Entertainment for Thinkers

It has recently been noted that this summer at the multi-plex was a rather event-less one. With a drop in ticket sales everywhere, and outside of the usual book and toy features (Harry Potter, G.I. Joe, Transformers) there really wasn't that much to have gotten excited about; animation was exciting, but didn't find much of a market outside of families, horror was largely M.I.A., most of the comedies were stiff, the blockbusters were noisy, the dramas were limp. And just when it seemed the season would have ended as unspectacularly as it began (although these fingers are still crossed for Tarantino's Inglorious Basterds), along comes District 9.
Written and directed by newbie South African writer-director Neill Blomkamp, the movie bears the name-tag of Peter Jackson, he of The Lord of the Rings fame, as producer. Jackson's talent as a director won't be re-hashed here, but suffice it to say, it must be a special occasion for him to have attached his name to such a project, even previewing the movie himself at July's Comic-Con in San Diego.
The film is a straight-forward one- from the first jittery frame it seeks to grab and hold your attention. And indeed it does. Meet Wikus Van der Merwe, recently appointed head agent in charge of MNU's (Multi-National United) plan to ship the alien residents of District 9 to District 10. Yes. You read correctly. Alien residents. How did the country (the film is set in Johannesburg, South Africa) become a residence to aliens, you wonder? 20-odd years ago a space ship hovered over New York and Chicago, before coming to a stand-still over the city of Johannesburg. An expedition from Earth arrives and cuts its way into the ship. Inside, the humans find millions of alien worker drones, sick and malnourished, and a massive operation is begun to transport the aliens from their ship to the ground, feed them, and give them a new home. But what starts out well-intentioned (District 9) quickly becomes a concentration camp and a slum. When the slum, and its residents become nuisances for the human residents of South Africa, the MNU decide to evict them.
Van der Merwe is not competent to handle the operation of which he is placed in charge of- the film's first frame proves this, and on his first day, he is contaminated by alien fluid, breaks his arm and has to be rushed to the hospital. Sharlto Copely in the role of Van der Merwe is superb. As the main human interface for viewers of the film, he easily wins our sympathy as the odds against him stack up. A naive character is he, one strongly believing in the system, quickly becoming a victim of the very cause he sought to champion.
The settlement for the aliens became a teeming shantytown like so many ghettos in the developing world, with the relatively minor distinction of being home to tall, skinny bipeds with insect-like faces and bodies that seem to combine biological and mechanical features. Though there is evidence that those extraterrestrials- known in derogatory slang as "prawns" because of their vaguely crustacean appearance- represent an advanced civilization, their lives on Earth are marked by squalor and dysfunction. And they are viewed by South Africans of all races with suspicion, occasional pity and xenophobic hostility. This is where District 9 the film shines; not in its presentation of the aliens, and certainly not in its presentation of the aliens in relation to the city's human residents, indeed nowhere in film history has aliens ever been fully accepted into society without some modicum of hostility and suspicion. Where the film shines is in its allegorical politics- it is no coincidence that this xenophobic hostility takes place in South Africa, in the exact place where apartheid coloured one ethnicity's treatment of the other. That country’s history of apartheid and its continuing social problems are never mentioned in the film, but they hardly need to be. Indeed, the film’s implications extend far beyond the boundaries of a particular nation (as there are even shades of the Nazi concentration camps), which is taken as more or less representative of the planet as a whole.
Van der Merwe is a pathetic little paper-pusher, and it says a lot about director Blomkamp's sense of humour to hang human's moral redemption on his shoulders. This occasional offbeat humor is needed - the material is so bleak that without it, it would be a tough 112 minutes to endure, after all, it is a summer blockbuster. Blomkamp and co-writer Terri Tatchell are not above having a laugh at, say, the aliens' jones for cat food, cans and all, and the popularity of inter-species prostitution. Watching the film, one can't help but be reminded of another nifty alien movie, Cloverfield. Both films use unique camera-work to patch their stories together, leaving the audience to figure things out for themselves, inadvertently subverting an entire genre of film. But where Cloverfield seemed a by-product of our up-to-the-minute Blackberry/Youtube generation, and a somewhat spoof of our need to put a camera in front of something and press the record button, District 9 uses a documentary style to flesh its story out. In a flurry of mock-news images and talking-head documentary chin-scratching, the story is filled in by people Van der Merwe worked and associated with. We get to understand how he became to be in charge of the operation, then we are thrust head-first into how the story develops or, rather, unravels.
