy can all be observed in the life of the superstar – all of which contribute to his overall identity. In a way of saying it, all these paint the canvas of who Slade is. The complexity of his character is something that adds dimension to the narrative being pieced together through all the anecdotes being collected. As it may come off as confusing at first, it all culminates (or alternatively, perhaps it never does) when Stuart meets Slade first hand, and we can see the “real” him under all the fantasy.

At the beginning of the film, there is a scene of young Thomas being “born” from some alien-esque tribe. He was destined to take over the stinking world. Whether he achieved that or not is subjective, although what he did manage to achieve was to take full control of who he is. Through all the love and sex, grit and glamour, Slade fully shows how one can become the several things one ought to be. At the core of it all, he remained to be who he was set out to be – a super star destined for some kind of world domination. His manners of identifying and expressing himself exhibited the firm grip he has on who is and how he’s going to live his life. Ultimately, Slade “killed” himself. Yet someone who has that much control and power over his own life knew when it was time to bid bye-bye. Even if his staged murder didn’t seem as successful as it did, perhaps it was for him; because a true star knows when it’s shun all its shine. The way I interpret it, fading into obscurity was the means for him to keep some glimmer for himself.

the road home for Mike Waters

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

The idea of “home” is and has always been something fragile for me. For me, “home” is something, somewhere or someone that has a comforting familiarity to it that any one person keeps running back to. This rather cheesy definition of home comes with bearing the fact that we aren’t always connected to it at all times, and that separation from it only makes us yearn for it even more. For narcoleptic gigolo Mike Waters, he gets visions of his home whenever he’s about to pass out during an episode. Images and scenes of his mom taking care of him in his childhood cloud his mind every time he’s about to lose control of his wakefulness. Running home to mama was something he held unto in his rather frivolous lifestyle of street hustling.

When Scott comes into the scene, everything gets wonderfully gay and at the same time, a little bit more fragile. I appreciated how initially, they were set out to be best buds who would help one another with their familial issues and endeavors – with the occasional threesome coming into play when needed. Although the rather soft scene by the campfire, where Mike confesses that he actually has fell in love Scott dented that platonic relationship for the both of them (coming from my personal expert homosexual opinion, you never really go back to being “just friends” after one side has harbored feelings – but ANYWAY that’s besides the point). Scott’s involvement in Mike’s narrative shows how he was gained an association as “home” to Mike, since he now has an affinity for him, and for a sex worker, that is not common.

What got to me in the whole 100 minutes were Mike’s constant efforts to find his mom, selling his body and going through haywire circumstances all for the sake of finding her. The film gives little context to what happened between the time that Mike was a toddler being cradled by his mystery mom and the point where he prostitutes himself for money. There’s slight explanation when Richard tells Mike that he is not his real father, but this proves to still be a little vague when trying to understand what really happened to Mike as a teenager, and how he developed his attitudes now. One can maybe infer that he has grown to have “daddy issues”, being disconnected with his father/s and often finding himself in steamy relations with men older than him. Admittedly, this is a random way to judge his character, but it contributes to a certain point though; that at the end of it all, Mike is really just yearning for a sense of family.

With Scott, Hans, his mystery father and even Bob, Waters had a tough time trying to figure out where he belonged or where he came from. The film starts off and ends with him on a road, and throughout the story he seems to “teleport” from place to place through his narcolepsy. It seemed like Mike was jumping car to car before fully knowing who he really is – and as cliche as that sounds – his lack of identity feeds the assumption that in his life, his journey on the road started abruptly, and he might not really know where he is actually going.

“I’m a connoisseur of roads. Best tasting roads. This road will never end. It probably goes around the world.”

Being a connoisseur of roads is not necessarily something one aspires to be. Mike uses this metaphor to show how he’s literally been on the road all his life, and how he unknowingly and helplessly remains to be there with no sense of direction. His wanting to “get home” has him trekking on an endless road of feeling painfully lonesome and lost. The sense of familiarity he is on the hunt for is a fleeting feeling, with things like being told his mom isn’t actually in Italy and that his best friend who he has fallen in love with doesn’t feel the same way (OUCH) serving as roadblocks. In the end, the film ends with his body being abducted by who knows who, going who knows where. It’s likely that he never actually made it home, getting himself confined to his lifestyle of passing out and waking up somewhere new.

