The Apartment

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

Here is a different Valentine’s Day story. The Apartment won Best Picture and its director and co-writer Billy Wilder received Oscars for the screenplay and directing. The story was inspired by the movie Brief Encounter, where characters meet at an apartment for their love affair. Wilder wondered about the person who lent the man and woman his place, and that is how Wilder’s film was born. One has to hold back one’s outrage, although not one’s judgment, in the current #MeToo world at the way some women are depicted in this film. But the movie does expose the demeaning way men treat women and the limited roles offered to females. It also addresses the situation of the average worker compared to the privileged lives of corporate executives. 

The first shot echoes the title since it is of the apartment exterior of C. C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon, at his jittery sad/comic best).  His nickname is Bud and he narrates over an aerial shot of New York City while providing statistics about the number of people living there. He knows the statistics because he works for a large insurance company, Consolidated Life. The name itself sounds restrictive. Insurance is sold as a tool to provide economic protection, which implies concern for people. But we discover that the corporate bosses do not exhibit that positive attribute toward others. There are over 31,000 employees at the home office. They are arranged in multiple long rows on numerous floors. Bud says he is in the Premium Accounting Division, Section W, desk number 861, which presents him as just one of the seemingly endless cogs in the vast machine. Bud continually provides numerical information, like Harold in Stranger than Fiction, another character who is more comfortable with figures than people. Bud has a huge calculator on his desk, showing the importance of numbers over people. The building operates like clockwork, staggering the time periods of each floor to accommodate the elevators carrying multiple floors of worker bees in its vast hive. 

Bud stays alone for two hours at work on his empty floor after his shift as “a way of killing time,” because he has a “little problem with his apartment.” One of the important questions that this film poses is how do we view Bud, either as a basically decent person who succumbed to pragmatism, or a conspirator in wrongful behavior? We already see that he is a loner, and his lending out of his place has already been going on for some time. He says it’s a “cozy” apartment for a bachelor, which also fortifies the isolated aspect of Bud’s life. The dingy appearance of his rental shows the film’s focus on the ordinary lives of people and contrasts with the bright expansive company building, the best that money can buy. The executive, Al Kirkeby (David Lewis), from Bud’s office, has used Bud’s place for a romantic encounter with a woman (the story here was groundbreaking in its presentation of adultery). The man tries to get the woman he is with to leave because the “schnook” who rents it will be coming home. Obviously Bud is not held in high regard despite the favor he is doing. Bud hides in the dark so as not to cause any embarrassment for Kirkeby and probably himself, stressing how he doesn’t want his association in the activity to be exposed. Kirkeby leaves with the girl (who by the way sounds like an airhead, which does not provide a positive representation of a woman in this 1960 film Although, as the story progresses, there is a feeling that women are not given the opportunity to fulfill their potential). When she wants him to get her a cab, he complains that all the “dames” live in the Bronx. She questions whether he has brought other women to the apartment. His funny comment, which he does not realize contrasts with his adulterous actions, is, “Certainly not. I’m a happily married man.” 

Bud lives alone, but ironically his place is often occupied by others, dispossessing him of his solitary solace. He is thus doubly punished, being a loner while suffering to endure the intimate encounters of others in the place where he should be enjoying companionship. Bud has to tell a neighbor he stood outside in the rain because he was waiting for a friend. This is just the first of the numerous lies that populate this story. He then has to pretend that he dropped his key when he encounters another neighbor while he is actually retrieving it from under the carpet where Kirkeby left it. His life is built on falsehoods to others and himself. In his apartment, he must clean up the mess that the couple left behind, another indication of his subordinate role, a janitor for the indiscretions of others. Kirkeby comes back to get the woman’s galoshes, and Bud politely complains how he had to wait in the rain and hadn't had dinner because the man was late in leaving (Bud heats frozen TV dinners for one, and when he takes a drink he says, “Cheers,” but he is alone so it is a toast to himself). Kirkeby reassures Bud he “put in a good word” for Bud with Sheldrake in Personnel about how they are looking for young executives. He reassures Bud that he is on his way up the ladder, but then treats him like a waiter, ordering food and drink for his next visit even though he hasn’t reimbursed Bud for the booze from before. It seems that just being a good worker isn’t enough to get ahead, so Bud has to resort to unsavory methods.

Bud must continue to hide the covert activities that occur in his place as he encounters Doctor Dreyfuss (Jack Kruschen), another neighbor, who sees him carrying out numerous empty bottles of liquor following the night’s liaison. Dreyfuss notes that he can hear the goings-on on various nights, and says that unless Bud slows down, he may have a short life. In a humorous comment, he even says Bud should donate his body to science, implying that it would be interesting to study the impact of the extreme decadent lifestyle of such a person. It’s all an illusion as Bud is viewed as a wild playboy, the opposite of what he is, which hints at the phony facade that life can become. While he eats his defrosted dinner, Bud puts on his TV, and Grand Hotel is about to play, the title of the movie contrasting with Bud’s meager dwelling, but which also hosts numerous guests. Several commercials interrupt the start of the movie, so Bud can’t even enjoy a film as the importance of business denies him pleasure in his work and leisurely life. He rejects action shows on other channels, which accentuates Bud’s dull life. Another boss, Dobisch (Ray Walston), wakes up Bud to say he has a woman to use the place. She also appears as a ditsy blonde drunk, who Dobisch likens to Marilyn Monroe (who Wilder did not enjoy working with in previous films). Dobisch threatens Bud with a poor evaluation unless he can have the apartment so Bud is tossed out into the night. Dobisch tells his female escort that it’s his mother’s apartment, another lie. (Hotel detectives at the time would keep a hotel’s good reputation intact by evicting those that booked rooms for those brief encounters, so that is why a private apartment was a desirable place for an affair).

Bud meets Kirkeby on the way to the elevator at work the next day and the man innocently asks if they are keeping Bud “busy.” Bud says, “yes indeed,” but his response is not about how the bosses are wearing him out at the office, but instead refers to his after-hours life. Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine) is the elevator operator. The only way she can “rise” at work is in the elevator. As Kirkeby exits the elevator he smacks Fran on the behind with his newspaper, an act that would be grounds for a sexual harassment violation today. Despite her lowly work position, she does not take his action lightly, and smartly says that one day she will close the elevator door on him, leaving him handless. Kirkeby complains to Bud that no man can get Fran to sexually play along, and asks what’s the matter with her. Bud respectfully says she is the best operator there and maybe she is just a decent woman. This respect for a woman’s refusal to submit to sexual pressure is met with a dismissal by Kirkeby, with him saying Bud is acting like an innocent child. Decency is considered a liability in this manipulative world.

Bud calls Dobisch because the man left the wrong key under the mat, so little does the boss care about how his actions affect a subordinate. It turns out the key he left was for the executive washroom, emphasizing the two tiers of the economic hierarchy. Dobisch says he will be sending paperwork about Bud getting a promotion to the personnel department. Bud has a cold (mirroring his decline in his immunity to immorality?) and is sleepy from the prior evening's deprivations. Bud wants to use his place for the night to recuperate. But to be able to remain in his own place he spends a great deal of time rescheduling all of the men who have reserved his place for their adulterous activity. The scene is a mockery of what is supposed to be happening, which is conducting legitimate business instead of monkey business. 

