#I think a lot of actors in the industry loose their identity trying to fit in and not making to much waves

[wenellyb]

Everybody is thirsting over Tenoch Huerta, and I agree that he's so so hot but the sexiest thing about him is his soul.

Every time I'm watching an interview of him, I'm humbled by how much he brings into the conversation.

I've personally never really seen a male actor talk so vocally about colorism and racism in the entertainment industry and in soctiey (the only ones I can think about right now are John Boyega and Jesse Williams) but it's something that isn't so common.

Tenoch talks about it so unapologetically and actually says the words, he doesn't sugarcoat it or minimizes it. He not afraid to talk about how racism and colorism are still present in Mexican society.

He's not afraid to talk about what the movie means to him, he's not afraid to talk about his origins, his history, about how for hundreds of years Mexican people with Indegenous origins like him were thought to be ashamed of those origins, and how they were taught to be ashamed of their ancestors, how it's a trauma shared with all the people who were "conquered" but how proud he is of his origins now.

He's not making his way by trying to blend in but by being himself.

Another example I have in mind was in a talk show the other day he was asked a question about accents and explained how accents are part of our identity, it's our linguistic identity. He gave the example of "American English" and "British English", he went on to explain how you can't really say that one or the other is the correct accent, it's just different linguistic identity. Let me tell you, I had never thought of accent that way but, wow.

He explained how happy he was that Ryan Coogler wanted to keep his accent and didn't ask him to work on it or change it and made it part of his character.

I'm mesmerized by the way he talks about such important issues, I mesmerized by the way he talks about his castmates, I mesmerized by the way he doesn't let any question destabilize him and just choses to be unapologetically himself.

[denimbex1986]

'Here we are, three weeks into January, and the Sundance Film Festival has delivered what promises to be the year’s most uncomfortable date movie: a grubby New York-set fable about a facially distinctive actor (modeled on Adam Pearson) who undergoes an experimental procedure that leaves him looking like Sebastian Stan — presumably an improvement, until he realizes that under the skin, he’s still the same miserable loser.

The kind of oddball satire only indie studio A24 would dare to produce, Aaron Schimberg’s “A Different Man” asks what it means to be “normal,” and whether, if we could wave a magic wand and “correct” those qualities that set us apart, that’s really something we’d want. “Twilight Zone”-level weird at times, “A Different Man” suggests the bizart-house version of a Woody Allen movie, wherein traditional jokes have been axed in favor of long, cringe-inducing scenes between a nervous shlub named Edward (Stan, disguised to the point of unrecognizability) and the out-of-his-league neighbor on whom he has a crush (Renate Reinsve of “The Worst Person in the World”).

If you’ve seen Schimberg’s previous feature, “Chained for Life,” or Jonathan Glazer’s out-there “Under the Skin,” then you’re already familiar with Pearson, a British actor whose unique appearance — the result of a condition called neurofibromatosis, incorrectly associated for years with “Elephant Man” Joseph Merrick — made him just right for a handful of incredibly specific film roles.

Now comes Edward, the character Pearson was born to play. Except Schimberg casts Stan instead, hiding him behind an elaborate mask for much of the film. Makeup pro Mike Marino’s mostly convincing prosthetics replicate many of Pearson’s signature features — the asymmetrical brow, swollen lips and loose jowls — which inevitably invites the question why Schimberg didn’t simply ask Pearson to play Edward.

“Exactly!” the writer-director would surely reply, pleased to see that his thought-provoking project has audiences engaging with the kind of issues the looks-conscious film industry is still trying to wrap its head around. Here’s one, straight out of Schimberg’s script: “Do you cast someone with a condition even though it’s not the right fit?” And who gets to tell such stories anyway? (Schimberg, for the record, was born with a cleft palate and focuses much of his work on shifting cultural views of such conditions. To his credit, he imbues even the smallest supporting characters with the sense that their lives continue off-screen.)

With “A Different Man,” Schimberg attempts — and mostly succeeds, with deliciously awkward results — to cram a lifetime of thoughts about beauty and ugliness, attraction and disgust, identity and performance into a postmodern meta-film mold that few (apart from Charlie Kaufman, perhaps) have managed to make tolerable. Add to that Schimberg’s Brechtian way of cueing audiences to interrogate his choices as they go (the makeup is deliberately imperfect, the script brazenly self-conscious), and you get an exercise better suited for film critics and academics than for an amusement-seeking public.

Embodying an aspiring playwright and not-especially-good actor, respectively, Reinsve and Stan could be two sides of the self-loathing character Nicolas Cage plays in “Adaptation”: artist and muse, splintered into separate personae, both struggling to find the appropriate/ethical/respectful way to communicate the experience of someone with a conspicuous physical deformity. Expecting the pair to also be romantic partners is asking a lot of a movie that crams a seminar’s worth of representation issues into two hours (which can feel like years, the way Schimberg draws out the discomfort).

