Coma

Michael Crichton's 1978 medical thriller, Coma, based on a Robin Cook novel, an author my mother always enjoyed, was an enjoyable, tense film. Michael Douglas is wonderfully attractive at such a young age, and though I despise Genevieve Bujold, she seems rather appropriate and convincingly hysterical/non-hysterical at once. The film's interest in gender politics within the medical field remains relevant; check this quote from an article in the most recent issue of the New Yorker: "Doctors, as it happens, have very particular taste in shoes. According to a physician at Sloan-Kettering with an excellent footwear aesthetic, surgeons like clogs, but internists prefer rich-looking loafers (clogs with ventilation holes, clogsonline.com; $64.95; Gucci loafer, for men, with a silver horse bit, neimanmarcus.com; $595). Nurses, of course, wear nurse shoes (shoeline.com has forty-nine styles of white shoes; $35 to $67.95)." [9/1/08, p. 89] The gender aspect also complicates the '70's conspiracy anxiety film (a favorite genre of yours truly). 

The film dwells little on the actual workings and meanings of the medical crime committed - a respectful vagueness, showing the filmmaker's trust in the viewer's ability to make connections and suspend disbelief as far as the objective world goes. The psychological aspect is more important. Dr. Wheeler seems to overreact and/or "play the gender card" rather frequently, but the men around her are disturbingly prone to rulings of female hysteria and general douche-baggy behavior. When is a string of coincidences just a string of coincidences, a pattern of bad luck, or simple human error? Whenever the defendant is accused of "conspiracy to commit murder" or "conspiracy to commit fraud," doesn't it seem derisive to the prosecution? Perhaps the general negative aura and immediate skepticism surrounding the word "conspiracy" is the result of some... conspiracy? 

TRON

Steven Lisberger's 1982 sci-fi classic Tron is... lovely? An enjoyable watch from start to finish, the film is not incredibly original, advanced, difficult or moving - but who can stifle a giggle of joy, a sigh of pleasure upon viewing the wonderfully bad special effects? Jeff Bridges is adorable, though seems almost to scorn the film he's starring in. The focal point of the film seems to waver between the battle to destroy "Master Control Program," watching human-like "programs" compete in computer games, and Flynn's retribution, both as a supremely successful gamer/programmer and as the original creator of the games Dillinger stole from him many years ago. Flynn shows no passion or real bitterness, so it's difficult to recall that this last is the motivating factor behind most of the film's action. The games offer an enjoyable avenue of tension and creativity, but the film seems to drop them quickly, barely exploring a chance for real special effects glory. Finally, the allegorical possibilities offered by the MCP are also only vaguely hinted at; the programs wish for freedom, but interpreting this in terms of real life doesn't offer much. 

Complaints aside, I'd re-watch Tron any day. 

Mondo Cane

Gualtiero Jacopetti, Franco Prosperi and Paolo Cavara's 1962 "schockumentary" Mondo Cane is mildly offensive, humorous, and overall rather easy to watch. My roommates both wandered in and remained till the end, at turns gasping over the graphic depiction of the slaughter of animals, laughing at the strange choreography (whether clearly influenced by the filmmakers or apparently "natural") and commenting on the voice-over's bland, Euro-centric narration. Overall, I found the aura of the "shocking" surrounding the film entirely false; animals are killed en masse everyday, and people in other parts of the world are, in some ways, different from the Jones. 

The film's real high point is in the depiction of a destitute, confused wildlife in the Bikini atoll still suffering from the persistent effects of the atomic bomb. The camera moves along a trail of little white bits floating on the surface of a very, very blue water as the narrator tells us that these are the corpses of white butterflies killed by the toxic water. The first response may be to ask why the filmmakers didn't interfere as the large, sad-eyed turtles wandered not towards the water after laying their eggs, but instead to their land-bound deaths in the hot sun of the desert, having lost their sense of direction in the cloud of radiation hovering over the beach - and the second to realize the true meaning and importance of a different kind of intervention. The birds burrow into the earth to lay their eggs, and end up staying - it is better, they have realized, to bury your face in the sand than to face the horrors of "civilized" human behavior. 

Equus

Sidney Lumet's 1977 film Equus sticks perhaps too closely to the original script - which isn't to say that I've read it; merely, the film is sometimes too long-winded and seems to swing from an effort to maintain the feeling of a play (in the manner of speaking, for example), a convincingly "realistic" portrayal, and a uniquely cinematic interpretation of the text. The concluding slow-zoom into Richard Burton's face is quite a let-down after the drama of the preceding sequence. 

The word "pain" is repeated throughout; the pain Hesther sees in Alan's behavior, the emotional and corporeal (or both) experiences Alan has throughout, and the doctor's equation of pain with passion and the political meaning of "healing" this pain. A frustrating muddling. The word, concept, idea is troubling; Sontag and Scarry immediately jump to mind. The distinction ought to be maintained - the elements of choice and awareness and self-consciousness must be taken into account.