Bud gets a call from Sheldrake in Personnel and Bud’s co-worker at the next desk wonders if Bud is getting promoted even though he has been there longer than Bud. This fact points to the inequity of a system that rewards illicit favors instead of loyalty to the company. On the way up, literally and figuratively, in the elevator Fran compliments him for being a gentleman who always took his hat off in the elevator. He earlier complimented her on her shorter hairstyle which she felt it didn’t work. He asks if they could talk sometimes so she could tell him her elevator stories. Although he considers her a decent person, she says, “Just because I wear a uniform doesn’t make me a girl scout.” Her comment adds to the number of false fronts that people present which cover up their morally compromised lives. She changes the discussion, probably wary of always trying to be propositioned. She does offer Bud a flower for his lapel, showing some kindness toward him.

Jeff Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray) rhetorically asks why Bud is so “popular” with the bosses of the company’s departments. He says that he knows what goes on everywhere (he is the Director of Personnel, but despite his title, he exploits and controls the workers, another example of a false exterior). Sheldrake says that there was an employee recently who was also “popular” because he was running a gambling operation, and Sheldrake had the police vice squad shut it down. On the surface he appears to want to operate a legitimate organization. But, he knows about Bud’s apartment use and Bud doesn’t deny it. He explains that one man said he needed a place to change his clothes and Bud wasn’t aware of the man’s true intentions. Bud says the word circulated around, and others asked to use his place and he couldn’t grant one boss while denying another, which implies that it would have meant a loss of job security. Bud says there are only four men involved and swears he’ll shut down the situation, thinking that Sheldrake wants him to clean up his act. But, Sheldrake asks many questions that hint that he is interested in getting in on the action. Sheldrake receives a phone call from his wife, so we know he is also married. He says he can’t come home early because he is going to a show (a lie). He then gives the tickets to Bud as a trade to use his apartment for the evening. Earlier Sheldrake said they can’t have “four bad apples” in the company when he was trying to intimidate Bud. As Bud hands him the key to his place, he says compliantly, but tellingly, that it doesn't matter whether there are four or five apples, implying a link to the word “bad,” which now includes Sheldrake.

Bud waits for Fran at the end of the day to ask her to go to the show since Sheldrake gave him two tickets. She says that she is meeting a man who she once thought was serious about her, but feels that the relationship is over. She says she can meet him later at the theater. Bud knows everything about her, including her height, weight, Social Security number, and even that she has a small scar from an appendectomy. He looked up her information in the company records. In this context she finds it a bit flattering that he cared about her enough to find out about her. Nowadays we would consider this a creepy stalking and invasion of privacy that could lead to identity theft. How times have changed. 

For the first time we have a scene that does not include Bud. It turns out that the man Fran has been carrying on with is Sheldrake. He says he liked her hair long, which contrasts with Bud complimenting her short hairstyle, and showing his approval of her exercising her own will. They haven’t seen each other for six weeks, and he says he missed her, but doesn’t want anyone to hear her say his name (more covering up). She says they are in the same place and are hearing the same song, and she is hearing him say the same things again, which translates to her suggesting nothing has moved forward between them. She mentions there's the same “sweet and sour sauce” on the table, which may mean she is implying the tastes sum up their relationship. He tries to seduce her back (after all, he already has secured Bud’s apartment). She sadly recounts what happens historically to the “other woman” who pretends that while she is with the man, he is single, but then he looks at his watch and has to hurry back to his home, and then she eventually sees through the self-delusion and finds what she is doing is “ugly.” Fran is not portrayed as the mentally lightweight women carrying on with the other men. However, the film generally shows that women at this time don’t have many career opportunities open to them. Sheldrake tells her that he saw his lawyer about ending his marriage. She says that she never asked him to leave his wife, and he says that it wasn’t because of her. This line has the effect of not making her feel guilty. When asked, she says that she does love him, and he says the same about her. When they leave, Sheldrake’s secretary, Miss Olsen (Edie Adams), sees the two together, which we know will lead to trouble for them later. As they drive to the apartment, poor Bud, sniffling and out in the cold, as usual, in front of the theater, gives up hope waiting for Fran, and heads off dejected and still alone. 

Bud now moves up to the front of the seemingly endless rows of sardine-packed workers into his own office. The four men to whom he is lending time at his home arrive and say that they don’t like being denied access to his place lately. Obviously, Bud is giving priority to Sheldrake who has the power over job placements. Sheldrake wants a key for himself so that his secretary won’t see the two men passing it back and forth. Bud found a makeup compact in his apartment and gives it to Sheldrake to return to his girlfriend. He notes that the mirror is cracked, and Sheldrake opens it. We see his reflection in the glass, and the crack symbolizes Sheldrake’s broken morality. Sheldrake admits that the woman threw it at him. He says it’s so unreasonable that when you go out with a woman briefly that she wants a guy to leave his wife. (So we realize Sheldrake told another of the many lies in this story when he said to Fran that he saw his attorney about a divorce). He asks Bud, “Now I ask you, is that fair?” Sheldrake’s idea of fairness doesn’t even consider how unfair he is being to his wife and Fran. Bud dutifully replies, “No, sir. It’s very unfair. Especially to your wife.” His response can be taken two ways, that it would be unfair for Sheldrake to leave his wife, or its terrible the way the man is violating the loyalty to his marriage. But, it’s difficult to have unqualified sympathy for Bud at this point, despite his lack of sleep, upper respiratory illness, inconvenience, and the pressure placed upon him, because of his complicity in the unethical behavior. 

Six weeks go by and there is a carefree Christmas party on Bud’s floor. The short, festive season is a happy exterior painted over the extended sadness in the lives of the unhappy workers. Bud brings a drink to Fran as the elevator door opens. He admits that he was hurt by her not showing up at the theater, but says she did the “decent” thing since it would not be ethical to have a drink with one man and then go see another. It is ironic that morality is at issue, since he is lending out his place for secret affairs, and she is the one using it as she meets a married man there. Fran encounters Olsen, Sheldrake’s secretary. She is inebriated and lets Fran know that she had a fling with Sheldrake and he took her to the same restaurant where she saw Fran and Sheldrake. She says Sheldrake has had numerous affairs and would tell all the women about how he was getting a divorce. She notes Sheldrake is quite a salesman, the remark commenting on the deceitful nature of these businessmen who make empty promises (A musical was later made based on this film called Promises, Promises).

