Welcome to Stuart Fernie’s Blog
Penny Forum
Reflections on a variety of films and topics - Seven Samurai, It's a Wonderful Life, Don Quixote, We're no angels, War for the planet of the apes, Dunkirk, The African Queen, Babette's Feast, Dances with Wolves, The Prisoner (1967), Inherit the wind, humour in drama, nature of regret, the influence of multimedia, memoirs of a teacher of French.
Wednesday, 16 July 2025
Introduction
Characters and themes in “Quai des Orfèvres” (1947)
Reflections on “Quai des Orfèvres” (1947)
directed and written by H.G. Clouzot
starring Louis Jouvet, Suzy Delair, Bernard Blier and Simone Renant.
Ostensibly an investigation into a murder in post-war Paris, “Quai des Orfèvres” is rather an investigation into human nature, character, motivation, responsibility and guilt (or lack of it), morality (or lack of it), justice (or lack of it), ambition, love and survival.
While the immediate context is post-war Paris and a murder in a fairly seedy and run-down area littered with entertainers trying to make a living and underworld figures also trying to survive, the broader thematic context is, in fact, far more telling.
“Film noir” is a term often used to define detective thrillers which challenge or flaunt the traditional view of morality and right and wrong. However, this film is part of a much broader challenge to the traditional view of the fabric of society – existentialism, and Clouzot’s film certainly contains many observations on relationships, human nature and responsibility which entitle it to be considered an existential work.
We are not dealing with high-minded social values in this film – the police are less concerned with justice, than with simply solving another case. There is little or no regret or outrage over the murder of Brignon – he is considered a dirty old man by both the public and the police investigating his death, who may even have deserved his premature end. Characters do what they can to survive and remain fairly detached from the murder and the subsequent investigation, feeling little remorse or involvement.
Jenny Lamour is an ambitious but small-time singer and entertainer who is clearly willing to use her feminine charms to flirt and manipulate her way to success. She is knowing and uses flattery to play on men’s weaknesses, but she discovers she cannot cross a line. She treats life and her career rather like a game or a performance, willing to use a variety of tactics to succeed, but is unwilling (in the end) to do any real harm to achieve success.
Jenny’s husband Maurice is immensely jealous and disapproving of Jenny’s game – he is a straightforward and uncomplicated fellow who sees (along with others) potential risks and dangers that Jenny fails to recognise as she does not take the “game” seriously enough.
Dora Monier is a professional photographer who is a good friend of Maurice, but who clearly has romantic feelings toward Jenny.
Dora does occasional work for Brignon, a dubious character who has many suspicious business interests and who has a liking for semi pornographic photos of young ladies, photos taken by Dora. Jenny sees Brignon’s connections as a means to furthering her career, while Brignon clearly hopes to gain his own advantages from working with Jenny. Understanding Brignon’s intentions, Jenny’s husband Maurice warns Brignon off, threatening him in the process.
The scene is then set for a complex series of interrogations and revelations as Inspector Antoine investigates Brignon’s murder, and we discover the motivations, actions and their consequences of these three main suspects, as well as a car thief named Paulo.
As they are questioned, we see that none of the various characters is keen to inform on the others, accentuating the existential point that each person is entitled to their freedom to act as they wish, provided they do not infringe the freedom or rights of others. Even Brignon, though considered low and unpleasant, is entitled to act as he wishes if others are willing to go along with his schemes. To inform would be to contribute to judgement and perhaps condemnation, something all appear keen to avoid.
Having said that, the main characters’ stories are all interconnected as each character acts to help or protect another and the “truth” would only cause harm to the one they love or care for. The objective truth, and therefore responsibility or guilt, is barely recognised or even considered as each character shields another. Love and friendship, then, count for considerably more than morality and fact.
People simply try to get by or survive in this world. Many of those we encounter belong to the world of the theatre or entertainment – actors who set out to please or appeal to people in order to make a living or get by. Could this be extended to include other members of the community? Do we not all try to please others in order to get by, whether in our everyday jobs or in our lives in general?
Another group of people focused upon are numerous shady underworld characters, people who reject society’s laws and mores to live by their own wits and skills. All appear to be following their natures and do the best they can to survive, using the character and skills with which they were born.
Everyone is innocent and guilty – no-one is seen as outright evil, but each may be open to human weakness, vanity or emotion, all of which cloud reason and clarity of mind leading to muddled or confused acts which they may regret.
