Serenity
Last night Scott and I caught a sneak preview of Serenity held especially for bloggers. It raises an interesting question: Would I sell my journalistic integrity for a couple of free movie tickets?
And the answer is simple: For a movie this good, you bet I would.
Serenity is not going to please the critics, I can say that much. On the way home I couldn’t help but overhear the conversations of a couple of others who were also at the sneak preview. And they were disgusted.
“I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be serious or funny, funny or serious,” said one critic.
“I kept being surprised; I didn’t know what was going on,” said another.
Now it strikes me as odd, to say the least, that mixing the serious and the comic should be so forbidden (um… Chaucer? Shakespeare? Tarantino?) But there you have it.
And being surprised? Yeah, you’re going to be surprised, even if you did watch the unjustly cancelled series Firefly on which the film is based. In Serenity, we learn a great deal more about the Firefly universe. Some big secrets are finally revealed--and we discover that some other secrets just aren’t ever going to come out.
I’m honestly not sure how well all of this will play to those who haven’t seen Firefly, but I’m hoping for the best. Director Joss Whedon deserves it for having created one of the most evocative fantasy universes in modern popular culture–and for populating it with characters that you would actually want to know, characters you can even imagine knowing without too much difficulty. They’re vivid in a way that few film or TV characters ever are these days. They surprise you; they keep you off guard.
Indeed, being caught off guard is the very essence of Serenity, notably in the way that Whedon’s future world mixes up the genres. It’s a cowboy-space opera-orientalist-monster movie set inside a dystopian political fable. Somehow it all works, just like the rickety ship that gives the film its title–and just like Whedon’s trademark computer graphics sequences that simulate the zooming uneasiness of an earlier era of action movies. With every artistic gesture, Whedon repeats that the future is fundamentally unsteady.
But what’s it like, really? Imagine that the funny bits of Star Wars: Episode I had actually been funny, instead of all flopping about and making you wince. Imagine that all the action was still there, that the special effects were every bit as George-Lucas marvelous, and that the dialogue was about ten thousand times better. Now picture that the one great moment of sentiment in the entire picture gets stomped flat by its funniest laugh line.
Oh yes, and picture that the Empire isn’t Darth-Vader horrible. It’s not all tentacles and cruelty; instead it’s shiny and happy in a Brave-New-World sort of way. The good guys are still out there, but they’ve mostly lost, and you have to wonder at times why they keep on trying.
And yet despite all the action, and despite all the creativity that went into the backstory, the whole film centers on one simple choice, on one question of right and wrong. Don’t let the flashy set pieces distract you; beneath the surface, Serenity has one of the most tightly constructed themes of any film, ever: Everything within it, every major action of every character, centers on how the individual should live in a world that is neither as virtuous nor as free as it ought to be. In the end, our characters risk everything to do what’s right. Despite the multicultural trappings--in the future we all swear in Chinese--in the final scenes, the main characters all emerge as heroes in the grand old sense of the word.
This brings me to one other aspect of the film that pleasantly astonished me: It is, without any question in my mind, the most pro-individualist, pro-liberty film since The Shawshank Redemption. Forget Batman Begins; for the classical liberal, this will be the film to see. All the same people who hated The Shawshank Redemption are going to hate Serenity--and those who loved Shawshank are going to have the ride of their lives. Let the others sneer about Nietzscheanism or glorifying the vigilante; I am quite sure that they will. But, like a conversation overheard after the film is over, it’s not going to matter a bit.