In his office, Bud says to Fran he is the youngest executive there, outside of the “grandson of the Chairman of the Board,” which shows beside providing a place for illicit sex, nepotism will bring you success in a company. Fran is devastated now after what Olsen said, and says she has to get back to her job, feeling that is all she has left. Bud says he has influence with Sheldrake and she doesn’t have to worry. Sheldrake sent Bud a Christmas card that shows a family picture which adds to the death of any holiday joy for Fran when she looks at it. Bud bought a hat and asks Fran how it looks on him. She hands him her compact to view himself and when he sees the broken mirror (which also reflects how his character is damaged, too) he realizes that it is Fran who has been seeing Sheldrake at his place. When he notes that the mirror is broken, she says, “I like it that way. Makes me look the way I feel.” She already has insight into her flawed character. At that moment Sheldrake calls and there is now a hard edge to Bud’s voice because he sees that he has contributed to the damage of a woman he cares about. Bud now has lost the cheerful spirit of the party and begins to walk out as a woman on a desk pretends to do a striptease, which again shows how men expect a woman's job is to sexually excite them. 

Bud goes to a bar and is miserable about learning that the woman he feels for is another of the females connected to his cheating bosses. He washes his sorrow in alcohol. An inebriated woman, Margie (Hope Holiday), another female who sounds ditzy as she talks about her husband jailed in Cuba for doping horses, asks him to buy her a drink. The music in the background is a religious holiday song, which contrasts with the sins of these two outsider characters who have no real family to be with. At Bud’s apartment the “comfort and joy” of the Christmas tree also stands in opposition to Sheldrake’s trying to sell his “good” intentions to Fran after she has shown him she knows about his many affairs. She sarcastically says that there is a lucky girl at the office who will follow her as Sheldrake’s next conquest. He spins the situation, saying a man chases other women because he isn’t happy at home. He promises that she is the one for him and has stopped “running.” But hedges his commitment by arguing he can’t bring up divorce during the holidays when the whole family is present. She bought him a record album which has music associated with the restaurant they frequent, but he can’t take it home because it would raise questions. He undermines his voiced affection for Fran by saying he didn’t know what to buy her, which demonstrates what little effort he puts into caring about her feelings. Instead he gives her a hundred dollars, and the look on Fran’s face is a bitter one since she sees he is treating her like a prostitute. He says he has to get home to “trim the tree” which just adds to how he will never leave his family, and stresses how he has a home of his own to go to. When she warns him not to kiss her lips because it will leave lipstick marks, she is being sarcastic, which he does not realize and sees it as being practical. His wishing her a “Merry Christmas” is like sticking a knife in her heart and twisting it. After he leaves she plays a song on the record player that is entitled “Jealous Lover,” which fits how she is envious of a life with a man she can’t have. As was noted in other posts on this blog, mirrors are used in films to betray other, usually darker sides of ourselves. Mirrors again are symbolic here, as Fran looks at her desperate self in one, and views a bottle of Seconal sleeping pills reflected in another. 

Meanwhile Bud and Margie are drunk and dance at the bar until closing time. She asks to whose place they should go, and he humorously says his since that’s where everybody else goes. In this case she’s the married one, whereas the men are the cheaters in the other instances, which casts Bud in the role previously assigned to the females. Bud, as an inside joke inspired by the reputation assigned to him by his neighbors, says he is a notorious lover. He probably thinks in his drunken state that he has been living a lie for so long he might as well reap the benefits of his infamy. 

At his place he finds Fran passed out on his bed. He is gruff with her because she hurt him, but does not yet realize she has attempted suicide with his pills. When he sees the empty bottle, he gets rid of Margie and calls Dr. Dreyfuss. The doctor gets her to vomit and pumps her stomach, then administers medicine. He uses smelling salts, smacks her about the face to arouse her (which is a bit disturbing despite the good intentions) and Bud brews coffee. Bud still lies as he says he had a lover’s quarrel with Fran and says her overdose was just an accident, as he most likely is attempting to lessen the chance that Dreyfuss will report the incident. He is protecting the bosses so they won’t be exposed. Fran wonders why Bud is there, not knowing it is his apartment. They keep her walking to counter the immediate effects of the pills and then she must sleep off the residual effects. It is not easy to pull off a story that has many comic elements in it and then introduces the element of suicide. Wilder and his co-writer, I. A. L. Diamond, subvert the romantic comedy genre here and make it work.

The landlady confronts Bud about the uproar of the previous night. She wonders if he disturbed the doctor, and he continues to cover up the truth, saying the doctor was not at home. Sheldrake is at his house on Christmas while not even thinking about the damage he has caused. Bud calls him. Even though he is still hiding Sheldrake’s guilt for his selfish reasons, Bud still has concern for Fran. He is worried that the doctor warned that many try to take their lives again if they fail. Sheldrake however takes no responsibility and declines wanting to see Fran or find out about the contents of the envelope which she left for him (which turns out only to contain the $100 bill he used to try and buy her continued submission). He wants Bud to handle the problem which happens to be a human being. Fran wakes up and apologizes. Out of worry, Bud removes his shaving razor blades. Fran wants to call her family so they won’t worry about her not being there for Christmas, but he is concerned about divulging her situation. He tries to calm her by lying, saying that Sheldrake was concerned about her, which Fran recognizes as untrue. She is miserable because, she says, she still loves him, even though he has treated her badly. It is difficult to move on when one’s feelings have been heavily invested and the past and the future offer no hope of anyone better to get close to.

Mrs. Dreyfuss shows up like a Jewish mother hen with chicken noodle soup telling Fran to find a good man to be with. Bud’s lack of confidence comes through when he says to Fran he’s actually flattered that the woman thinks he could possibly drive such a lovely woman as Fran to such desperate ends. She can’t eat, so Bud wants to play cards. He likes the company, revealing his lonely life because last Christmas he had an early dinner alone, went to the zoo, and helped clean up after another person’s party at Bud’s apartment. Everybody has fun at his apartment except Bud. He wants to play gin and the counting of the scores show him retreating to his safe place among the definiteness of numbers. She says that she was cursed from the beginning when it came to love. Her first kiss was in a cemetery and the guy dumped her for someone else. It was sort of like her initiation into romance was dead on arrival. She says she always gets involved with the wrong guy at the wrong place and time. She tried secretarial school, but was not able to spell. (Is it really her fault, or is it that because she has not been given the tools to rise up the ladder of success that she is relegated, because of her good looks, to being an object for sexual exploitation?) She asks if Sheldrake was upset about her and Bud lies yet again saying he was, but here Bud is trying to protect Fran’s feelings. Fran wants to believe it, saying she will write a letter to Sheldrake’s wife to explain the situation. Bud tells her it would not be a good idea because she would later hate herself for causing pain. Her disgust with her actions is obvious when she says she hates herself already. 

Kirkeby shows up with his girlfriend since it’s his designated day. Bud starts to throw him out when Kirkeby sees a woman’s dress hanging up. The boss believes Bud is just another guy on the sexual prowl. His date is outside the apartment as Dreyfuss comes home, and the doctor thinks Bud is still up to his old tricks. Everything turns out to be a deception. When Fran says nobody would care what happens to her, Bud says he would, and in her somewhat sedated state wonders why she can’t seem to “fall in love with someone nice” like him. Her statement reveals how these two yearn for a connection to someone who is intrinsically decent in a world of duplicity.

