Franklyn: A Cult Classic in the Making

Taking elements from movies as diverse as Crash, Tideland, Donnie Darko, and Pan's Labyrinth, Franklyn manages a uniqueness all its own that really does not belong in Hollywood - thus it is but a little suprise that it has not yet seen (nor is there yet scheduled) a North American release. New York film school graduate Gerald McMorrow's debut feature film opened at the London Film Festival last October, and has recieved almost unanimous good considering, but-type reviews from critics thus far. It has been criticized for not delivering an emotional climax, for taking subtlety to a level beyond simple confusion, and for losing its audience before they can reap the reward for their attention. All of which is of course beyond the point. The same critics universally praised - with the exception of Donnie - far more confusing films (including all four mentioned above!), which came from experienced, well-established directors. Crash won Best Picture in 2004, Tideland was Terry Gilliam's arthouse masterpiece, and I don't think I've ever heard a bad critical word regarding the Spanish-language underworld of Pan's Labyrinth. The bottom line being: if you managed to follow those movies, you can't complain of feeling lost by Franklyn.

Ultimately, it just seems very unlikely that many critics truly did follow every aspect of a movie like Tideland from start to finish - I sure as hell don't claim to have done so. But the problem is that they write reviews like they have. True art should move you without you completely understanding why. Mystery, ambiguity, and subtelty are crucial benchmarks of good film, literature and music. The infamous Ernest Hemingway, master of subtelty, of conveying complex emotions through devastatingly simple, terse, 'athletic' prose, adressed the issue when responding to critics of Old Man and the Sea, which ultimately earned him the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Then there is the other secret. There isn't any symbolism. The sea is the sea. The old man is an old man. The boy is a boy and the fish is a fish. The shark are all sharks no better and no worse. All the symbolism that people say is shit. What goes beyond is what you see beyond when you know.

to Bernard Betenson, 1952, Selected Letters, p. 780

'What goes beyond is what you see beyond when you know.' What a perfect window into understanding how the viewer should approach a movie such as McMorrow's Franklyn. This is not to say that movies should be ambigious for the sake of being ambigious. Hemingway explains again:

In truly good writing no matter how many times you read it you do not know
how it is done. That is because there is a mystery in all great writing and
that mystery does not dissect out. It continues and it is always valid. Each
time you re-read you see or learn something new.
to Harvey Breit, 1952, Selected Letters, p. 770

One of the film's strongest points is that it does not broadcast its
intentions from the beginning. It is this unpredictability that has sparked
many of the 'negative' reviews it has recieved thus far; it is this
unpredictablity that separates it into the 99th percentile of Hollywood
films. Much like Donnie Darko or Tideland, the audience does not know why certain things are happening, but the film manages to convey the unshakeable emotion that it is important. In watching the movie I did not attempt to dissect every detail, certainly not on a first viewing, but rather let the film surprise me, using my feelings,
rather than the critical, mathematical part of my mind (admittedly a very
small part), to understand. I think if you let your feelings follow a work
of true art, you will come away with a greater emotional reward and more
thorough comprehension than you would from a hard-boiled analytical analysis. For me, this was certainly true for a movie like I'm Not There - and it proved true on a lesser scale (for Franklyn is just not that confusing) in this case.

What Franklyn reveals is not only the importance of imagination, but its neccesity. The four main characters each are searching for something outside of the realms of
conventional reality. McMorrow uses elements of science fiction twists to strengthen his plot and accentuate the imaginations of his characters. Margaret Atwood, an excellent writer of prose, has adamantly opposed her work being called science fiction because she thinks it lacks academic credibility - but movies like Franklyn, books like Atwood's own The Handmaid's Tale, and McCarthy's The Road, are all very much science fiction with a very serious reputation as significant works of art. Atwood
should take note of this, and realize that her resistance is a moot point, and not an argument she wants to make. Without moving into the surreal and the fantastical, Franklyn would be just another film. With expert use of these elements, imagination comes to play a vital role. Each character is searching for something that everyday life can no longer provide. J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye offers some perspective here, from the voice of Holden's "queer" former teacher, Mr. Antolini:

This fall I think you're riding for - it's a special kind of fall, a horrible
kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started.

Instead of giving up the search, the focus characters of Franklyn create their own realities, fantasy realms that replace a world too cold and unforgiving for their spirits to manage. They are all falling, they are all looking for something their own environment cannot supply them with. The concluding confluence is rewarding and surprising, if a bit difficult to follow. But we're not talking about reading Ulysses here - it's a good movie, with great performances by both Eva Green (Casino Royale) and newcomer Sam Riley, with editing and directing beyond the scope of the rookie director's experience. Overall a thoroughly worthwhile experience, and I expect it to be one of the top films of 2009 - should it ever be given a North American release date, that is.

Song of the Day: "Romeo and Juliet" by The Killers (cover of the Dire Straits). A great cover of a great song. After hearing this my respect for The Killers has blossomed. They have managed to convey the simplicity and raw emotion of one of the greatest songs of the 20th century. It's hard to say exactly what makes this song so great - mostly likely it's lyrics, as they stand on their own as a poem in a way that music hasn't done since the Dylan era. The more limited the intrusion on the lyrics, the better this song is. With simple, basic harmonics and a good, clear voice this song could not be bad in any hands. With The Killers, one of the best bands of the 21st century, it is near genius.

Skip in to 1:00 if you don't want to hear Brandon Flowers' and co. give a brief introduction. For all the various controversies over the years revolving around Flowers himself, he actually seems like a pretty good guy, very genuine. (I think my favorite quote of his came when he was talking about Green Day's live performance in England, where thousands of Europeans are singing along to 'American Idiot': "I just thought it was really cheap. To go to a place like England or Germany and sing that song — those kids aren't taking it the same way that he meant it." Which is a damn good point.

Live at Abbey Road: