A Closer Look: Minority Report Scene Analysis

The sequence that will be subject to analysis is from Minority Report (2002). It begins when John Anderton decides not to kill Leo Crow even though that is what was foretold by the precogs. It ends with Leo dying in a similar yet different way by Anderton’s hand.

This scene reveals a lot about what the film says about free will in the face of a seemingly set destiny and the inevitability of some occurrences despite the choices people make themselves.

After informing Crow of his legal rights, Anderton lowers his gun and asks him breathlessly, “Do you understand these rights?” Before he can finish his sentence, Crow asks him, “You’re not going to kill me?” This arrest is completely different from the capture of Howard Marks. That time, Anderton was sure of the situation literally down to the exact minute and even showed a bit of arrogant humour to scare this would be murderer by asking his fellow officer to “give the man his hat”, being the halo that would incapacitate him for the rest of his life. Here, Anderton is vulnerable, even in this seeming position of power, with a gun pointed at an unarmed man. Understanding that murder is not the solution and not wanting to be controlled by fate, he listens to Agatha who told him he could choose. The camera goes back to Crow who is oddly distressed even though his life had just been spared. He says “You were supposed to kill me!” The camera focuses in on Anderton’s confusion. The fact that he had made a tough choice not to kill the man he believed killed his son is made more difficult when the target is telling him what he should do. While Crow becomes the one begging for his life to be ended for the sake of his family, he seems to gain the upper hand as Anderton remains in a position of confusion and indecision. 

When it is revealed that the whole scenario had been a set up by an unknown person, Anderton clings to the photos of Crow and his son, Sean as evidence. Crow dismisses them as fakes that were provided for him. This not only supports Crow’s story but also challenges the whole system of pre-crime. The visions seen by the precogs are projected onto the computers and seen as images by the pre-crime police. The actions of pre-crime are determined by what the images seem to tell them and if these could be faked or not what they seem due to their nature as data which could be altered, erased or uploaded anew, the ‘perfect’ system is unreliable. Just because something is pictured does not make it true and also interpretations of images are subjective and vary depending on who is deciphering them. When it comes to arresting someone for murder, objective fact should act as proof and be proven beyond reasonable doubt. In this instance, it is clear that pictures, especially in this futuristic time of advanced technology should not be proof that a person has done anything, let alone murder. After this, Anderton loses all desire to end the man’s life. While they discussed the ruse, Anderton is shown on the left side of the frame looking at Crow on the right side. In between them in the background sits Agatha amongst the photos, highlighting her lingering power in the scene. Without her advice, this truth would never have been revealed however this did not come from a god-like omnipotence but her moral character. When Crow admitted that he was told to act like he killed Sean, a close up of Anderton looking quizzical as he puts the pieces together is followed be a close up of Agatha. As she is hunching over, the shot appears slightly high angled, making her look more vulnerable. He stares at Anderton then her eyes dart towards Crow. While she can she the future, she does not know everything and all of the context surrounding her fragmented visions. While she is compared to a God as a precog in The Temple, she clearly does not know all and has no more control over what happens than any other human being involved. This shot makes it clear that Agatha is as surprised as Anderton at this revelation. Her suspicious, darting eyes emphasises that what you see and hear is not always the truth. She may also be feeling strange seeing this confrontation in real time. Being a precog, she is always looking to the future but only in glimpses. She never actually found out how the situations completely played out and the details around them. So this fleshed out moment of realisation is something of a new experience for her. 

In the moments leading up to his death, Crow seems to have the most power however it happens by accident, as if it was always going to happen one way or another. The men struggle with the gun which Crow makes face him by grabbing Anderton’s hand. This is followed by an over the shoulder shot showing Anderton as he tries to negotiate with Crow. His eyes are honest but also pleading and desperate. He then says the words that were in the original vision seen by the precogs, “Goodbye Crow.” Almost as if it was a trigger to restart the inevitable death of Crow, Crow grabs Anderton’s hand again and pulls it forward. Agatha screams before the gun shoots, making it appear as if she knew what would happen. The camera quickly cuts from the two men facing each other with the smoke of the gunshot between them, to a shot of broken glass, to Crow falling back towards the window then of Crow falling out of the window but from what it looks like outside the building. The music also crescendos and falls to heighten this moment of rapid movement and panic. As Crow falls down, we see Anderton, still with his shooting arm up in shock. 