In any case, there is no recourse to God, morality, right and wrong or even plain truth – all are willing to twist stories to suit their own ends. Perhaps as a result of this, there appears to be a global dislike and distrust of the police who seek to identify criminals and bring them to “justice”. Not that the police themselves appear devoted to the ideal of justice – Antoine thinks little of the murder victim, but pursues the murderer anyway as he wades through complex layers of lies, deceit and protection. Although hardly fulfilled by his job (he has not been promoted because he has a big mouth and is unwilling to go along with superiors merely in order to gain advancement, thus displaying the socially unpopular trait of independent thought), Antoine persists in seeking the truth – perhaps he also is merely following his nature and is doing what he needs to do to survive.
Everyone is connected as lives and events cross one another and impact on one another, usually because of emotion and humanity.
Even the hardened detectives encourage Maurice to plead guilty and claim a crime of passion, thereby diminishing the gravity of the offence (or at least offering compassion and understanding). They all understand his motives and want to close their case – they just want to go home and get on with their lives.
All appear worn down by life, yet retain the capacity for humanity. Antoine is “humanised” and fulfilled by his son, the result of his time in the colonies, yet he appears to hold Jenny in contempt for her uncontrolled ambition and the resultant consequences for all involved. He walks past a semi naked show girl without batting an eye, but appears to hold Dora in high regard. When Maurice is at his lowest ebb and chats with a girl in the cell next door, she seems hardened, uncaring and disillusioned, yet screams when she realises he has attempted suicide. Maurice and Dora acted to protect Jenny despite being treated relatively badly by her – we are all capable of acts of humanity and kindness despite being worn down by life, but ultimately it is our humanity that motivates us, not thoughts of religion, morality or God.
In the end, we discover the truth behind the murder
but in fact we have discovered a great deal more about human nature,
relationships and motives along the way.
My thanks for taking the time to read this article. I
hope you found it of some value.
Stuart Fernie (stuartfernie@yahoo.co.uk)
Characters and themes in "Le Corbeau" (1943)
Reflections
on “Le Corbeau” (1943)
directed by H. G. Clouzot
starring Pierre Fresnay and Ginette Leclerc
This is the story of poison pen letters revealing the “truth” about numerous inhabitants of the French township of St Robin, centring on Dr Germain and his supposed affair with Laura, the young wife of the elderly Dr Vorzet.
The letters of denunciation become ever more frequent and have grave consequences (sometimes deserved, sometimes undeserved) for some of the population, so we follow the townspeople’s attempts to identify and stop the author of the letters.
Made during the German occupation of France (released in 1943), the film attracted considerable notoriety and disapproval from all political sides, yet was a great success with the public.
The Nazis encouraged letters of denunciation (revealing criminals, Jews and members of the Resistance among others), inviting collaboration and creating informers to further their own ends and allow the Nazis to tighten their grip on the country. This is now a source of considerable embarrassment, but at the time it was fairly common practice and it seems that Clouzot set about making a film that would increase awareness of these acts and their potential consequences.
Of course, the film is certainly not restricted to the more obvious criticism of informers, but is also a cutting look at human nature, petty jealousies, unfulfilled desires and ambition, flighty feelings and actions leading to despair, remorse and vengeance.
The film does not paint a particularly pretty or sympathetic picture of the townsfolk of St Robin, but it does give rise to reflection on various aspects of human nature and society.
Dr Germain is depicted as serious, principled, aloof and unafraid to assert himself. He does not bend to suit others, yet others set out to make him bend. Having said that, he clearly has a relationship of sorts with Laura and although he resists Denise at first, he goes on to sleep with her only to reject her again later. He accepts willingly his own capricious nature and is unapologetic.
But then all the characters are similarly two-sided. We see their public faces only to be told of their “transgressions” by Le Corbeau (the name used by the author of the letters).
Denise is married but has regularly been unfaithful to her husband, yet now she claims to be in love with Germain.
Laura appears chaste and sincere yet is in a relationship with Germain.
The male figures of authority all act with pride and confidence, yet they are denounced as incompetent by Le Corbeau.
The list goes on – it appears that nearly every member of the community has something to hide, secrets revealed by Le Corbeau which lead to distrust and conflict in the community.
Truth hurts, and society and good relationships between fellow members of the community are dependent on turning a blind eye to certain truths. In many ways it is easier to go along with a pretence or performance than to seek the truth as truth will affect everyone since society creates a web in which everyone’s lives touch everyone else’s.
In a very famous scene between Germain and Vorzet, Clouzot cleverly points out the subjective nature of truth as Vorzet swings a light bulb, thus shedding different light and offering a different perspective on what is visible, so even “truth” is dependent on many factors open to personal interpretation.
