Cinematic Double Act (Part One)

So, on Saturday I decided to go to the cinema to see a couple of films. One of the advantages of having a Cineworld Unlimited card means I can see as many films as I want at the cinema every month for only £13.50. One of the disadvantages is feeling compelled to visit the cinema at least two or three times a month so I'm not wasting my money. In dry spells at the cinema, this feeling is going to be pretty common, I expect.

Well, this month I've already covered the cost of my card, by seeing Back to the Future (which was truly awesome to finally see on the big screen) the other week and by Saturday's trip to see two films, the experience of which I shall now share. If you are intent on avoiding spoilers, stop reading now. So, what did I go to see? 

Film number one was Buried, directed by Rodrigo Cortés and starring Ryan Reynolds in the role of Paul Conroy, an American truck driver working as a contractor in Iraq, who finds he has been buried alive with only a lighter and a mobile phone. The entire ninety minutes of the movie consists of Conroy trying to figure out why he is in the box and how to get out before he suffocates. The camera never cuts away to anything else. The closest thing to a glimpse of the world outside of the box is a video sent to the phone he is using. So, it’s a bit of an avant-garde film in that regard.

The film is clever, certainly; it manages to explore such themes as corporate corruption and political interests involved in hostage situations and the horrific impact these things can have on an innocent man—all from a box buried in the desert. Frankly, that is quite astounding and something not many films can attest to. I’m certainly impressed.

You’d be surprised how a film about a man stuck in a box for ninety minutes can possibly stay interesting, but Buried manages to do it, with a pretty gripping, albeit thoroughly depressing and disturbing, story. By using the phone that was left in the box with him, Paul learns about his captors and what they want—five million US dollars for his release (though they’ll settle for one million). He manages to contact the FBI, his employers, his kidnappers, and a crisis team set up to deal with situations like his, which leads to him being pulled in different directions by the competing interests of the various parties; the kidnappers demand that he make videos for them in order to ransom him, while the crisis team insist that he not cooperate with them and avoid contacting the media at all costs, so that they can “contain the situation”.

This brings the doctrine that “the United States government does not negotiate with terrorists”, arguably the primary theme of the movie, under the microscope, to be scrutinized from the perspective of the hostage, implying that such policies are divorced from the genuine human tragedy of the situation—why should Paul care about the high-minded politics of people in air-conditioned offices thousands of miles away? He just wants to be rescued so he can return safely to his family, as anyone in this situation would. If that means giving the criminals the money, then so be it. Furthermore, the corrupt policies of certain corporations, seeking to disavow themselves of any responsibility towards the predicament of their employees is also explored: towards the end of the film, Paul is contacted by his employer who informs him—yes, while he is buried in a box in the desert in Iraq and almost certain to die—that his employment with them was terminated that morning, prior to his kidnapping, due to “fraternising with a colleague”, meaning his current situation is not their responsibility. They will do nothing to help him and his family is not entitled to his life insurance money. He denies their allegations, but they insist they have evidence verifying it. Furthermore, the woman he is accused of fraternising with was also kidnapped by the same criminals and, conveniently, shot dead some time before this call, leaving her unable to either confirm or deny these allegations. His employers do not treat him as a human being in a genuinely horrific situation, but rather as a commodity, to be used and discarded as soon as he is no longer profitable to them.

So, the overarching theme of Buried, as far as I can tell, is the way in which people in hostage situations are dehumanised by the people responsible for dealing with them. For the government officials, Paul is a pawn in a game of chess with his criminal captors; though they have no desire to sacrifice him, they’re more concerned with winning the game than returning him home safely to his family. They will use him to get to their enemy, they will lie to him to ensure his cooperation, and they will allow him to die if doing so means the criminals are captured or killed. True, the government official Paul speaks to the most, Dan seems genuinely interested in rescuing him, but he still isn’t above lying to keep Paul’s hopes up that help is on the way and to thus keep him on his side.

The government officials in the film and their real-world counterparts no doubt subscribe to the principle that such actions must sometimes be taken in the interests of the greater good. I’m sure we’ve all heard words to the effect of, “some must be sacrificed if all are to be saved”. In fact, I’m fairly sure that most people, to some degree, actually agree with this philosophy. But what Buried does, in my opinion, is to ask us, how do we explain this to those who end up being sacrificed?

So what is my final verdict? Honestly, I appreciate the thematic content of the film. Cinematically, it is also very impressive, particularly in that it manages to create such suspense and tension without ever leaving the box, and Ryan Reynolds delivers an excellent performance. I would describe this as a “good” film, from a purely thematic and cinematic standpoint; however, I did not enjoy Buried. From start to finish, it was a depressing parade of hopes being dashed one by one, as Paul struggles, ultimately in futility, against his inevitable demise. Yes. Paul dies. In the box. He never escapes. Even after fighting off a snake that creeps inside through a crack, even after being told by his employers that he was conveniently fired earlier that day, leaving his family with no compensation and only seven hundred dollars of his personal savings to their name, even after satisfying the demands of the his captors (including filming himself cutting off his own finger), and even after swearing to his wife that help is on the way and he’ll be home safely soon, help ultimately fails to find him and he is left to suffocate and die under the sand pouring into his box.

Some will no doubt argue that a last minute rescue, on the very brink of death, would defeat the entire purpose of the film. It would be an unrealistic fairytale ending that would undermine the themes of the movie and vindicate the government officials that are one of the guilty parties in this situation. Paul must die, they would say, or we will forgive the government officials for treating him as nothing more than a pawn and forget that his employers fired him, ostensibly for nothing more than becoming a financial liability to them. But how do I know anyone would say this? Because I’m one of those people, and that is precisely what I think.

No, I didn’t like this film, I have no intention of ever seeing it again, and I do not recommend it to anyone who wants to go to the cinema to have a good time watching an enjoyable film. But I appreciate Buried for what it is trying to do, which I think it does very well. This is not a film that is meant to be enjoyed; it is a film that is meant to make the audience think.

Anyways, I shall talk about the second film I saw on Saturday, Alpha & Omega in a later post. This one is long enough as it is.