It has to be admitted that the film shifts from speculative science fiction to zombie bio-horror and then, less subtly, turns into an escape-action-chase movie full of explosions, gun-play and vehicular mayhem. But it also has to be admitted that the world in which Blomkamp has created never becomes unbelievable for even a second, so much so that one can easily take for granted the carefully rendered details of the setting, the tightness of the editing and the inventiveness of the special effects. And what amazing special effects they are- the aliens are cinematic works of art! Made expressive and soulful, they talk with a mixture of whirring, clicking speech and English. Even if one wasn't paying attention to the sub-titles (yes, there are sub-titles) they are still easily understood. The action sequences are expertly choreographed, easy to follow, and generate a sense of tension and excitement, with the biggest and, quite possibly, best involving a giant robot-like creature. (Take that, Transformers.)
Expanding upon the ideas explored in Blomkamp's 2005 short, "Alive in Joburg", the film recalls the likes of other such dystopian films such as The Day the Earth Stood Still, David Cronenberg's The Fly, Spielberg's War of the Worlds and Independence Day. Absent are the high-minded ideals evident in more optimistic productions such as E.T., Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Star Trek: First Contact. Here, the premise is simple: the humanitarian impulses that lead to the planet welcoming the aliens are quickly overridden by greed and xenophobia. Some try to profit from the newcomers while others, ruled by fear, want to destroy them. Some might argue that Blomkamp's perspective is bleak and cynical, but a cursory glimpse at the whole of recorded history certainly validates his position. Just pick any history book up.
At its core the film tells the story- hardly an unfamiliar one in the literature of modern South Africa- of how a member of the socially dominant group becomes aware of the injustice that keeps him in his place and the others, his designated inferiors, in theirs. The cost he pays for this knowledge is severe, as it must be, given the dreadful contours of the system. But if the film’s view of the world is bleak, it is not quite nihilistic. It suggests that sometimes the only way to become fully human is to be completely alienated. When Van der Merwe runs back to District 9 for refuge, the film speaks volumes on how everyone of us, black or white, all need the very same things- acceptance, safety, shelter and sympathy.
The filmmakers don’t draw out these themes with a heavy, didactic hand. Instead, in the best B-movie tradition, they embed their ideas in an ingenious and suspenseful genre entertainment, one that respects your intelligence even as it makes your eyes pop and your stomach turn. And oh how your stomach will turn. Like another witty genre film released this season, Drag Me to Hell, the film's reliance on things that will make you squirm is almost endless. But that's fine- B-movies can get away with that sort of gimmick if it fits perfectly well into the plot of things.
The film accomplishes a rare thing: it's a science fiction story with depth and thought-provoking ideas that still has room for shoot-outs, explosions, and bloody violence. The R-rating is well earned- persons, after being hit by an energy weapon, explode in showers of blood, and Wikus' transformation is just as gruesome as when something similar happened to Jeff Goldblum in The Fly.
By inverting an axiomatic question of the U.F.O. genre- what are they going to do to us?- the movie poses a different kind of hypothetical puzzle. What would we do to them? The answer, derived from intimate knowledge of how we have treated one another for centuries, is not pretty. By realigning our sympathies, challenging what we come to expect from film and indeed entertainment, and by presenting heavy moral themes all packaged up in the neat frills of a summer blockbuster, one can't help but remember another film that did these very same things exactly one year ago- Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight. This film may not be as incendiary a work as that, but as the summer of 2009 comes to a close, District 9 will go down as one the season's very best.

Book of the Month- It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini

Laughter is one very good way to cope with weighty or maudlin topics. Author Ned Vizzini knows this. Dealing with such themes as teenage depression and "suicide ideation", the novel, It's Kind of a Funny Story, his second, comes disguised as a book for young adults. But where that pigeonholing may throw some serious readers off, Vizzini writes with enough universality to place him way above his counterparts.
At 19, Vizzini published his first book, Teen Angst? Naah..., a collection of essays based on the writer having attended high school. Like his first novel, Be Chill (about a dork that swallows a pill-sized supercomputer that turns him into the coolest guy in school), his voice as a writer wasn't yet developed. Still, he found a niche among a loyal cult following. Published in 2006 at the age of 25, It's Kind of a Funny Story displays Vizzini's new found maturity. Having spent a brief stint being hospitalized for depression, Vizzini drew on his own life story, giving us something more real and palpable.
The novel begins, "It's so hard to talk when you want to kill yourself." It's an attention-grabbing first line, and one has to wonder what it says about the person who narrates it. His name is Craig Gilner, and like many ambitious New York City teenagers his age (15), he sees entry into the prestigious Manhattan's Executive Pre-Professional High School as the ticket to his future- getting into the right college, landing the right job, a happy marriage, a comfortable life... He studies day and night for the entrance exam, and eventually passes, being granted entry. That's when things start to get crazy.
At his new school, Craig realizes that he isn't brilliant compared to the other kids; he's just average, and maybe not even that. He soon sees his once-perfect future crumbling away. Just reading about his assignments is anxiety-producing — nine classes, unbearable reading lists, four hours of homework a night. One class requires reading two hefty daily newspapers and analyses of the stock market. Within months Craig has "stress vomiting for the first time." The more behind he gets, the more paralyzed he is, until he contemplates jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge. Instead, he calls 1-800-SUICIDE and checks himself into a nearby hospital. His mom's response when he calls from the E.R. is touching: "I am so proud of you. . . . This is the bravest thing you've ever done."
Vizzini's humour runs deep, focused not only on the comic impact of any given line, but on the role of humour itself, the necessity of laughter and the realization that it's O.K., even necessary, to lighten up when things seem bad. Once hospitalized, he meets a plethora of characters including a transsexual sex addict, the Egyptian Muqtada, the self-elected President Armelio, and the elusive Humble. When Craig starts to share a laugh about a fellow patient, he stops himself- "I bite my tongue. I can't help it. I shouldn't be laughing at any of these people . . . but maybe it's O.K., somewhere, somehow, because we're enjoying life?" While separated from high school, family and friends, Craig is forced to confront the sources of his anxiety.
Craig's best friend is Aaron, smoker of pot, boyfriend of Nia. In one telling chapter, Craig admits- "I started to work in phases a little bit. For three weeks i'd be cool, fine, functional... Then i'd get bad. Usually it happened after a chill session at Aaron's house, one of those glorious time when we really got high and watched a really bad movie... I'd wake up on the couch in Aaron's living room... and i'd want to die." While hospitalized, Craig realizes that Aaron, and especially his girlfriend Nia, are major sources of his depression. He calls Nia up one night, and dismisses his relationship with her, or so he thinks. The phone call causes Nia to visit him at the hospital, a confrontation that causes his budding relationship with Noelle, a teenage who has self-inflicted wounds to her face, to hit a snag. Leaving a note on his chair one day, Noelle gives Craig an opportunity to meet her. Their meeting is strange, a game of sorts where one asks a question and the other party has to ask another question, with no pressure or need to answer the previous question asked. Soon, they start hanging out, going to recreational sessions before the rumour that they are together starts getting around. Vizzini uses Craig to show how bright, academically gifted teenagers are constantly under pressure and can crack accordingly; through the characterization of Noelle, we see another side of teenage self-hatred- "I cut my face because too many people wanted something from me," she admits. "There was so much pressure... You have to be the prude or the slut, and if you pick one, other people hate you for it, and you can't trust anyone anymore, because they're all after the same thing..." Teenagers have a lot of unhealthy expectations placed on their heads, and Vizzini does not sugarcoat this aspect of the novel. At one point Craig admits- "There are a lot of people who make a lot of money off the fifth- and sixth-life crises. All of a sudden they have a ton of consumers scared out of their minds and willing to buy facial cream, designer jeans, SAT test prep courses, condoms, cars, scooters, self-help books, watches, wallets, stocks, whatever... all the crap that the twenty-somethings used to buy, they now have the ten-somethings buying."
