Living (2022)

PG-13 for mild stuff.  This is one of those movies that almost teeters on PG.  At one point, the protagonist, in a moment of drunkenness, goes to a strip show.  Nothing is seen and it is intentionally tame. But it still exists as part of the movie.  Also, you  know, the fact that he is drunk.  There's also an element to the movie that implies that the protagonist is having an affair when he actually isn't.  Still, PG-13.

DIRECTOR:  Oliver Hermanus

My brain was itching the entire time watching this.  I knew nothing about the movie going in except for the fact that Bill Nighy was in this movie playing a very Bill Nighy part.  The promotional image was perhaps the most vanilla thing I had ever seen, with Bill Nighy standing around in a bowler hat looking mildly annoyed.  Then the movie started and I see Akira Kurosawa's name on the movie because of a foundation started after his death.  Then I see Japanese names all over the introduction of this movie and then color-me-intrigued.  It didn't hurt that we had this lovely found-footage technicolor throwback for the opening credits, which sold me originally.

I really wanted to have watched Ikiru before writing this blog.  I have seen a lot of Akira Kurosawa movies.  I love Akira Kurosawa.  There was a time in my life where I made it a conscious effort to watch as many Kurosawa movies as possible.  And then one day, I just stopped.  It wasn't that I had moved on from him.  It's not that I saw a movie of his that I didn't like. It's just that life got away from me.  In the name of variety and making Kurosawa special, I missed seeing Ikiru.  My itchy brain?  It didn't get satisfactorily scratched until the conclusion of the film where I paused it and exclaimed "This is Ikiru!"  For those who don't know what Ikiru is, the cover has a picture of a man in a hat sitting on a swing.  Ikiru means" To Live" in Japanese and now I hate myself for not making that connection. But let's be honest, that poster didn't do a lot to help me get to that point.  I don't know if it was simply to keep the ending a secret, despite the fact that there is absolutely nothing secretive about the ending.  But I did put Ikiru on my To-Watch list.  Honestly, if it hadn't been for the Academy Awards being on Sunday, I would have absolutely added another movie to write about.  Despite the fact that I still have to catch up on another five blog entry from the point I'm at right now.

I mean, I'm a sucker for this exact subgenre.  I'm talking "A Christmas Carol."  I just wrote about The Whale mere minutes ago, stressing that I love hopeful movies when they are about change.  I think that, as a culture --be it American culture or human culture --we do not understand hope.  Hope is often simply something we have that says "Everything will turn out all right."  I think I had that feeling for a good chunk of the time leading up to this point.  I keep going political and I'm okay with that, despite the fact that it probably annoys the Dickens out of people (Hey, I just mentioned "A Christmas Carol"!).  But post-Donald Trump, I have very little hope for humanity.  The world, in my small world, is a terrible place full of terrible people.  Part of me thinks that these people think that they are doing the right thing and that oddly brings me a little solace. But I also very much believe that humanity is colored with people who revel in their own misery and know that they're being the worst.  I suppose the director of EO would agree with me as well.

But stuff like Living might be what we need in a post-Kurosawa world.  The thing that I loved about Kurosawa is that there was an optimism to a lot of his works.  Not all of them.  From my limited memory of The Bad Sleep Well, I don't think it's absolute.  But I like the idea that man, at his core and stripped of all pretense and responsibility, can be something wonderful. I mean, we all play that game, right? What would we do if the world was going to end?  The scenario I most go through is the 24 hour scenario where everything ends.  But I should start thinking about the six-months-to-live scenario.  (It's kind of why Ikiru or "To Live" works as a better title than Living, but whatever.)  The notion of mortality seems to be a common motif within storytelling, especially this year.  But there's a reason for that.  There has to be an element of rebirth in the notion of death.  Mr. Williams dies to his self.  His self is one that is motivated by being the most British man that ever existed.  There's a reason why Bill Nighy is playing this role.  He's really good at playing proper British.  (Don't drop the t.  That's the wrong kind of British from what I'm talking about.) 