In the end we discover the identity of the author of the letters, who has acted out of jealousy and a desire for revenge, but these feelings and actions have been made public, leading to interference in others’ lives rather than simply playing a passing role in them.
Clouzot appears to be suggesting that in society we generally rub along together and maybe we should not let certain truths get in the way of our relative contentedness. Although it is tempting to give in to human nature and seek revenge for some slight, perhaps the indulgence of feelings is a luxury we cannot always afford.
Clouzot,
in his customary fashion, shows contempt for just about all his characters and
shares his cynicism equally. It is then perhaps only just that he caused
offence to both the German and French authorities with his film – the Germans
because of the implied criticism of denunciation and informing, and the French
because of his depiction of the French townsfolk. However, the result was a
two-year ban from film-making, principally due to the fact that Continental
Films (the production company) was German-led and so Clouzot was accused of
collaboration, the very thing he attacked in his film.
My
thanks for taking the time to read this article. I hope you found it of some
value.
Stuart Fernie (stuartfernie@yahoo.co.uk)
Reflections on characters and themes in "The Wages of Fear" (1953) and "Sorcerer" (1977 remake)
Reflections on “Le Salaire de la Peur” (The Wages
of Fear)1953
directed by H. G. Clouzot
screenplay by H. G. Clouzot and Jérome Geronimi
starring Yves Montand and Charles Vanel
“The Wages of Fear” is very much a film of two halves, with the first half seeing the establishment of the characters and the situation (and observations on society and human nature) followed by the suspense-filled second half which develops the characters and the testing situations in which they find themselves, and which will keep you on the edge of your seat as two pairs of drivers set out to transport highly unstable explosives across some 300 miles to extinguish a fire at an oil-well.
In the little South American town of Las Piedras, several “losers” desperate for work and a way out of the nowhere they find themselves, take on a suicide mission for an oil company less interested in the men’s safety than in maximising profit (or in this case, minimising loss). Desperation forces them to accept conditions considered by most as unacceptable, but circumstances are such that they willingly submit to the dangers involved in the mission, all in the name of money which will give them their freedom.
Although apparently very specific, the situation these “losers” face rather sums up life for many who may have lost control of their lives and have ended up in dead-end jobs and situations. Apart from Jo, who is implied to be a known “tough guy” with a murky past, these people are not criminals but have failed at various points in life, perhaps due to weak character, poor judgement or bad luck, and while they may be desperate and disillusioned, they retain humanity and our sympathy.
As with most Clouzot films, the amount of detail that is provided almost incidentally, it seems, is phenomenal, but each piece adds cleverly to our understanding of the characters, their situation, and the kind of society we have built for ourselves.
The first hour or so is largely about their relationships – there is much macho posturing and a total lack of appreciation of tenderness, love and devotion, all preferring to test themselves or prove themselves heroic or worthy in some way (at least in the eyes of the others), perhaps reflecting societal habits and conventions, particularly between men.
The opening shots of the film actually sum up beautifully what Clouzot goes on to say in the course of the film. Cockroaches are linked or tied together by some kind of cord, and are the playthings of a little boy who is then distracted by his desire for some ice-cream. When he returns to the cockroaches, he finds a vulture watching over them. Are we to impute that we (humans) are like the cockroaches, linked inescapably to one another by action and influence, manipulated by those who are easily distracted and who hold us in little regard, and threatened by others who hold us in even lower regard?
Within seconds, Clouzot goes on to make a point about human nature when one of our desperadoes throws stones at a dog, causing it distress and pain, presumably in an attempt to make him feel better about his own life by making another being feel worse about its life!
The losers (or tramps, as they become known) are all quite unpleasant to one another, suffering one another’s presence but fundamentally uninterested in one another except as a means of advancing their own cause, perhaps reflecting a fundamentally existential view of society and the world in which we use one another for company and survival without having to develop affection or concern for one other.
Women are treated no better, indeed Linda (general skivvy in a local hotel and lover of Mario, one of the losers, but who is also expected to satisfy her boss) is maltreated even by Mario, who pets her like a dog as she kisses his hand! Curiously, Mario seems willing to protect her from a beating, but not to save her from her life of sexual drudgery, perhaps because to do so might imply some form of commitment or responsibility toward her.
It is interesting to note the use of a variety of languages (used by each character) to emphasise the unbiased and global nature of these problems – they apply to everyone, wherever modern commercial society exists.
We see various other examples of corruption and unpleasantness, building a picture of an uncaring and unsympathetic society in which men will do what they must to survive and others will not interfere provided they are not directly involved.