After having found out that his secretary divulged his affairs to Fran, Sheldrake fires Olsen. Without any legal or social media support against such an unjust action, a woman at that time was vulnerable to the power of the employer. Olsen does point out that he actually let her go emotionally four years prior and subjected her to seeing several “new models” pass through. Her remarks stresses that Sheldrake views women as objects to use and then discard. Being unselfish and worrying about Fran’s mental health, Bud calls Sheldrake and asks him to be nice and comfort her. Instead Sheldrake tells Fran he should be mad at her for scaring him, as he makes it about himself. He says they should pretend it didn’t happen. She counters with why not forget they ever met and that she fell in love with him as well as forgetting about her suicide attempt. Her response shows how self-serving and pitiless Sheldrake is. On her way out, Olsen eavesdrops on the phone call between Fran and Sheldrake. After seeing how his abuse of his power must be stopped, and because she no longer has anything to lose, she sets up an appointment with Sheldrake’ wife. She appropriately tells the elevator attendant that she is “going down,” suggesting she is basically taking the fall for trying to help a member of the sisterhood.

There is the smell of gas coming from Bud’s apartment as he comes back from shopping. He jumps to the conclusion, understandably, that Fran may be trying to kill herself again. She actually just didn’t know she had to light the stove to boil some water. But the scene shows Bud’s worrying about her. She also started to wash his socks, which illustrates how they could be domestic partners, because she is a housekeeper and he is a cook, when he has someone to make a meal for. She found several items that belonged to women, and he says he just couldn’t say no. She realizes he means he couldn’t refuse people like Sheldrake. She says Sheldrake is a “taker” and, “some people get took. And they know they’re getting took and there’s nothing they can do about it.” She is talking about both of them. But Bud shows some hope when he says, “I wouldn’t say that,” which means they can fight being taken advantage of. She wants to go home, but he says the doctor said that she needs forty-eight hours to get rid of the medicine in her system. She wonders how long it takes to get rid of the attachment to someone you love. Bud now brings honesty to the relationship by admitting to his own sad tale of contemplated suicide. He was in love with his best friend’s wife. He realized he couldn’t do anything about the situation, which is a morally different stand than his bosses, who have no qualms about their actions. Bud’s story ends with a darkly funny conclusion because he bought a gun, and then accidentally shot himself in the leg when being stopped by a policeman and trying to hide the weapon. It’s another example of how well the script intertwines the serious with the humorous, as his story makes Fran laugh despite the topic and her recent attempt to end herself.

Karl Matuschka (Johnny Seven), Fran’s brother-in-law, a tough-looking cab driver wearing a leather jacket, shows up at Dobisch’s office when Kirkeby is there. Since Fran hasn’t shown up for the last two days (she lives with him and her sister), he wants to know if anyone knows where she might be. The two men, a bit peeved because they haven’t had as much access to the apartment, believe Fran is shacked up with Bud, and are ready to point Karl at him. These men have no consideration or warmth for their employees, despite saying that they are all one big, happy family.

Meanwhile, Bud is being comical straining spaghetti with a tennis racket and saying he serves the meatballs with the racket. While he gets the dinner table ready he says, “It’s a wonderful thing, dinner for two.” Such simple words that convey the depth of Bud’s longing for companionship. He adds, “I used to feel like Robinson Crusoe. I mean shipwrecked among eight million people. And then one day I found a footprint in the sand, and there you were.” It’s corny, but it reminds us of the John Donne line that nobody can exist as an island. He is suggesting that he has met the person with whom he wants to share his isolated island. He says the only company for dinner before was in his pretending to eat with celebrities, which implies his mind game would lend some imaginary comfort and significance to his life. 

Karl shows up and sees Fran still in a robe and hears the end of Bud’s conversation about playing gin, and now “not taking advantage” of her like he did the day prior “in bed.” We have more deviance from the truth that lead to a comedy of errors. Karl tells Fran her sister is worried about her and tells her to get dressed and come home. Dreyfuss shows up and it comes out that Fran took an overdose of sleeping pills. Bud takes the blame, and Karl punches him. Bud is not telling the truth, but again his motive is a kind one, as he tries to divert Fran’s guilt over an attempted suicide due to involvement with a married man onto himself. He is responsible in part because he allowed Sheldrake to string Fran along, although unknowingly at first. Fran realizes what he is doing, and kisses him on the head before she leaves.

At work, Bud rehearses a speech to Sheldrake saying how he is taking Fran off his hands because Bud loves her. After enjoying the company of someone he cares about Bud can’t see himself being alone anymore. and is making enough money because of his promotion to ask Fran to marry him. His actions are naive because he hasn’t even asked her how she feels. Sheldrake however turns the tables on Bud, saying he is going to relieve Bud of worrying about Fran. He has moved out. But, it is not because of choosing Fran out of love. Olsen told his wife about Fran and she kicked Sheldrake out. Because Sheldrake can now be with Fran and she has demonstrated how much the loss of Sheldrake meant to her, Bud just says she is feeling better and went back to her family. Sheldrake shows his gratitude by making Bud the Assistant Director of Personnel, with an office next to his and the position includes all the executive perks. Bud says Fran deserves to be getting married, thinking Sheldrake will do the right thing. But Sheldrake’s response is he just wants to enjoy being a bachelor for a while, which implies he will just continue to sexually exploit Fran. 

As Bud observes his new position posted in the company lobby, he sees Fran. She says she thought Sheldrake would never leave his wife, apparently not having been told by Sheldrake that his wife gave him the boot (more deception). Bud knows the truth, but makes it appear that Fran’s love was not misplaced because he doesn’t want her to feel hopeless again, and maybe suicidal (a compassionate withholding of information). He says he wasn’t being “took” by Sheldrake but was using the man to get ahead at work, so things worked out for both of them, as he tries to hide emotional deprivation behind financial prosperity. She wants to know if he wants to walk with her to the subway, but he says he has a “heavy date.” He points to a woman near the lobby store, but it turns out she is waiting for someone else. Another lie, but not meant to harm but instead to spare himself grief by not being too close to her, and not trying to put himself between her and the person she supposedly loves. Fran said she wasn’t meeting Sheldrake and decided there wouldn’t be any contact between them until after the divorce. Her action shows discretion, which is another form of misdirection, but since she took chances with Sheldrake before, it may also point to her reluctance now that she knows more about Sheldrake’s womanizing. 

It’s New Year’s Eve, a time for a new start. Sheldrake threw out the duplicate key to Bud’s apartment when he thought he would get caught with incriminating evidence following Olsen’s disclosure. He is staying at a men’s club, so he wants to take Fran to Bud’s apartment to celebrate the evening. Sheldrake is still trying to hide his activities, which means he isn’t serious about committing to Fran. Bud flatly states that Sheldrake won’t be taking anyone to his place, especially not Fran. At this point he can’t tolerate the thought of the sleazy Sheldrake using his place to be intimate with the woman he fell in love with. Sheldrake threatens him with how quickly Bud can wind up on the street. Bud gives him a key, but it is the one to the executive washroom, noting he was “all washed up” there. Bud says he decided to be what Dr. Dreyfuss told him he should be, a “mensch,” a “human being.” His quitting shows he is no longer compromising his ethical, humane side to get ahead, and is finally able to say “no” to unscrupulous requests. 