The fact that Crow died even though Anderton made the decision not to kill him is reminiscent of the Final Destination film series. The idea of death having a set design and that all people have a time where death will take them permeates. While our choices can prolong death, it is an inevitable force guided by fate. While murders were stopped using the pre-crime system, the deaths were merely delayed. Considering this scene in relation to Final Destination makes you wonder whether death simply came back for these people in other ways that were perhaps even worse than murder.

Cinema as Brain- Mind and Body in Relation to The Double Life of Veronique

Analysing The Double Life of Veronique (1991) the French-Polish-Norwegian drama film directed by Kryzysztof Kieslowski in relation to the seventh chapter of Film Theory: An Introduction Through the Senses by Thomas Elsaesser and Malte Hagener.

According to Thomas Elsaesser and Malte Hagener in their book, Film Theory: An Introduction Through the Senses, experiencing film does not only involve one or two but all five senses in the human body. While all work together to create the full experience, each has their own set of unique effects and consequences. Using the seventh chapter of this text, Chapter 7: Cinema as Brain- Mind and Body, The Double Life of Veronique (1991) the French-Polish-Norwegian drama film directed by Kryzysztof Kieslowski will be discussed in relation to the main ideas explored in this chapter. 

While some may claim that a movie is only a movie, the way in which they can influence and alter the world views and feelings of the spectators is proof of its power well beyond the frame. According to Elsaesser and Hagener, “Underlying this view of cinema is the idea that films are not simply exterior objects whose reception covers a limited time span and which ‘disappear,’ so to speak, after that, but rather that films, once seen, continue to live in us and can haunt and influence us in much the same manner as past memories or actual experiences.” (T, Elsaesser & M, Hagener (2015), p. 171) They describe film and a person’s experience of it as not limited to its running time or the time we commit to viewing the content. Rather, the messages communicated stay with us, and have the capability of influencing our future decisions and life choices in a quasi- religious way. The Double Life of Veronique certainly has this effect. 

The idea in the tale of the two identical women living different but in many ways similar lives, in separate geographical locations is itself rather haunting. Halloway states that “Doppelgänger is a German word many “double goer” and refers to a wraith or apparition that cast no shadows and is a replica or double of a living person. They were generally considered as omens of bad luck or even signs of impending death – a doppelgänger seen by a person's relative or friend was said to signify that illness or danger would befall that person, while seeing one's own doppelgänger was said to be an omen of death.” When considering the film’s narrative in regards to the fate of each woman, it matches up entirely with this legend. Weronika is the one who sees her double, Veronique amongst tourists on her way home to practice her sheet music. While she smiles and is undisturbed by her encounter, shortly following this moment, Weronika dies rather randomly in front of a crowd of people. In contrast, it is not Veronique but someone else who first sees an image of Weronika, from her visit to Krakow. 

While Veronique does not literally pass away within the running time of the film, it is at the moment when Alexandre Fabbri kills her in terms of her freedom and self determination as an individual. He has just bedded Veronique before he sees the picture, highlighting his sexual and bodily dominance over her. Seeing the photo however is what inspires him to take ownership of her life as this is what inspires his new puppet show story, the story of two identical women living in different places. Near the end of the film, Veronique discovers not one but two puppet dolls made in her image. While it is obviously about two women that look the same, when she asks Alexandre the reason behind needing a second, he says how they often break because he handles them a lot during performances. He claims the second one is to be a back up. The idea of the doll, a non-living and in that way, an almost immortal object having an expiration date or death is interesting and becomes a memento mori for all things and for Veronique. While she seems to be the surviving girl from the original pair, she too will die and if taken literally, at the hands of Alexandre Fabbri himself. 