Home is more of a concept, or rather, a feeling, more than a tangible thing. As Mike was in pursuit of these, he had to go through a whole lot more sensations before he eventually was not able to fulfill his nostalgic endeavor. Albeit the film had shaky transitions and rather hazy plot lines, what it achieved for me was that it got through with it’s message. The road to home is paved differently for everyone, and for Mike Waters, it seemed like it would never end.

the significance of four walls in Futureless Things

Written by Emerson Enriquez 170819

Choosing what flavor of bottled iced coffee to get is the most time I ever spend in any Ministop or 7-Eleven. The most conversation I ever have with of the store clerks would be them asking me if I have a loyalty card, or if I would like to avail of some kind of promo. The already minimal interactions I have with them can easily be done mute – give item, scan item, pay for item, give receipt, leave. It’s a seamless in and out, and there’s little depth to any of it. It’s so rare that I ever get to ask what their name is (if it wasn’t already as obvious as peeking at their name tag), where they come from or how much they make. Once I make my way inside the store, it’s a quick sequence of mundane movements before I’m eventually out of it again.

Convenience stores aren’t really a communal place. The atmosphere doesn’t quite lend itself to conversation or any profound interaction with anyone new you meet inside. In Futureless Things though, each hour is colored differently, as a new clerk takes over the cash registrar, a new, mind-riveting story unfolds. With all the new characters coming in, each with a different narrative, the only thing that remained constant was the setting; a clear, glass-walled, seemingly regular convenience store. What the movie supplemented for me was a more profound understanding of what venues are “appropriate” for storytelling, and why they are considered to be so.

The backbone of the all the different plot lines was that all these cashiers – a lesbian, an aspiring actor, an immigrant, an English learner, a school dropout and a “ladies man” – worked under a branch owned by Jeon Doo-hwan. Doo-hwan is under fire as business is not booming, and his property is in need of salvaging. The film managed to exhibit effectively how monotonous convenience store “culture” is, which was given several layers when the clerks would have some kind of interaction with particular customers who would come in contact with them. The four walls of the store became the discussion venue of social issues such as xenophobia and racism, among others, as well as the stage for some rather fantastical occurences. Take a lady transforming into a box or having an assembly eerie zombies perched outside the vicinity, for examples.

As I’ve said, the only thing that remained consistent in the entire hullabaloo was the convenience store itself. The bodies moving inside inside it and the events that transpired were the only elements that changed throughout. For some thing like a convenience store which is something traditionally portrayed as mundane, adding dimensions of story to it gives a viewer like me, new perception of what can occur in any venue. The setting of any narrative has always been a background element for me, and when it’s put in the spotlight like it is in Futureless Things, it showed how essential of an element it actually is any story. Immense character and plot developments occurred in those four walls, and it can be inferred that if it we’re not set in such a place, the impact would have not been the same. The charm that the seemingly normal place had allowed itself to be transformed into different platforms holding various story lines and genres.

“I’m not gonna be working here forever!” was exclaimed by one the clerks after having been fired from her job. As trivial as this line can seem to be, it spoke some volume to me – she’s seeking a future outside the four walls that cage her for an hour or two. The “futureless-ness” of the lives of the clerks shows in how each of them probably live a life going in and out of the store and having no “newness” in their lives. It could even be possible that they’re not even aware of what goes on in each other’s lives, or at least how the other’s shift went. Having the capitalist Gods breathing down his neck even made the boss of the store halt any future from ever occurring in his life.

Ultimately, the only thing they really do share in common is the place they all work in, going in and out of it routinely. From what was portrayed in the film, they each respectively had a more-eventful-than-usual day. This novelty in their relatively dull lives adds dimensions to not only their personal experiences, but as well as that of the venue where it all transpired. Their stories, collated, is the one unified narrative special to the convenience store alone.