At the heart of this uncaring and unpleasant society in microcosm is the oil company willing to risk the lives of “tramps who will not be missed” for its own ends, and which is keen to avoid responsibility only to shift it on to its “victims”. Clearly, profit and money are everything. Much was made at the time of release of the fact this is an American company (21 minutes of “anti-American” footage were removed from the American version of the film), but history has shown that it is not the nationality of the company but the very nature of commerce itself that may be viewed as at fault.
In the second half, we witness testing times for our “heroes”. Luigi and Bimba shine and set an example in terms of co-operation, sharing problems and working as a team while setting aside personal feelings or preferences, but the same cannot be said for Mario and Jo. Mario is quickly disillusioned by Jo who, after his bluster in town, now displays a distinct lack of courage and determination when tested by trials and real danger, while Mario grows and rises to the challenges before him, only to mock Jo. Curiously, they appear to swap roles as Jo is reduced to a nervous wreck and Mario loses the little humanity and compassion he had as he shows himself willing to sacrifice Jo in his attempt to fulfil his mission, and then goes on to hold Jo responsible for the wounds he, Mario, has inflicted. Mario has certainly developed – into the hard and abusive character he attributed to Jo and which he admired so much before setting out, though we may detect the remains of some humanity and regret, and therefore some hope for Mario’s future.
Life remains fundamentally unpredictable and inexplicable, however, as Luigi and Bimba’s lorry is completely destroyed in an explosion which is never clarified. Despite all their best efforts to take care and succeed, Luigi and Bimba’s lives are snuffed out in a second, suggesting that life cannot be truly controlled – we may take precautions and exercise great care and thought in all we do, but we will never master life and its fickle nature.
Mario’s success (and life-changing sum of money) goes somewhat to his head on his return journey as he drives wildly and dangerously on the very road for which he had so much respect and fear, perhaps suggesting a sense of smugness and vanity. He appears to have lost respect not only for the dangers on the road, but for life itself and he will pay the ultimate price for his overconfidence.
At the end of this gripping film, we have lost our four “heroes” who have sacrificed their lives to the only element to come out of the venture in profit – the oil company. Perhaps Clouzot is inviting us all to consider not just the value of our own contributions to society and the values we hold dear, but also, and perhaps more importantly, the general direction we are allowing society to take.
“Sorcerer” (1977) and comparison to “The
Wages of Fear”
directed by William Friedkin
script by Walon Green
starring Roy Scheider, Bruno Cremer et al.
I have seen a number of articles suggesting that William Friedkin’s “Sorcerer” is some sort of overlooked masterpiece which failed at the box office largely because it was released at the same time as “Star Wars” and because audiences found the title misleading.
I’m afraid I think there are more concrete or artistic reasons why the film failed at the box office and a brief comparison to the 1953 version may be helpful as it was a resounding success both commercially and critically, and continues to be highly regarded today. I should say that I have not read the original novel by Georges Arnaud but I note the author disliked the 1953 Clouzot version and was happy to agree to Friedkin’s production.
First and foremost, the main characters in Clouzot’s 1953 existential drama are what might be termed “losers”, not criminals (with the possible exception of Jo). They may have made poor choices and are down on their luck, but they are fundamentally honest and gain the sympathy and perhaps even the compassion of the audience, while in the Friedkin version our gang of four are criminals, killers or robbers who fail to inspire affinity or empathy in the audience. Points can be made regarding the nature of justice, humanity and fate without resorting to use of amoral characters to prove it. Here, Friedkin seems to have set out to make a film noir rather than an existential drama and in so doing he may have reduced his film’s audience base and appeal.
While the characters in the 1953 version can be unpleasant to one another, there is also humour, affection and some hope which foster engagement and warmth toward the characters, and this contrasts with the relentless misery and negativity of Sorcerer.
In the 1953 version the setting reeks of excessive heat, blinding sunlight, poverty and discomfort, but in the 1977 version we have squalor, filth, destitution and miserable weather, making it an unpleasant watch.
In “The Wages of Fear” (henceforth known as WoF), the oil company is depicted as heartless and profit-driven but this is taken to a level of serious criminal abuse in “Sorcerer”, stretching credibility and tolerance for the audience.
There is considerable contrast between the journeys in the two films – in WoF, scenes are bathed in dazzling light and tension is built through our regard for the characters’ welfare, while in “Sorcerer” these scenes are miserable, dirty and wet, and tension is built through situation rather than real regard for the fate of the characters.