The fact that the ‘deaths’ of the two main characters align so closely with such an old and infamous myth, gives it the same effect as a film ‘based on a true story’. When parts of the film match up with our prior knowledge of the world, it becomes all the more real and vivid to experience. When read in this way, the seemingly romantic mystery goes sour. Love and destiny turns to possession and inevitable death. This is even stronger because the audience literally feels this physically and psychologically. During the dream like shots in the film, such as in the love scene between Veronique and Alexandre, we feel what she feels because of what we see. When you are in love and with that special person, it can feel as if the rest of the world melts away. The film does this literally with the close up shots of touch and reaction. Everything else in the background becomes somewhat irrelevant, as it is all about the couple at this moment. This matches up with the idea expressed in Elsaesser and Hagener’s chapter that film in many ways can replicate mental processes. In this example, the scene looks how we are feeling or are made to feel. To a more extreme extent, films with such sensual and subjective cinematography, where the audience feels and thinks along with with the main character, can be stored in their brains almost as lived experiences. They become memories of things we did but never did, just as a person can feel exhilarated while watching a fast pace action movie without leaving their seat. 

Therefore, The Double Life of Veronique is an effective example of how filmic experiences deeply involve the brain of the audience member and how our minds and bodies are appealed to and manipulated throughout the running time and beyond. According to Thomas Elsaesser and Malte Hagener in their book, Film Theory: An Introduction Through the Senses, experiencing film does not only involve one or two but all five senses in the human body. This is especially evident in the case of Chapter 7: Cinema as Brain- Mind and Body, where an undeniable collection of factors and effects are broken down and discussed.

References

The Double Life of Veronique. Dir. Kryzysztof Kieslowski. Sidéral Films (France) Miramax (United States), 1991. Film

Elsaesser, T. & Hagener, M. (2015), ‘Chapter 7: Cinema as Brain- Mind and Body’, Film Theory: An Introduction Through the Senses, Routledge, New York

Flaxman, G. (2000), The Brain is the Screen: Deleuze and the Philosophy of Cinema, University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, London

Holloway, A. (2014), Doppelgangers and the Mythology of Spirit Doubles, http://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends/doppelgangers-and-mythology-spirit-doubles-001825, accessed on 9/10/17

Pizzato, M. (2006), Ghosts of Theatre and Cinema in the Brain, Palgrave Macmillan, New York, NY

Young, Skip Dine. (2012), Psychology at the Movies, John Wiley & Sons, Ltd, Chichester, UK

All Wired Up

A snapshot analysis of HBO's first season of The Wire (2002), and how it uniquely operates within the larger space of the television drama.

The first season of the HBO television series, The Wire is distinctly different from other series out at that time and before its release in 2002. Other American television shows such as Friends (1994-2004) and Seinfield (1989-1998) are comprised of many seasons containing short 20-30 minute episodes. The episodes were particularly episodic as they contained their own mini narrative that contributed to the larger story. Each episode had a clear beginning, complication and solution. In comparison, the first season of The Wire is made up of only 13 episodes but are about an hour long. Unlike Friends and Seinfield, each episode of The Wire reveals a bit more of the same long story in a slow and detailed manner. It is important to pay close attention to each episode as each contains a slab of the 13 episode long narrative. 

The Wire does this differently than how there are many chapters of a single book. The episodes seem to stop when the running time is reached rather than at particular narrative climaxes or cliffhangers. The 1978-1991 television series, Dallas did this well. Each episode lead to the next in a way that left the viewer hungry for more, enabling a 'binge-watching' cycle to ensue. Drama series, Dynasty (1981-1989) and the Dallas spinoff series, Knots Landing (1979-1993) also utilised a similar style, finishing each episode off in a way to leave everyone excited for the next instalment, and finishing each season off in a way that leaves the entire nation along with international fans of the show wondering "who shot J.R.?" The Wire in comparison is a lot slower and requires patience and commitment to get through the series. The detail can sometimes come as an information overload to the kind of viewer who watches television for the purpose of entertainment and escapism. While The Wire tells a fictional story, it constantly throws you back to reality. Its realist style and focus on serious issues effecting people in America does not allow itself to be taken lightly, and demands you to keep your brain switched on throughout the whole running time. 

The way that the characters are positioned in terms of good and bad also makes The Wire a somewhat challenging watch. Initially, knowing that drug dealing is bad, the viewer sides themselves with the police. However rather than being the hero types you hope for, the members of the law enforcement use questionable tactics to gain information and advance in their cases. They often use others to do the work for them and sit around quite a lot. The drug traders and users in comparison are humanised by show-makers and shown to be dealing with important issues. Using urban slag, that is at times polarising, the show certainly creates authentic sense of empathy and curiosity.