The next scene has Bud packing up and getting ready to move out of the apartment. He picks up the gun he mentioned earlier, and puts it in a box, and one wonders if he will be thinking of doing himself in again over losing someone he loves. Dreyfuss comes by for ice for his New Year’s Eve party, and Bud offers him a bottle of champagne which the doctor refuses. Bud says he has to give up the apartment. This act reflects that for Bud the apartment is a reminder of a sordid, ethically compromised past which he was a part of and from which he wants to distance himself. Dreyfuss says Bud doesn’t owe him anything for treating Fran because he did it as a neighbor. The doctor’s action stands in contrast to the self-serving bosses at the company. Bud picks up the tennis racket which still has a string of spaghetti on it. He twirls it around his finger, a sort of culinary engagement ring, which implies that he can’t free himself from his feelings for Fran.

Fran and Sheldrake are at a New Year's Eve celebration (which contrasts with the moods of the main characters) and he says he reserved a room in Atlantic City because there was none available in town. He blames the long ride on Bud who refused to give him the apartment, especially if he was bringing Fran, which confuses him, not knowing of Bud’s feelings for her. He tells her Bud quit. She smiles and repeats a line that Bud said which was, “that’s the way it crumbles, cookiewise.” He doesn’t understand, but she states she would spell it out for him, “only I can’t spell,” a witty line for someone who has been wrongfully dismissed as not being smart. As the new year is sung in, Sheldrake realizes that Fran has left. She is starting the new year off by breaking away from the repetitive pain that tortured her.

As what happens at the end of a romantic movie, one of the lovers must run to find the other. Fran is heading up the stairs to Bud’s apartment when she hears a loud pop. She looks worried, obviously thinking about Bud shooting himself. She bangs on his door, but he has that bottle of champagne that is now open, so we know it was the sound of the cork we have heard. She sees the boxes and asks where he is going. He says someplace else because now he’s on his own. She tells him so is she, which lets him know that she is no longer with Sheldrake. He pours her a glass of champagne, which implies a way to celebrate their independence from Sheldrake and his kind, and their togetherness. She gets a pack of cards so they can finish that game of gin they started. He tells her he loves and adores her. She smiles and with no sentimentality tells him to “shut up and deal,” which is exactly what the two of them have decided to do, which is to make the best with the cards dealt them.

Next is the film noir movie Out of the Past.

Oscar Picks and Preferences 2020

Again, I, like many others, will be watching the Oscar ceremony and enduring the seemingly unending doling out of awards. But, if you are a film fan, it is still exciting to see if your predictions turn out to be correct, and frustrating to have your favorites lose. For what it’s worth, here are my picks and preferences for the 2020 Academy Awards:

Best Motion Picture:

There are a couple of films that I would have included under this category that were not nominated. Harriet is not only about the heroic Underground Railroad heroine, but it also shows the psychology of different types of people who lived during that time, including African Americans who were traitors to their own race. Judy smartly found its dramatic focus on the concerts just prior to Judy Garland’s death, while providing enough flashbacks to indict the Hollywood studio system that drove her on the defaced yellow brick road to self-destruction. 

I believe those two films are more successful works than Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood, which I stated before, is one of Quentin Tarentino’s lesser projects because of its lack of wit.  JoJo Rabbit contains some very funny, dark satirical aspects, but it is an uneven movie, mixing in dramatically sad elements that don’t mesh well. As noted last week, Little Women is effective in bringing the famous story up to date in stressing the importance of women to have choices in their lives. It also develops the relationships between the supporting characters. But, the use of shifting time periods interrupts the dramatic flow of the character arcs in a story told many times and which the audience already knows the fate of the individuals. The only surprise is the ending for Jo, which is successfully enigmatic. Ford v Ferrari is a strong story that is similar in its theme to Apollo 13 about the nostalgia for a can-do America, while also showing how corporate greed tries to stunt individual achievement. Marriage Story is a powerful, well-written film that ironically shows how divorce has become part of so many marriage stories. The Irishman successfully deglamorizes the gangster life by presenting pathetic gangsters who live unhappy, threatened lives, and has a scope that shows corruption in unions and politics. Joker, discussed last week, is a daring movie that is apocalyptic in scope that shows how the abuse of the masses will not end well for the elite. The same theme exists in what I think was the best picture of the year, Parasite (also addressed last week). This film is more personal in exploring the effect of the marginalization of social classes, and it shows how the domino effect of the subordination of people causes violence between all levels of society. The movie I believe will win the Oscar is 1917. It is a very impressive piece of moviemaking. The extended tracking shots in the trenches during WWI are a homage to Stanley Kubrick’s Paths of Glory, which, like 1917 is an anti-war tale about the toll exacted on individual men. Using the seemingly one-shot movie makes the audience feel as if it is in the middle of the story with the main characters. The film is ironic by depicting a mission to save lives in the middle of a war whose purpose is to eliminate soldiers to the frightening point where victory is only won when there is a “last man standing.” The movie has won all the preliminary citations, including the Producers Guild award.

Pick: 1917

Preference: Parasite (by a nose over 1917 and Joker)

Best Supporting Actress:

Scarlett Johansson adds style and whimsy along with pathos to her brief performance in JoJo Rabbit. Florence Pugh brought us a stronger and wiser Amy in Little Women. But they and Margot Robbie for Bombshell and Kathy Bates for Richard Jewell will not be able to stop Laura Dern this year for her both empathetic and also a bit scary divorce lawyer in Marriage Story. She has won all of the preliminary awards, including the Golden Globe and the Screen Actors Guild awards, and deservedly so.

Pick: Laura Dern, Marriage Story

Preference: Laura Dern, Marriage Story

Best Supporting Actor:

Al Pacino was powerful as Jimmy Hoffa in The Irishman, but his over-the-top performance is what we have seen in many of his roles over the years, so it was not a stretch for him as an actor. Joe Pesci, however, played what was for him a restrained performance that still showed menace behind the mild facade. Anthony Hopkins was effective as the abdicating Pope Benedict who was out of touch with modern times in The Two Popes. Brad Pitt’s performance in Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood is not up to his level of work in such films as Twelve Monkeys, Legends of the Fall, and Fight Club (although I did enjoy his anonymous stuntman kicking the butt of the famous Bruce Lee). But he has received all of the major awards so far for this film, and he will take home the Oscar. But, it is Tom Hanks in A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood who stands out in this category. He not only gets the movements and speech patterns of Fred Rogers down in this performance, but somehow shows the intelligence behind the contemplative appearance of the man, who acts as a kind of anger management therapist in this movie. 