In both films the value of co-operation is emphasised but this is more effective in WoF because characters develop and relationships are born and put to the test in challenging circumstances. In “Sorcerer”, there is working together, anger, relief and frustration but no relationships or friendships are formed. This may be true to the film noir ethos of the film, but because the characters remain detached and are tested rather than develop, this has an impact on audience engagement.
In WoF, we witness Jo and Mario’s steady deterioration leading to Mario’s corruption while in “Sorcerer”, Jackie Scanlon barely changes, though he kills to survive but he kills those who threaten his life. This hardly demonstrates the same moral degradation and inner conflict undergone by Mario, so there is hardly the same audience involvement or interest.
At the end of WoF, the audience is left with a sense of loss, pointlessness and waste (in keeping with the existential premise of the piece), while at the end of “Sorcerer”, there is something of a poetic irony but no real sense of loss or upset, perhaps because the audience failed to fully engage emotionally with the characters, despite the visceral nature of the film.
Having said all that, I must say “Sorcerer” is
extremely well made and the action scenes are gripping. The film’s faults lie
not in its realisation but rather in its conceptualisation and poor emotional
engagement with the audience.
Reaction to “The Wages of Fear” (2024)
Directed by Julien Leclercq
Script by Hamid Hlioua
Starring Franck Gastambide and Alban Lenoir
This is a loose adaptation whose primary (and perhaps only) link to the book and previous cinematic versions is the plot device of transporting explosives across dangerous terrain in two trucks to extinguish an oil-well fire.
It is a well-made attempt to exploit the classic tale while appealing to modern sensibilities, but in so doing it does away with virtually all the qualities, characterisations, observations and depth that made the first adaptation so successful.
I have frequently wondered if producers of remakes and sequels always understand what was appealing about original films, and this film only confirms my suspicions… Formulaic action sequences, violence and sex do not compensate for lack of characterisation, substance and pace.
My thanks for taking the time to read this article. I
hope you found it of some value.
Stuart Fernie (stuartfernie@yahoo.co.uk)
Wednesday, 2 July 2025
Proportion and self-respect through insignificance and equality
Rough thoughts on proportion and self-respect through recognition of
insignificance and equality
Pressure to do everything
perfectly and appease others may begin as external but will quickly become
internal. This striving for perfection in order to please or satisfy others may
create anxiety, overthinking, overplanning and may lead to self-inflicted
imperfections and perceived inadequacies, occasioning disappointment in how one
is perceived by others and confirming a sense of failure in oneself. Seeking
and focusing on minor defects and self-doubt rather than positive outcomes can
engender feelings of personal incompetence, inevitability and catastrophising.
All of this is predicated
upon the concept of the significance of one’s actions to others, a significance
that is often out of all proportion with reality. Most interaction with others
is transitory, often transactional, and rarely of any lasting significance.
The desire or need to
please or impress everyone you meet is nonsense - people generally use one
another to simply get by in life. Most people you meet will be unimportant to
you, just as you will be inconsequential to most people you meet – the
impression you make will not be retained by most, and even if it is, so what? Why
should their thoughts be important to you? Will you remember these people in
the future? You need to get people and their actions and reactions in
proportion so that you do not allow a fundamentally insignificant interaction
and a desire to please to take on a value and significance they do not warrant.
This exaggeration may lead to an unmerited attribution of superiority to others
and an equally undeserved sense of personal inferiority. Treat others with
respect and be polite but there is no need for anxiety – nature’s rules apply
to us all equally and you have no reason to assume others’ superiority or your
own inferiority. You may not know them, they are unlikely to mean anything to
you and, in any case, based on fleeting and relatively unimportant encounters, they
are unlikely to remember you, just as you need not remember them.
Significance and worth
should be weighed up and not be assigned automatically – do not be swayed by
position or reputation, but rather consider what others say and do and, using
balanced and reasonable judgement, attach the value you think appropriate. Wisdom
may come from even the lowest echelons of life, just as ineptness and ignorance
may spring forth from those in authority and power.
Nor should you allow
yourself to be swayed by the confidence of others. Confidence does not
necessarily imply ability or validity, indeed overconfident and highly assured
people may lack the intelligence or will to recognise their own weaknesses,
failings or poor judgement, so do not assume inferiority to someone who merely
projects confidence. Bear in mind also that this confidence may even be a
façade to obscure their own feelings of inadequacy.
Be yourself. If others
take something positive from your presence or contribution, that is good but it
is up to them, not you. You are not obliged to seek their approval. If you get
on well with someone and the relationship is natural and unforced, then this is
a solid basis for future development. If a relationship is forced and
unnatural, ultimately this is likely to cause friction and it will fail. There
is no need for anxiety as you don’t need to set out to appease others. Be
respectful, give praise where it is due but be willing to recognise what you
consider to be failings in others as well.
Do not try to adapt to
others’ company beyond the norms of politeness and respect. In so doing, you
may be debasing yourself. It is essential to maintain self-respect if a
relationship is to have any lasting value. Bear in mind that we are all in the
same position. We all share fleeting interactions, moments and memories, and we
should treat one another with proportionate respect, and that includes
ourselves.
You do things on your own
terms. You can only be yourself, not a puppet to please others, and it is only
by being yourself that your contribution will have value and you will gain
self-respect. There is no need for anxiety as you are expressing and pleasing
yourself. Do not be unnecessarily hard on yourself and recognise your own worth,
just as you are willing to recognise the worth of others.
My thanks for taking the
time to read these notes. I hope you found them of some value.
Stuart Fernie (stuartfernie@yahoo.co.uk)
Thursday, 26 June 2025
Characters and themes in "The Offence" (1973)
Reflections
on characters and themes in “The Offence” (1973)
Directed
by Sidney Lumet
Script
by John Hopkins (also the original play)
Starring Sean Connery, Ian Bannen, Vivien Merchant and Trevor Howard
Following sexual assaults
on a number of young girls, a man named Kenneth Baxter is detained for
questioning as a suspect and is treated brutally by Detective Sergeant Johnson.
“The Offence” presents a vivid picture of a police officer driven to depression
and excessive reaction by accumulated experience of death, violence, despair
and misery. The film depicts the potential, if extreme, consequences on the
human psyche of constant emotional bombardment and frustration.
However, I would say that
much more lurks beneath the surface as existential angst and lack of personal
fulfilment play their parts in the psychological deterioration of Detective
Sergeant Johnson. Johnson is, as are we all, the product of his character, his encounters
and his environment. Although ultimately we must accept responsibility for our
own actions, we all impact or influence one another and as social creatures we seek
to make connections and build sympathetic relationships with others while
trying to achieve balance and keep a sense of proportion in our lives and
outlooks. However, if that balance is skewed by experience and social
dissatisfaction, the consequences can be catastrophic…
In the original play the
action revolves around three dialogues, one between Johnson and his wife
Maureen which offers insight into Johnson’s personal life and his social
environment, one with Johnson’s superior in which we gain understanding of his
professional position and tensions, and then there is the key exchange between
Johnson and suspect Baxter in which we discern vital indications as to
Johnson’s declining state of mind and his resultant actions.
There are several nods to
existentialism as we are offered regular insights into Johnson’s personal
issues and we witness reminders of his solitude and his insular nature. He
doesn’t share his thoughts and feelings with his wife of some 16 years, which might
have afforded him some degree of catharsis. Indeed, a barrier has formed
between them, leading to resentment on both sides, a lack of emotional
fulfilment and even a sense of mutual rejection.
Thinking he may have
killed Baxter, and desperate to be listened to (a theme that will be revisited
several times), Johnson tries to open up to Maureen. Almost by way of
rationalisation of his treatment of Baxter, he sets out to express his thoughts
and experiences in an attempt to gain a sympathetic understanding of the
personal torment he is undergoing, yet he is hesitant to discuss such matters
with Maureen, emphasising the emotional distance between them.
On hearing some of the
gruesome detail he shares with her, Maureen is physically sick and Johnson,
feeling rejected, withdraws emotionally from the discussion, saying he won’t
open up again. This provokes an impassioned and bitter response from his wife which
encapsulates their relationally barren marriage and highlights his sense of
personal isolation and his perceived lack of sympathetic understanding
regarding the torment he is experiencing.
Even worse, however, he
is deliberately hurtful toward his wife, passing vicious comments on her
appearance and his disappointment with her in their marriage. He appears to
recognise this moment as a turning point in his life and is taking stock of how
he arrived at this point, apparently blaming Maureen for his lack of emotional
and, importantly, sexual fulfilment.
He has repressed so much
horror, pain, bitterness and anger that now, some twenty years later, his
feelings are starting to overflow and affect his professional conduct. He has
allowed his feelings, including, we learn, personal disappointment and sexual
frustration, to overwhelm his judgement and conduct.
