Hehe, I find Snyder has been shadowed a little bit by 300 (he's making a 300 2 (how will they title that!?) at the moment I think). I remember when I was studying history in college, our lecturer decided to take us to see it. He gave us this elaborate lecture on the history of the battle beforehand, then of course: giant trolls, Persian ninjas, etc. I think I heard him say "for fuck sake" under his breath.
ROFL!!!! Okay, that would be hilarious!
I haven't seen it. I have the Frank Miller book but was a bit bored by it -- sometimes he seems to recycle his own work. His earlier stuff in Daredevil, TDKR, Sin City, and the Wolverine limited from years back are my favorite work by him.
At a different performance a friend went to, someone stood up in the middle of the film and said "this film is shit." Of course, the youth sitting behind her stood up and said "no, this is sparta!" and booted her in the back. They got kicked out. He makes entertaining films, just not sure he's the guy I would have picked for something like Watchmen. ^_^
I'm not even sure how he ended up doing it. It was bounced, as is typical, from director to director and somehow with him it stuck. The studio obviously had no <blanking> idea what the book was about.
I've seen Cloud Atlas. That's interesting to know the original structure, as I didn't know it was based on a novel, and it confused me a little in honesty. The opening 20 minutes where it's introducing the story archs was quite disorientating, but I got into the flow of it after a point. There were certain transitions, like where it's changing between the guy on the mast and the people on the bridge, that felt a bit rough. It didn't feel like the content was meaningfully related, more superficially, unlike something like Watchmen, where each transition creates quite interesting juxtapositions.
I just rewatched it this weekend, and will watch it again when the Bluray comes out next week. It's a lot more intelligible on the second pass, honestly. There is just too much going on to catch it all the first time.
Essentially there are "souls" in the movie, and you can track them by the actors who play them, regardless of time period. Karma is working, and regardless of what gender, race, or age the character is, the character's choices impact later outcome. This is why the same 6-7 actors perform in various roles of gender, race, and age througout the movie... and why complaints about not hiring Asians for the Asian segment is kind of silly -- the whole premise of the movie demands that all the actors play whites, blacks, and Asians, and the two female Asians in the cast themselves play Latino, white, and male characters.
Hanks' soul is one of the more struggling souls in the story -- sometimes he does good, sometimes he does bad, and finally in the sixth narrative (where he plays Zachry, beset by Kona cannibals) he makes a definitive choice to sacrifice and take a risk, rather than choosing what is convenient or safe... a huge choice for him considering he is tormented in that narrative by an act of horrible cowardice that ends replaying in a redemptive way for him later. [Note the gem around his neck that is choking him when the cannibal tries to kill him, in the necklace that then breaks off -- and it resembles the buttons he was stealing from the lawyer back in the first narrative. Greed and self-interest is one of the flaws of his soul, but he overcomes it here and it stops choking him. There are little details like that throughout the movie, to tie things together.]
Two souls that do well are the lawyer and his wife Tilda (both white) from the first narrative. They come to be abolitionists in that story, as Autua the black ex-slave saves the lawyer's life; and this plays out when the two lovers meet again in the Somni-451 storyline, both Asian now, and are willing to lay down their lives in the need to proclaim truth and liberate the culture from its enslavement of replicants. The culture eventually dies, but Somni's words resonate through the ages, leaving her worshiped as a goddess in Zachry's narrative.
An example of a soul gone bad is Hugo Weaving's. He starts out as a nasty slave-owner, a representative of the system, in the first narrative, does lots of crappy stuff in the other narratives regardless of gender or race, and finally plays the bicameral voice of the anti-God in Zachry's mind in the last narrative.
I think the film suffered from having too many directors. I eventually could work out what bits Twyker had worked on, and what the Wachowski's had. They have quite different styles, and I'm not sure it really fit. I found myself notably liking certain archs (mostly those Twyker worked on) and getting tired with others. (I really liked the old couple's arch, where they're escaping the home: I thought they had a lot of life and character. Weaving did a great job as the nurse to. )
It didn't really bother me. I think the only real leap is when the Wachowski's went all Matrix-y on the Somni piece, it has a lot of action and I don't think the book focused on that. However, if you read the book, all six narratives have the same settings as the movie's, and all have the same varying tonal shifts. The 1973 piece really is like a noir detective film, the Somni piece is scifi, the old people's story is tongue-in-cheek, the last piece I think uses stylized language like Burgess in Clockwork Orange, etc. It's all right out of the book. So the directors actually modeled all that after the book itself.
The Cavandish escape is just a pretty hilarious segment altogether, starting with Hanks' response to one of his most outspoken critics (that was pretty awesome!) to the final fight scene in the pub.
For the purposes of this fine philosophy thread I'd be interested in hearing people's takes on its philosophy, I guess.
Well, thematically, it's about karma and the (d)evolution of particular souls. It is also about the infinite nature of love and how when two souls together, they will find each other regardless of their station or situation. It is about the oppressive order of the system, which seeks to repress and control in favor of a few, vs the truth which is about being oneself, treating EVERYONE as human regardless of race, gender, or age (ask Lana Wachowski about that, I think her transgender experiences are reflected throughout that theme). And finally, it's about us all being drops in a big ocean, thus infinitessimally tiny and yet without drops, the ocean would not exist -- about being part of the celestial orchestral with our narratives weaving in and out of each other's, unable to exist without the others, creating something magnificent.
It felt like The Fountain to me in some respects, at least with the sense of enduring love and the entwining of life.
My favorite segments are the 1936 segment with the young gay composer (Ben Whishaw, what a beautiful guy) and the Somni section, since they resonate the most with me.