Pick: Brad Pitt, Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood

Preference: Tom Hanks, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Best Actress:

Charlize Theron in Bombshell does an excellent job of imitating journalist Megyn Kelly. But it also seems a bit stilted, not getting us to feel for the woman behind the cause. Also, the movie, like Little Women, is more of an ensemble piece. Although Saoirse Ronan gives us a dynamic Jo, she does not dominate in her portrayal of the most rebellious sister in the March family. Scarlett Johansson presents an unglamorous, authentic performance as the anguished wife and mother in Marriage Story. Cynthia Erivo shows us Harriet Tubman as a force of nature in Harriet (if you haven’t seen her in the HBO series The Outsider, you should). But, it is Renee Zellweger’s year. She must carry the entire film as Judy Garland in Judy, and she delivers the performer’s suffering and humor along with the voice and movements of the star. She has also won the preliminary awards, and she will take home the Oscar.

Pick: Renee Zellweger, Judy

Preference: Renee Zellweger, Judy

Best Actor:

Leonardo DiCaprio has turned in some excellent performances during his career. I don’t think his work in Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood is up to his usual standards. He seems almost cartoonish as the fading movie star, although that could be blamed on the script. Antonio Banderas in Pain and Glory is very moving as a gay man in Catholic Spain who suffers from physical and psychological pain and uses his tribulations to fuel his filmmaking (the movie has a wonderful twist at the end). Jonathan Pryce is convincing as the modern Pope Francis in The Two Popes, a man who also has sins to confess about his compliance with the authoritarian government while in Argentina. Adam Driver has become one of my favorite actors, bringing range and intensity to his roles. He is very convincing as the husband who is anchored to his work on plays in New York, and is torn between his single-mindedness and his family in Marriage Story. But it is Joaquin Phoenix in Joker who dominates in this category. He seamlessly combines sympathy with revulsion just as he appears to be laughing and crying at the same time. He has won the Golden Globe, Actors Guild, and BAFTA awards, and he will win the Oscar.

Pick: Joaquin Phoenix, Joker

Preference: Joaquin Phoenix, Joker

Best Director:

This is a tough one in terms of who I believe deserves to win, except I would eliminate Tarantino, who is a very talented filmmaker, but I was not impressed with Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood. Either Greta Gerwig for Little Women or James Mangold for Ford v Ferrari should have taken his place. Martin Scorsese uses advanced technology in The Irishman to tell his story over time. But despite its length, there is an immediacy to the scenes between the characters. There are no drawn-out violent episodes. People are quickly disposable in the broken world depicted. They become visual casualties in the obituary stills noting their deaths. Todd Philips gives us a chilling nightmarish vision in what is really a horror film in Joker. Bong Joon Ho in Parasite presents his own nightmare of a film with as much polish as any Hollywood movie. But, Sam Mendes has given us a visually stunning movie in 1917, whose technical virtuosity is used to bring a world war down to the personal level. He has won the Golden Globe and the Directors Guild awards, and he will be the Academy’s choice.

Pick: Sam Mendes, 1917

Preference: Sam Mendes, 1917 (just edging out Bong Joon Ho and Todd Philips).

Best Cinematographer:

I’ll make this short. The Irishman excels mostly in the special effects category, so Roger Deakins wins easily for his amazing tracking work in 1917.

Pick: Roger Deakins, 1917

Preference: Roger Deakins, 1917 

Best Achievement in Editing:

JoJo Rabbit and Parasite won the “Eddie” awards for editing comedy and dramatic films. I’m going rogue on this one and preferred Ford v Ferrari with its dazzling race sequences.

Pick: Yang Jinmo, Parasite

Preference: Michael McCusker and Andrew Buckland, Ford v Ferrari

Best Original Screenplay:

I hope Quentin Tarantino does not win his third screenplay Oscar for Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood.  The other ones he won were deserving, but not here. Rian Johnson’s Knives Out, is a witty, fun take on an Agatha Christie type mystery, with some satire on relatives inheriting their wealth and attitudes towards immigrants. Sam Mendes and Krysty Wilson-Cairns provide some nice irony in 1917, but the film is mostly a visual achievement. Noah Baumbach’s script in Marriage Story deftly combines satiric humor and heart-wrenching sadness. However, Bong Joon Ho and Han Jin Won in Parasite have crafted a dramatically focused, well-structured story that also deftly handles a mixture of humor and tragedy, but also in its details cautions us about a world-wide problem. Their script won the Writers Guild award.

Pick: Parasite, Bong Joon Ho and Han Jin Won

Preference: Parasite, Bong Joon Ho and Han Jin Won

Best Adapted Screenplay:

As I’ve already noted, I don’t think the screenplay of Little Women was entirely successful because of the interrupted timeline and JoJo Rabbit was inconsistent in its narrative tone. The Two Popes did a good job of using dialogue to try and reveal what made its real-life characters tick. The Irishman allowed the audience to use Robert De Niro’s primarily unemotional Frank Sheeran as an unfiltered tool to view the world he descended into and which eventually literally and figuratively crippled him. JoJo Rabbit received the Writers Guild award, and will probably win, but my selection is Joker for creating a backstory for the villain that turned the Batman tale on its head, inverting the roles of hero and villain.

Pick: JoJo Rabbit, Taika Waititi

Preference:  Joker, Todd Phillips and Scott Silver

The next film to be analyzed is The Apartment.

2019 Controversial films

SPOILER ALERT! The plots will be discussed.

A couple of 2019 films, Joker and Parasite, have drawn criticism because of their supposed endorsement of class violence, and one, Little Women, has brought outrage from literary purists who think that the movie is overly feminist and is not true to the spirit of the book on which it was based. The purpose here is not to do an analysis of each scene in these movies, but instead to address the above criticisms leveled at these motion pictures.

There have been protests in several countries, with people using clown make-up, to protest corruption and other grievances in their countries following the release of Joker. Since the character of the Joker is a psychopathic killer, one can understand why there is fearful concern for people using his character as a force for social change. But, if the film is accurately assessed, it is not promoting violence, but instead is a cautionary tale about how the marginalization and abuse of struggling individuals can lead to violent uprisings.

Joker turns the Batman story on its head by providing a backstory for its main character that shows him and others as victims of the selfishness of the rich and powerful. It takes place in 1981 in Gotham City (the comic book story equivalent of New York City), but the setting and location is relevant to the present. The world is upside down in terms of what most would want for its citizens. There is garbage everywhere, since the sanitation workers are on strike for better benefits. Shops are closing. Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) ironically has a job advertising a going-out-of-business sale that will cause the elimination of jobs. He holds the sign upside down to imply the inverse society that he inhabits. Arthur has a condition, for which he hands out cards, which makes him laugh at what would normally be reasons for sadness, which again shows that things are the opposite of what they should be. His social worker says he can’t see Arthur anymore because funding was cut, commenting, “They don’t give a shit about people like you, Arthur. And they really don’t give a shit about people like me, either.” Arthur comments on the decline of the human condition when he says, “Is it just me, or is it getting crazier out there?” And, his increasing insanity mirrors what is happening everywhere.