In his interview with
Detective Superintendent Cartwright, Johnson seeks reassurance and
understanding from his superior. Again, Johnson asks repeatedly to be listened
to as he tries to fathom what is going on inside his head, but Cartwright is
concerned only with regulation, convention and legality, none of which is
useful to Johnson who is effectively having a breakdown. In the end, Johnson is
once again left feeling rejected and not understood so he becomes
confrontational, a reaction that leads only to further isolation.
Johnson comes closest to
achieving understanding and empathy in his conversation with suspect Baxter.
Assuming Baxter’s guilt,
Johnson tries to provoke or goad Baxter into a confession by discussing his
feelings and motivations for the attacks, but it becomes reasonably clear that
in so doing, Johnson may be revealing some of his own dark thoughts and desires…
When searching for
missing girl and probable latest victim of sexual assault, Janey, Johnson
breaks with convention and heads off alone. When he finds her, he doesn’t call
out or seek support. He tries, somewhat awkwardly, to comfort her and there is
a vague suggestion of attraction. He also appears surprised and slightly
disappointed at the arrival of his colleagues.
The matter of Baxter’s
guilt or innocence is not resolved. The fact is, however, that Baxter is used
to being bullied and he considers himself something of a manipulator of those
who set out to bully him. He plays Johnson at his own game, eventually leading
Johnson to recognise his own desires and motivations.
Stunned and almost
grateful for this breakthrough in communication and understanding, Johnson
actually asks for Baxter’s help, but in so doing, and reflecting the immense
pain and desperation he feels, Johnson unwittingly causes pain to Baxter and
Baxter breaks the spell of complicity and understanding by breaking free from
Johnson’s grip and turning on him.
Baxter feels he has
broken Johnson and prepares to leave but this act provokes a number of
responses within Johnson – deep hurt at having finally found understanding only
to be rejected by the only person who appears to have any degree of
comprehension of what he is suffering, loss of pride and position, and a sense
of defeat in that this suspect has turned the tables on him and is taking
control as he prepares to leave.
He may also have
recognised that he is essentially no better than this suspect for whom he has nothing
but contempt.
As a result, Johnson
loses control and lashes out at this embodiment of all the perversions and
social ills he has encountered over the years, but he may also be lashing out
at himself as he furiously seeks to destroy that dubious part of himself that
he has just been forced to acknowledge.
Shortly after mortally punching
Baxter, Johnson returns to his senses, sees what he has done and declares, “Oh
God, oh my God…” Whether this is solely in recognition of what he has done or
is also an acknowledgement of what he has become is left to the audience to
decide.
I found “The Offence”
intense, powerful and thought-provoking, but also relentlessly bleak and dense.
If I’m being honest, I’d have to say I found some of the dialogue clunky and unconvincing
but this was offset by excellent performances all round, especially from Sean
Connery and Ian Bannen who complemented and enhanced one another perfectly.
My thanks for taking the
time to read this article. I hope you found it of some value.
Stuart Fernie (stuartfernie@yahoo.co.uk)
Tuesday, 27 May 2025
Reflections on Danny Boyle’s “Trainspotting”
Reflections
on “Trainspotting”
Directed
by Danny Boyle
Screenplay
by John Hodge (from the novel by Irvine Welsh)
Starring
Ewan McGregor, Robert Carlyle, Jonny Lee Miller
and
Ewen Bremner
On a personal note, this article marks 25 years of posting
material online.
It is very difficult to
accurately characterise or adequately describe “Trainspotting”. It is a gritty,
dynamic, entertaining, insightful and thought-provoking mix that is part social
commentary and part fantasy with, quite unbelievably, given the setting and
subject matter of the film, an enormous dose of humour and fun woven into its
various elements. As well as touching on perceived negative aspects of society,
why people turn to drugs and the potential consequences of addiction, the film
explores the nature of relationships and the impact relationships can have on
one’s life.
That said, it does not
present its characters’ stories as relentlessly miserable or tragic – lighter moments
are emphasised as characters make their choices and we explore reasons for and
consequences of their actions, making the characters all the more engaging,
relatable and human. It is perhaps because of this quality that many dismissed
the film at the time of its release as glorifying drug use but I would suggest
these people may not have actually seen the film or confused sympathy and
accessibility with approval.
The way scenes are filmed
undoubtedly creates a sense of collusion or complicity with audiences. We
virtually share the sensations of the characters as they fall 90 degrees to the
floor, crawl into a toilet, sink uncontrollably into a bed or pass through a
tunnel at speed while under the influence of drugs, but we also share the
impact and emotion of other very touching scenes. These highly sensorial, personal
and intimate scenes, combined with unpredictable sharp dialogue and excellent
performances, serve to engage the senses and the minds of the audience,
provoking a range of reactions from profound sympathy to repulsion.
