The second part of director Gus Van Sant's "Death trilogy", Elephant was a film I had mixed expectations of, having been somewhat dissatisfied with Gerry, the first of the moribund triptych.
Following the lives of a multitude of high-school kids, Elephant gradually covers two days in their lives, alternatively accompanying groups and individuals as they go about their daily routine, and building finally to a tragic crescendo.
One of the most instantly interesting things about Elephant is the issue of spoilers. Despite the fact that the aforementioned tragic crescendo does not become entirely apparent until a good portion of the film's running time has elapsed, it is all but impossible to not know what will happen in Elephant unless one watches it with total ignorance intact, for so widespread is the coverage of its eventual issue. Perhaps even more noteworthy is the fact that this doesn't matter. The real-world basis of the film—the Columbine massacre—is far from a comfortable subject, and one which courted the film its share of controversy and criticism. Let's turn first to the look of the film. Much like in Gerry, Van Sant demonstrates his cinematic artistry, speaking to us with the camera, communicating with us through his visuals. The long tacking shot cinematography wistfully follows the characters as they walk through the school corridors, taking in scenes from a multitude of angles, and offering us fresh perspectives on scenarios, incidentally informing us of the fact that there are multiple ways to interpret anything we see, depending on where we stand. The way in which the camera focuses upon actions and movements of the hand seems reminiscent of Michael Haneke; indeed, the film seems to share with those of Haneke the atmosphere of foreboding, and the uncomfortable sensation that something is not quite right. The humanity and realism of the film's characters is to be commended, neither expressly good nor bad guys to be found within. The antagonists, insofar as it is possible to call them even that, are not just senseless forces of evil, but well-rounded characters with emotional motivations, human weaknesses, and enough in the way of realism to make you genuinely sympathise with, even understand them. The evil of the film lies in the society around us, the society which allows such a thing to happen, which makes available deadly weapons and explosives assembly instructions on the internet, which is so rife with violence and bloodshed in the mainstream media. The film silently but brilliantly shows the ills of our society which so often give way to such horrific incidences. One of my very favourite things about the film, and an element of its narrative was appears to have confused many viewers here, is the character of Benny, who is afforded a title card in the film's fleeting moments, apparently assigning him a key significance as the cliché role of saviour. His fate—rather recalling that of Dick Hallorann in Kubrick's The Shining—is Van Sant's way of saying that "saving" the characters of the film is beyond his control. He cannot employ so well-versed a narrative path to change the outcome of the story; though it is a film, its events are unchangeable, their occurrence in the real world preventing interference therewith in a fictional one. These things can happen. They have happened. And they will again, if we fail to recognise and emend the societal flaws which Elephant identifies.
With Gerry, Van Sant displayed an astounding cinematic vision, an eye for pure aesthetics, and a marvellous understanding of the language of cinema, though he failed to reinforce this visual splendour with sufficient depth of theme. Elephant redresses the balance, applying the director's style to a deeply provocative, intelligent, emotionally involving, and societally important film. Speaking volumes about issues in our modern world, and managing to subtly yet effectively create an atmosphere of the most unnerving horror, this is an indisputable masterpiece, and one of the very finest films of its decade.
Following the lives of a multitude of high-school kids, Elephant gradually covers two days in their lives, alternatively accompanying groups and individuals as they go about their daily routine, and building finally to a tragic crescendo.
One of the most instantly interesting things about Elephant is the issue of spoilers. Despite the fact that the aforementioned tragic crescendo does not become entirely apparent until a good portion of the film's running time has elapsed, it is all but impossible to not know what will happen in Elephant unless one watches it with total ignorance intact, for so widespread is the coverage of its eventual issue. Perhaps even more noteworthy is the fact that this doesn't matter. The real-world basis of the film—the Columbine massacre—is far from a comfortable subject, and one which courted the film its share of controversy and criticism. Let's turn first to the look of the film. Much like in Gerry, Van Sant demonstrates his cinematic artistry, speaking to us with the camera, communicating with us through his visuals. The long tacking shot cinematography wistfully follows the characters as they walk through the school corridors, taking in scenes from a multitude of angles, and offering us fresh perspectives on scenarios, incidentally informing us of the fact that there are multiple ways to interpret anything we see, depending on where we stand. The way in which the camera focuses upon actions and movements of the hand seems reminiscent of Michael Haneke; indeed, the film seems to share with those of Haneke the atmosphere of foreboding, and the uncomfortable sensation that something is not quite right. The humanity and realism of the film's characters is to be commended, neither expressly good nor bad guys to be found within. The antagonists, insofar as it is possible to call them even that, are not just senseless forces of evil, but well-rounded characters with emotional motivations, human weaknesses, and enough in the way of realism to make you genuinely sympathise with, even understand them. The evil of the film lies in the society around us, the society which allows such a thing to happen, which makes available deadly weapons and explosives assembly instructions on the internet, which is so rife with violence and bloodshed in the mainstream media. The film silently but brilliantly shows the ills of our society which so often give way to such horrific incidences. One of my very favourite things about the film, and an element of its narrative was appears to have confused many viewers here, is the character of Benny, who is afforded a title card in the film's fleeting moments, apparently assigning him a key significance as the cliché role of saviour. His fate—rather recalling that of Dick Hallorann in Kubrick's The Shining—is Van Sant's way of saying that "saving" the characters of the film is beyond his control. He cannot employ so well-versed a narrative path to change the outcome of the story; though it is a film, its events are unchangeable, their occurrence in the real world preventing interference therewith in a fictional one. These things can happen. They have happened. And they will again, if we fail to recognise and emend the societal flaws which Elephant identifies.
With Gerry, Van Sant displayed an astounding cinematic vision, an eye for pure aesthetics, and a marvellous understanding of the language of cinema, though he failed to reinforce this visual splendour with sufficient depth of theme. Elephant redresses the balance, applying the director's style to a deeply provocative, intelligent, emotionally involving, and societally important film. Speaking volumes about issues in our modern world, and managing to subtly yet effectively create an atmosphere of the most unnerving horror, this is an indisputable masterpiece, and one of the very finest films of its decade.