Arthur, despite his wasting away, physically and mentally, because of his plight (Phoenix lost a great deal of weight for the role), just wants to make people laugh. Despite the sadness that permeates his life, Arthur said his mother told him “to smile and put on a happy face.” She said, “I was put here to spread joy and laughter.” As it turns out, he becomes an instrument for just the opposite of what his now severely ill mother, Penny (Frances Conroy), hoped for, (her name shows how little value someone like billionaire Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen) assigns to her). But, she is complicit in her son’s metamorphosis. She lied to Arthur by not divulging that Thomas, for whom she worked and loved, is really Arthur’s father. Thomas cast her aside, making her signing papers to conceal his affair. So, the young Bruce Wayne, who becomes Batman, is really Arthur’s half-brother.  Here we have the suggestion that the two are mirror images of each other, and that their roles could have been reversed if conditions were different. In fact, Thomas, on television, shows his anger about how someone disguised as a clown who killed three of his executives on a train is a “coward” who “hides behind a mask.” Thomas says that the violence was due to someone who was “envious of those more fortunate.” (The film probably would have been more convincing in its argument if it showed the poor treatment of persons of color). In fact, Thomas’s executives were abusing a woman and beating Arthur on the train. Arthur is instead portrayed in the press as a vigilante, so Thomas’s rage can be directed at what his son will become, a person wearing a mask working outside the law. 

One of Penny’s boyfriends inflicted a head injury on the young Arthur, which may account in part for his mental illness. Street thugs badly beat him when he is working at the closing store. Before he shoots the executives with a gun given to him for protection, the men also beat him. At first he shoots in self-defense, but when he hunts one of the attackers and guns him down, Arthur crosses over to becoming a murderer. He dances a death ballet in the men’s room afterwards, celebrating his deadly empowerment. Arthur is invited to be on a show hosted by Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro), who just has him as a guest to humiliate his lack of comic talent. Arthur admits to killing the three executives, saying, “I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It’s enough to make anyone crazy.” There is the film’s warning. Push people enough, and they lose their psychological footing, and become unbalanced. 

When Arthur confronts Thomas he says all he wanted was “a little bit of warmth. Maybe a hug,” and at least some “decency.” Without that in his life, Arthur identifies with all the other deprived individuals and becomes their symbol of anger. On the Murray Franklin show, Arthur turns comedy into tragedy, as happened in his life. He says, “What do you get … when you cross … a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash? … I’ll tell you what you get! You get what you fuckin’ deserve!” Arthur, having been introduced as “Joker” then shoots Murray in the head. In and of itself, it is a very disturbing scene, but it is consistent with how Arthur’s pathology was nurtured. Outside in the streets there is rioting by people wearing clown masks. Arthur rides in a police car after being apprehended for his murder on television. But, his “followers” ram the car. In a significant image, people in clown masks pull Joker out of the car window. It appears as if they are delivering a baby. Joker is removed from a vehicle of the law into a world of anarchy, and it’s as if the Antichrist is being born. One of Joker's followers kills Bruce Wayne’s parents as the boy watches, which is the galvanizing moment that turns him eventually into Batman, who, let’s face it, doesn’t care about how villains become who they are. Joker then stands above his demonic flock and uses blood to paint a smile on his face to add another image of an upended world.

The message is what goes around comes around, on steroids. The movie is sending out a warning. There is a difference between advocating violence and exposing the elements that lead to it to prevent its inevitability.

Parasite has a different story and takes place at a different time (the present) and place (South Korea) than Joker, but its theme is the same. Perhaps because it is a foreign film for American audiences, it has not experienced the negativity that greeted Joker, which has more violence throughout the film. Also, Parasite is more intimate, with its plot focusing on a smaller group of people, instead of the scary apocalyptic impact of Joker.

Here the film also depicts social class struggle. Ki-woo Kim (Choi Woo-Shik) lives in a ghetto with his family in poverty. Their apartment is a basement unit. The movie uses the subterranean to emphasize how the poor must endure subhuman conditions. Conversely, the rich live literally and figuratively high above street level, stressing how difficult it is for the lower-class inhabitants to rise above their level in society. (Joker also uses a steep flight of stairs to show Arthur’s struggling in his life, and eventually his descent into madness and violence). The Kim family tries to eke out a living assembling pizza boxes, showing how the members must relegate themselves to a marginal task to help feed others. They have to endure a drunk urinating right next to their window and being fumigated by the town to kill vermin, as if they are part of the infestation (the image connects to the title of the movie). 

Ki-woo has a rich friend who visits the Kim family. He gives them a rock that is supposed to symbolize good fortune. Not exactly a generous present from a wealthy person. Instead of real help, he only supplies the hope of doing better. At first, however, the Kim family does seem to experience good luck. The friend is leaving for a while and has a student who he is in love with and wants Ki-woo to tutor because he trusts him with her. (His trust is misplaced since Ki-woo begins to romance the girl). Ki-woo does not have a college background, so he gets his sister, the crafty artist Ki-jung (Park So-dam) to create fake documents. So begins the Kim family’s infiltration into the rich Park family. The Kim family plots to get the father, Ki-taek (Song Kang-ho) to become the driver for Mr. Park (Lee Sun-kyun). Ki-jung becomes the art tutor for their son who had a traumatic event when he saw a “ghost” in the house and now paints horrific paintings. They get rid of the housekeeper, Moon-kwang (Lee Jeung-eun), by exposing her to peaches, which trigger an allergy that makes it appear as if the housekeeper is contagious. Mrs. Kim (Jang Hye-jin) takes over her job. Mrs. Kim and her daughter comment on the Parks. The daughter says, “They are rich, but still nice.” To which her mother replies, “They are nice because they are rich,” which implies the Parks can afford to be nice, while those in need must sometimes descend to unscrupulous behavior to get by. It is interesting to note that the housekeeper has been working in that residence longer than the Park family has lived there, having serviced the previous owner. This fact shows how despite her longevity of employment, her lot in life has not progressed. 

The thing is, the Kims handle the new positions very well. They are capable workers who if just given the chance can prosper. However, for them to latch onto making a good living, they get other workers fired by employing some nasty maneuvers. It is in this way that this film presents a larger view of society as a whole through this microcosm than does Joker. However, both movies suggest there is a domino effect once marginalization and cruelty occur.

The film cons the audience, too. It appears to be a funny satire through the first half of the tale, but then becomes very dark. While the Park family leaves for a trip, the previous housekeeper, Moon-kwang, shows up, interrupting a Kim family party that has them indulging themselves on the Park family’s food and drink. The Kim family discovers that Moon-kwang has been hiding her husband, Geun-sae (Park Myung-hoong) from loan sharks in a hidden basement in the house. She finds out that the Kim family members have manipulated the Parks, and she threatens to expose them unless they do her bidding. A severe rainstorm causes the Parks to cancel their trip and they call saying they are returning home. In the havoc that ensues in an attempt to evade being caught, Mrs. Kim throws Moon-kwang down the steps leading to the secret cellar. The woman is badly injured and afterwards dies while her husband is restrained, gagged and secured in the basement. Again, the inability to ascend out of misery is stressed, but here members of the lower class inflict the punishment on one of their own. 