But the values of being a British gentleman is both a criticism on the British and on humanity at the same time.  (This is where I would be citing Ikiru left-and-right, assuming I had seen it and it went down the way I thought it would.) Everything about Mr. Williams is seen as morally good.  He's stodgy.  He's earned the nickname "Mr. Zombie" and there's a weird pride in that.  The idea of not being infused with passion is something that is applauded in this culture.  Heck, I find myself typing the phrase "Late-stage capitalism" a lot, despite the fact that I've only derived the meaning from context clues and anecdotes.  But that's what we have bred ourselves to be.  But it's knowing that money doesn't matter anymore that we can be our best selves.  I almost weep for the notion that the only way that we stop thinking about money is the idea of death on the horizon and the need to buy things kind of disappears.  But I also want to live in a world where we use the last moments of our lives to make something better for someone.  Again, this makes an excellent double-feature with The Whale, despite having drastically different tones.

I keep coming back to that itchy brain.  I gotta get an MRI or something, for curiosity's sake alone.  Part of that itchy brain is screaming that people aren't Mr. Williams.  Maybe they were at one point. I  see people as snivelling and whining about a six-month prognosis.  But isn't that why we have movies and stories?  I'd like to think that a movie like Living is molding me into becoming something better.  I also love that this blog is forcing me to take the jump.  Here I am, arguing whether or not, faced with death --that we become better people.  But the point of the movie is that Mr. Williams, while an inspiration for humanity, is a cautionary tale.  He's only happy when he's stripped the role of capitalist off and sees the fact that he can do little things for people to make them happier.  I mean, the scope of this movie is small.  It's so small that the movie changes format in Act II and tells the rest of the story through anecdotal tales (I hate that I accentally referred to "anecdotes" twice in the same analysis in two different ways.  It makes me feel like a one-trick pony.) 

Williams comes across like a saint because he built a park.  That's it.  Honestly, it was his job to build the park.  There's a really dry bit of ironic humor to the whole movie, knowing that Williams was always supposed to build that park.  Everyone passes these forms and files to different departments who, by cultural norms, either pass that form on or bury it until it is forgotten.  Yet, the value of Williams just using capitalism as an opportunity, that has to make people question the way capitalism is today.  There's nothing really communist about the whole thing.  It's just the knowledge that capitalism could be used for good, despite the fact that it isn't.  Williams is getting paid for a very specific gig.  He's there to ensure that the city is providing the proper services to the city in a timely fashion.  Now, because time is a form of economy, everyone in this building has commodified their time and thus, the output becomes about looking busy instead of actually being busy.  But the real purpose behind what capitalism should be is an equal exchange.  Golly, I'm sounding more and more communist all the time.  Williams realizes that these women are investing in a park.  They have put the due diligence in and are getting nothing in return.  It's so small.  It's so small, but it matters so much to them. 

The thing is (THE THING IS!) that the decision by Williams to put in the park ripples.  So many people are moved and inspired. There's one line that talks about the fact that one day, the park will degrade.  It will fall apart because entropy exists.  But it doesn't matter.  For a moment in time --for a handful of moments in time --people are genuinely happy, none moreso than Williams.  All of this seems pie in the sky, but the story doesn't give humanity the complete benefit of the doubt.  I love that everyone on the train makes the commitment to make change like Mr. Williams.  Yet, a few months pass and the new head of the department buries a reasonable request that would take a bit of work.  I know.  I'm stretching because I'm so embittered by the role that money has over people.  But money continually shackles us.  The notion that efficiency is the most important thing over actually prioritizing effort is something that is always going to dictate what we do in life.  But still, I love that Living points out the potential of humanity.  These are the movies I love.  There's a reason that I get so moved by It's a Wonderful Life.  I'm always mindblown that those people who are aggressively pro-capitalism are people who would invest in movies like It's a Wonderful Life, "A Christmas Carol", and Living.  These are stories that scream, "Give the underdog a chance."  "Fight for the little man!"  "Abandon societal conventions and do what's right!"

Yet, we don't listen.  We're Mr. Williams's replacement.  We talk a good game, but the applicaton of Williams's philosophy continues the machine to keep churning.  I love how this movie surprised me.  I can't wait to watch Ikiru.  God bless whosever idea it was to remake this for 2022.  It's a movie that I desperately needed.