“A Different Man” shares how it feels to be ogled and avoided by strangers as Edward rides the subway home, relying on Umberto Smerilli’s score to amplify our uneasy sense of identification. He startles Ingrid (Reinsve) the first time she sees him, moving in next door to his filthy apartment (there’s a disgusting black leak in his living room ceiling). But she shows no sign of unease when she stops by later that day to borrow detergent, which Edward isn’t sure how to interpret. Stan’s body language — stooped shoulders, hesitant gestures, ducked head — positions Edward as a pitiful character, which in turn is how Ingrid depicts him in a play written expressly for him to play the lead.

But before she can finish, Edward agrees to participate in a medical study that could potentially reverse his condition. (In reality, there’s no known cure for neurofibromatosis, and it’s a smart move on Schimberg’s part to keep the science/sci-fi to a minimum.) Soon enough, Edward’s face starts to peel — a gory process that involves stripping away Stan’s makeup to reveal the conventionally attractive mug underneath.

Suddenly, Edward has no trouble picking up women. He tells people that Edward died and invents a new name, Guy, landing a lucrative job in a real estate office. When he learns that Ingrid finished her play, he shows up to audition, bringing a mold of his old face and wearing it as a mask. The lead role was literally written for him, but he’s no longer right for the part. And then Pearson shows up, playing an upbeat, outgoing guy named Oswald who is the opposite of “Guy” in every way except one: He has the same face that Edward did, only more expressive.

“A Different Man” could have ended there, but Schimberg digs deeper, embracing the increasingly unhinged, high-concept absurdity that follows. Judging by the one screen credit pre-transformation Edward had to his name — a sensitivity-training video about working alongside people with facial differences — acting is not this guy’s calling. The audition finds this movie-star-handsome man going out for the same role that people with unconventional features seem ideally suited to play.

Whereas the cultural conversation can be suffocatingly one-sided on these issues, Schimberg invites all perspectives in a movie that risks offending so-called political correctness. “A Different Man” finds room for both Stan and Pearson to play characters with the same physiognomy, and it takes the bold route of making both men insufferable in different ways. Oswald is charming and charismatic to a fault, insinuating himself into the stage role Guy hoped to play.

Meanwhile, Reinsve delivers on the promise of her “Worst Person” performance, playing another casually seductive young woman with a capacity to hurt the things she loves. Shortly after meeting Guy, Ingrid throws herself at the actor (who’s the same person he was before in all but the most superficial sense). Once she gets him in bed, Ingrid asks Guy to put on the mask, adding still more layers to the film’s most vulnerable scene. Things get a bit more confused as “A Different Man” enters its final stretch, effectively testing the limits of Stan’s acting ability — whereas no one but Pearson could have played the doppelganger smiling him in the face.'

[crystalninjaphoenix]

What if...Septic Movies?

I know I’m not the first one to imagine what if the Septics had their own movie(s), but I have Ideas today. So like, what if the Septics had their own series of movies, but each one starred a different one, and seemed to be unrelated at all? Like, at first glance, they’re entirely different genres and the only thing connecting them is that the same actor is playing all the main characters. But then you actually watch the movies and you start to see a pattern...

JJ’s movie would be the first released just because...idk, it just seems fitting. It’d be about him trying to make it in the film industry while dealing with a lot of difficulties and obstacles. You know, one of those feel-good Hollywood movies where the Outcast does a Big Important thing Against All Odds.

By the end, most of the plot points are wrapped up, but over the course of the movie the main character starts to act stranger and stranger, and you think at first that it’s just because he’s facing a lot of stressful situations. But then the movie just ends, and after the credits you get a short clip, maybe they just tack on his Power Hour video to the end, maybe it’s something new, but you’re left with the same big question either way...what was that?

Jackie’s would come next, and it looks entirely different. His movie is one of those that plays on superheroes in the real world. You watch as Jackie slowly changes throughout the course of the movie from a nervous guy in a red hoodie and store-bought blue mask into a confident vigilante with his own suit and gadgets. The whole thing plays on comic book tropes and modern superhero movies, and it’s a great balance of comedy and drama.

And then you get to the very end, where you see Jackie monitoring crime on his computer, except the computer starts glitching out. Jackie looks excited, afraid, and confused, and the last thing you see before the credits role is a glitched-out face that almost seems to be looking at the audience.

Then you get to Marvin’s movie. This one falls into the magical realism genre. You know, those movies that have a Normal Guy discovering there is a Secret Magic World underneath the surface of the normal world? And he discovers he has powers? Normally these movies would have the main character be incredibly powerful and good and they defeat the bad guy, but that’s not who Marvin is. He’s not a hero, and the plot of the movie is more like Marvin tries to learn how to do cool shit while also trying to dodge the magical institutions that make the rules.