The Kims are able to escape but their below-ground-level apartment is flooded out, and they lose all their belongings, except, ironically for the good luck rock. Ki-woo, badly shaken by what has happened, carries the rock, saying it clings to him. It becomes similar to the rock that Sisyphus must eternally push up a hill (the impossibility of rising out of one’s place in life is stressed again). The Parks throw a party for their son’s birthday. Ki-woo descends into the hidden basement and is ambushed by Moon-Kwang’s husband, Geun-sae, who slams the rock onto Ki-woo’s head. We again have the proliferation of violence, even among people of the same social class. Geun Sae is the “ghost” that the son saw previously coming up the stairs of the lower house level, a sort of person deprived of life because of his poverty. He is just as crazed as Joker, as he stabs Ki-jung, who eventually dies. Mrs. Kim is able to stab and kill Geun Sae. Earlier, Mr. Park said that the driver before Mr. Kim took the job would “cross the line,” trying to become too familiar with Mr. Park. He says the same thing about Mr. Kim’s smell, reminding him of Kim’s poor origins. Mr. Kim overheard Mr. Park tell his own wife about Mr. Kim’s smell. When Mr. Park seems like he is smelling something unpleasant, Mr. Kim snaps. He seems to realize that the real reason for the loss of his daughter and the rest of this violence starts with the rich marginalizing the poor. He stabs Mr. Park killing him. 

Mr. Kim manages to escape. He becomes a ghost of himself, replacing Geun Sae in the house’s hidden cellar (tomb?) during the time the rest of the Parks move out and before the new rich family moves in. After being in a coma, Ki-woo recovers. Mr. Kim is reduced to using Morse code through blinking lights and tells his son where he is and that he was able to bury Moon-Kwang without anyone finding out about her, since the victims of society are not noticed (just as Joker says, until they revolt). Ki-woo communicates a message to his father telling him he will become educated, get rich, and buy the house, so they can be a family again. There is a sort of blurry, highly lit shot of Mr. Kim rising to meet his wife and son. But, it is only a dream at this point, and we are left with the feeling that Ki-woo’s hope may only be wishful thinking.

The director, Joon-ho Bong summed up the theme of his movie by saying that coexistence between different parts of society has become so unbalanced that “one group is pushed into a parasitic relationship with another.” But because they are struggling to survive, is it fair to “call them parasites?” He says, “They are our neighbors, friends, and colleagues who have merely been pushed to the edge of a precipice.” This film, like Joker, is a cautionary tale about the inevitable plunge into madness and violence unless something is done to stop the free fall. 

And now for something completely different. There has been criticism by some of Greta Gerwig’s version of Little Women. If one were to restrict the shortcomings of the film as a cinematic experience divorced from other considerations, then the focus would be on plot, character, directing, editing, cinematography, etc. For instance, one could argue that there was no need for the jumping back and forth in time instead of telling the story in a linear manner. Cutting between past, present, and future periods can be useful to gain interest to wonder what led to a set of circumstances. Or, it can take different points of view from various characters experiencing the same situation. It can also be used to contrast present attitudes or behavior with past or future ones. But, this story has been filmed seven times for theatrical release and television. It is based on a multigenerational best seller. The plot is well known so the jumping back and forth does not really add much in trying to show how the characters change over time.

But, there has been a myopic view expressed by some who just focus on several of the comments and actions of Jo (Saoirse Ronan) without considering other feelings that she expresses. This exclusion of what is happening in the rest of the movie is done to argue that the story has been changed into an overly dogmatic feminist vision. But, it is called Little Women after all, not Little Woman. And, the title, of course, is ironic, since there is nothing small about the intelligence and strength of the character of these females. 

Gerwig has incorporated elements of author Louisa May Alcott’s own life into the story she tells, thus not basing the movie only on the novel. Thus, criticisms that it is not a faithful retelling of the novel fail to take this broader aspect into account. For instance, Alcott never married (just like Jane Austin, and this film has an Austin feel to it in criticizing the stress on the practicality of marriage over the human need for love). The ending of the film is enigmatic, as Alcott’s arguing with the publisher of her book about concessions to the public’s wants are replicated by showing cuts between Jo’s meeting with her publisher and her supposed running after Friedrich Bhaer (Louis Garrel) because she loves him. But Gerwig in her script noted the sequence as “possibly fiction.” Friedrich’s impact in this story is not as profound as the one in the 1994 version of the novel, since here it is sister Beth (Eliza Scanlen) who inspires Jo to continue to write, which leads to her story of the family. Maybe Jo actually wants to include Friedrich in her life, since he is shown at the end as a teacher as Jo prepares to open her school. But he is not the only element in her life, and possibly not as important as other interests, or not a factor at all, because that is her choice.

In this movie Jo says, “I don’t believe I will ever marry. I am happy as I am, and love my liberty too well to be in any hurry to give it up.” Some may argue that putting independence as the only criteria to live by does not allow for the interdependence necessary in a loving relationship. And, Jo expresses that problem herself when she says women “have minds and they have souls as well as just hearts. And they’ve got ambition and they’ve got talent as well as just beauty, and I’m so sick of people saying that love is just all a woman is fit for. I’m so sick of it! But … I am so lonely.” Those last words stress how Jo is conflicted about the emphasis on freedom over the commitment to another in a romantic relationship. 

In that same scene of dialogue between Jo and her mother, Jo is even reconsidering her refusal to marry Laurie (Timothee Chalamet), so lonely is she. But Marmee (Laura Dern) is the one who asks if she truly loves him. Jo says, “I want to be loved,” to which Marmee says, “That is not the same as loving.” The selfish need to be loved is emotional greediness, and in that way is similar to marrying for one’s own monetary practicality. Marmee here expresses the generous relinquishment of total independence for the good of more than the individual. To argue that Gerwig’s film is only about exalting personal individual freedom over everything else is an unjust attack on the film.

It is important to note that Meg (Emma Watson) freely chooses a domestic life as her means of fulfillment. Jo seems to want to force her version on her sister of how a woman should live when she says, “you should be an actress and have a life on the stage.” But Meg knows what she wants and says, “I want to get married … I want a family and a home.” Amy (Florence Pugh) correctly expresses the reality of marriage of the time when she says to Laurie, “as a woman I have no way to make money, not enough to earn a living and support my family. Even if I had my own money, which I don’t, it would belong to my husband the minute we were married.” Yet, she foregoes marrying a person richer than Laurie, choosing to wed him for love instead. And, she continues what she also loves, as an individual, which is to paint. The film may be feminist, but it is about choice, and it does suggest that women should choose what and whom they love, not just espouse freedom as part of some agenda. 

People tend to be loyal to the books they love, and it is understandable that when a filmmaker changes the story, it can anger the readers. For example, Bernard Malamud’s novel, The Natural, ends with Roy Hobbs being a failure. The movie version shows him triumphant. There are many instances where the film will not carry the same title as the book so as to distance it from the source material, signifying that it will not be a faithful rendering. Perhaps the best, although not easy, approach is to judge the book and the movie objectively, and decide if each works on its own based on the artistic merits of the separate mediums.

Next, Oscar picks and preferences.