So, why do Renton, Sick
Boy and Spud turn to drugs?
They appear to be either
unable or unwilling to comply with or conform to social conventions and
expectations. In good part, it seems they are driven by a desire to avoid or
seek an alternative to what they perceive as a banal social contrivance that
involves making a dull, repetitive and soulless contribution to their
community. They do not experience fulfilment in social reality so they seek it,
in terms of sheer pleasure and indulgence, within their own minds.
Of course, we are invited
to judge whether or not this dream world or escape from perceived drudgery is
worth the shabby, grim reality and its consequences, and we are left in no
doubt as to the horrific results of addiction as Renton’s life literally goes
down the worst toilet in Scotland, a metaphor that is brilliantly conceived and
realised through a mixture of horror and humour, making the whole all the more
arresting, engaging and provocative.
The film explores a
number of relationships and friendships.
Renton’s parents treat
him with love, affection and sympathy despite his failure to resolve his
problems and Renton clearly depends on them for support. Ultimately, their son
must follow his own nature, make his own choices and make his own way but as
his parents, they wish to be there for him, no matter what.
The friendship shared by
the main characters appears to be based largely on common experience and
sharing childhood development, casting doubt on the importance of values in
their relationships and emphasising the influence friends have on one another,
especially the loyalty expected of a friend. These pals bolster and validate
one another to the point of impeding personal and social growth and as such
they fail to grow out of self-indulgence or accept the challenges of adulthood,
maturity and responsibility.
Begbie, Sick Boy and Spud
are well drawn and are of interest in themselves as they develop to some extent
and contribute to the storyline and Renton’s evolution, but they remain largely
as they are when we first meet them;
Begbie remains a
narcissistic psychopath throughout, though his mental state seems to
deteriorate and his actions are ever more unhinged (though highly entertaining
at the same time!), while Sick Boy is self-indulgent but seems to lose his
moral compass after the death of his baby in a drug den. Spud is a harmless
loon lacking in self-esteem and purpose who follows his pals and seeks merely
to please and accommodate his friends.
Renton, however, evolves.
He is intelligent and articulate but he does not see fulfilment in society as
he perceives it though he makes some effort to conform as he gets clean and
finds work in London. However, he is drawn back to the shadowy world of drugs
and minor crime through attachment and loyalty to his friends but also, more
importantly, because that is the life he chose and he is attracted to it.
Indeed, it might even be suggested that the film is the story of Renton’s
coming to terms with and accepting his own nature.
He is no master criminal
or drug lord but, having been part of a minor drug deal, he yields to
temptation and steals the £16,000 proceeds from his friends who have used and
abused him but who were willing to exploit their bond of friendship. A pang of
conscience ensures he leaves Spud his share as Spud never did anyone any harm
but otherwise Renton seems genuinely happy as he leaves London. Having recognised
the insubstantial nature of his friendship with the others, he turns his back
on his childhood friends and perhaps any remaining delusions he had of loyalty
and conformity. He has, perhaps, finally given in to his nature and seems
relieved as he saunters off with his ill-gotten gains. He has grown up, become
independent, and has turned his friends’ standard of morality on them, leaving them
to face the consequences of their actions. It would be nice to think that
Renton learned a life lesson and started afresh but his history and implied
nature suggest otherwise…
It seems to me that “Trainspotting”
is that rare thing in cinema – an at times entertaining and amusing film noir
or existential drama. The film casts doubt on the existence of morality or
providence as, in bleak circumstances, the characters do what they must do to
survive while following their natures and display few signs of control over
their destinies. Of course, our film represents a major variation on film noir
in its enormous energy and the sheer fun to be had while viewing it.
Danny Boyle’s focused direction
offers eye-catching and stunning moments that serve the storyline and ensure audience
engagement without slipping into self-indulgent or vainglorious strategies and
techniques, while John Hodge’s screenplay (from Irvine Welsh’s original novel)
captures the humanity, vulnerability and above all the relative innocence
(despite the circumstances) of the characters.
As for the performances,
I thought all were quite stunning. Ewan McGregor was, of course, quite superb
as the tortured Renton and special mention needs to be made of Robert Carlyle’s
sheer heartfelt energy, Ewen Bremner’s comic but poignant performance and Jonny
Lee Miller’s almost perfect Scottish accent...
My thanks for taking the
time to read this article. I hope you found it of some value.
Stuart Fernie (stuartfernie@yahoo.co.uk)