Though dealing with depression, the novel is never depressing, and always offers what one can recognize as hope. When Craig discovers drawing as an outlet for healing, his art takes a refreshingly original form, creating beauty from confusion. For some, it may not ring true that Craig adjusts so quickly to life on the ward, falling into the rhythm of the patients' various shticks with ease, though his relief-based high from jumping off the treadmill could explain it. That he achieves so much during a five-day stay — inspiring a perpetual sleeper to join the living, starting a relationship with a skittish girl — also pushes the limits of believability. The most obvious solution to Craig's problem doesn't occur to him until the end, but that is entirely plausible, as it's his entanglement in the responsibility of meeting expectations that has made him lose sight of other options.
Vizzini is an able writer, his characters at times are formulaic, but in his development of them all, he makes them very believable- there's the doting mother, the father who cracks jokes to ease tension, the out-spoken sister easily embarrassed by her older brother, and of course all the crazies at the mental hospital- these are are all characters we know well, but what Vizzini does with them all is imbue them with a bit of pathos and a lot of humour, allowing us to invest interest in each one. The most note-worthy of them all is Craig. As the protagonist, he has a strong and clear voice of his own. Craig Gilner is a palpably real character worthy of a place in the reader's long-term memory.
The self-deprecating tone of the novel lends itself to the overall tone of humour, and how else should Vizzini have presented his heavy themes? With a book of this nature, similarities to Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar will abound. But while that novel is ground-breaking for its emotional honesty, It's Kind of a Funny Story stands apart because its author is not trying to give insights into depression, or give us an understanding of depression. His book is more concerned with presenting a character that is on the brink of a personal break-through, not self-destruction, a character that could very well be us.
The catalyst for that personal breakthrough is Noelle. In Craig's interaction with her, he comes to realize that "Everybody has problems. Some people just hide their crap better than others." Noelle, in her own way, gives something to look forward to when he is eventually released from the hospital at the end of the text. Indeed, she is the one who urges him to create something from his childhood when he had a creative block in an arts and craft session at the hospital. At that point, he is reminded of the maps that he would draw when he was youger, maps that he would encircle in pictures of the shape of a human head. It's these very creations that Craig comes to realize as a source of his happiness, an aspect of his life that he would like to pursue and develop on his way to feeling whole.
One of the most disturbing realities present in this novel is the many characters who need meds to cope with getting through school. These youngsters are under so much pressure to do well, they often have to deal with and overcome many anxieties and emotional instability in their lives. In his presentation of these characters, Vizzini makes a statement on the youngsters in our own lives- we all know them, they sit the GSAT and CXC exams every year; they're the ones who've just been accepted in college; they're the ones we watch on the National Spelling Bee, Schools Challenge Quiz and National Schools Debate every season. In their pursuit of excellence, these youngsters are often pushed to the very edge of unhappiness, sometimes unfulfillment and self-loathing when they experience failure. We know this to be true- we were there ourselves. Through Craig's character, Vizzini warns against this and presents great ammunition for his stance. We root for Craig to heal, and we root for all the others in the same boat — perhaps piloted by much more demanding parents than Craig's.
As much as it is a text for young adults, lending itself to readability (it should take much less than a week to get through), Vizzini has presented a rich, humourous, satisfying and memorable story. His motifs of depression and unhappiness, as well as his themes of self-actualization and the pursuit of happiness are universal- we all get depressed and we all want to be happy no matter how old we are, or whatever situations we may face. His story eschews the ubiquitous faddishness associated with the genre (Twilight, anyone?), instead giving us a text that can be embraced by teens and their parents. The New York Times Book Review, in its review, called It's Kind of a Funny Story "an important book", and indeed, it is.

Questions for discussion:
1. Vizzini has his protagonist, Craig, smoke a lot of marijuana (pot) at the beginning of the novel. What possible statement could he be trying to make as it concerns the emotional instability of real-life teenagers who engage in this activity?
2. There are several instances where hospital staff admit that Craig's purpose in being admitted is not to fix him, per se, and indeed, he goes through a lot of psychologists and psychiatrists in a very short time. What is the author possibly trying to say about psychology and psychiatry?
3. Can Noelle be seen as a deux ex machina? How so?
4. Compare how much of the novel is unbelievable to how much is. How does this subtract from the effectiveness of the text?