In case you’re wondering what’s going on with the second issue of The Journal of Wordplay, it’s coming soon! I’ve done most of what I need to do with it, but I’m waiting for a crucial bit of permission on an article I really don’t want to publish without.
In the meantime, I think enough time has passed since the release of Barbenheimer to submit this two-way review. Spoilers follow for those who’ve yet to see one film or the other…
The movie begins with a transformative bright light over a barren wasteland, soon cutting to a shot of the staring protagonist, who already seems poised to change the world. The titular protagonist tiptoes through the early scenes, haunted by incongruous thoughts of death. Though established in their world, they have secrets that could cause their expulsion to its fringes.
The important action takes place in an improvised community in the western U.S., surrounded by desert. This is, for a time, the protagonist’s place of power. Through it, they have far-ranging influence on events in the rest of the world. In the long run, though, the world starts to influence the protagonist back. They consult an aged, white-haired mentor about this, while the smaller-minded social climber attached to them both looks on, not really understanding their bond, even though he facilitated their meeting.
The greatest love in the protagonist’s life is deeply unhappy. In their last scene together, the protagonist is not without compassion about that, and they do what they can to address it. But what they can do is only so much. Overall, they are a disengaged partner. The protagonist treats members of the opposite sex as more or less interchangeable, granting none of those people access to their own deepest feelings.
A guy you’ll recognize for playing a Marvel hero is the most consistently villainous face in a sea of big-name actors playing small parts. He gets to sneer as never before. But the real villain is a system of destructive ideas running through society. That system of thinking infects everyone from the protagonist’s once-trusted peers to the President. Only a community that believes in knowledge and enlightenment over bigotry and constant conflict can even hope to oppose it. That community does win a modest victory over it by the movie’s end.
In some ways, the protagonist’s belief in a better society is vindicated by this and by other moments seen along the course of the story. Their triumphs would be impossible if that belief weren’t at least a little bit true.
In other ways, it’s shown to be laughably naive. The consequences of their actions aren’t as rosy as they once hoped, making them an exploitable commodity to more cynical sorts. This shakes their sense of self. When others accuse them of harming society, they’re out of their depth and unable to fight back. Or unwilling. And on a global scale, the system they oppose will go on.
The film ends with the protagonist at a remove from the world and the footprints they’ve left on it. There’s no going back to that old gated community. Their thoughts are consumed again, this time by images of a great void opening up, once unimaginable. It’s now key to their view of themselves. And it’s tied to mortality, their own and everyone else’s. There is no mid-credits or end credits scene.
LOTS OF FUN! GREAT IDEA. (Why fdidn't I think of it!?)
THANK YOU.