Still, there is a threat that’s being whispered about, and it’s nothing the magicians have seen before. Marvin ends up preventing something bad happening in the climax, but you get the sense that all is still not right...

Schneep’s movie would be next. It’s sort of like those dramatic doctor TV shows, except...it’s a movie, so the plot is shorter and simpler. It also sort of makes fun of those tropes, because Schneep isn’t one of those perfect all-the-viewers-admire-me main characters, he’s just Done and Sassy and Takes No Shit. It’s here that we start to see bits of the other movies tie in, as maybe Jackie shows up for a scene and Marvin has a small cameo in the background/props.

The stakes are gradually raised throughout the course of the movie as a lot of patients come into the O.R., and it’s unclear where all these wounds are coming from. Maybe you could even have a bit of a mystery going on. But the mystery is never solved, the movie just stops. It doesn’t even end, just stops. In fact, it’s almost suspicious how quickly it stops...if you watch it in the theater there’s an effect like the projector film is burning, and if you stream it online it’s like the film glitches out.

And there’s a small after credits scene, one that looks like it’s being filmed from a shaky handheld camera. The viewers are surprised when they get a short, cryptic message from Schneep, something about “him,” though he won’t say who. And then it cuts again, and you have no idea what happened.

By the time Chase’s movie rolls around, the people are suspicious, and they’re sure that something bad’s going to happen. Which is why it’s almost jarring when Chase’s movie is absolutely normal. It follows the life of this family as the two parents start to have difficulties, and eventually fall apart and divorce. It’s pretty dramatic, and it takes everything very seriously, including Chase’s depression and suicide attempt. But it has a positive ending, and an overall good message about how things get better eventually.

The characters we know from the past show up often as the supporting cast, and nobody seems to find it weird that they all look the same but aren’t related. And we’re introduced to another identical character, who goes by the name of Jack. He’s Chase’s best friend! The audience is constantly on edge by this point, waiting for something strange to happen, and they stay through the credits just in case, but nothing does happen.

Until the next movie.

Suddenly, the audience starts to get explanations. This one focuses on Jack, and it’s a horror flick. It’s not advertised as such, but the trailers and posters are very vague, and the rating doesn’t allow kids. And when you watch it, you see why. The plot follows the character Jack as he’s stalked and haunted by this...ghost? Demon? It’s unclear. At first he’s just in the background and Jack doesn’t even seem to notice when the film glitches. But as the movie goes on, he starts to notice him. Things get intense and vivid, very realistic nightmares and hallucinations, and all the characters are concerned about Jack. Until it all culminates on Halloween night, when Jack slits his own throat and seems to die.

And for a moment, the audience is stunned. It holds on this shot for a while of Jack’s body, until the film suddenly breaks. And you see him. He introduces himself as Anti, and he laughs and mocks the audience for watching, for feeding into his essence with their drive and speculation and never doing anything to help the characters they supposedly love so much. And the film ends with a single chilling statement...“Say goodbye.”

And you think that’s it. You think that’s the end, even though there are still plot points to connect and threads left loose. Until another series of movies are announced. And you realize that this was all just Phase One. ;)

[aion-rsa]

What Went Wrong With Dwayne Johnson’s Doom Movie?

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When Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson took to the stage at the Amway Arena in Orlando, Florida on March 29, 2008, few could have predicted what would come next.    

The budding action star was there to induct his father and grandfather into the WWE Hall of Fame, however, at times, his speech felt more like an impromptu comedy roast.    

“There was big controversy with the WWE and illegal torture,” one convoluted gag began. “Apparently they would find Iraqi insurgents, tie them up and make them watch DVD copies of The Marine.”    

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John Cena, who starred in The Marine, was in the audience that night and took the ribbing in good humor, with his exaggerated on-camera reaction spawning what would come to be known as the “John Cena oh s**t gif”.  

Johnson wasn’t finished though.  

“By the way I made Doom. Did you ever see Doom? Well, you probably didn’t and it’s okay because nobody else did either.”    

Cue laughter.   

Nearly three years on from its release, The Rock could finally laugh about Doom. No one had been laughing when the film first debuted in October 2005 to rank reviews and a poor box office return. 

Film critic Richard Roeper was among those to tear into the film.  

“The performances are awful, the action sequences are impossible to follow, the violence is gratuitous, the lighting is bad and I have my doubts that the catering truck was even up to snuff.”   

He had a point.   

Largely filmed in a series of identical-looking and poorly lit corridors of a generic space station, Doom had the look and feel of a bad Alien knock-off.  Worse still, it bore almost no resemblance to the source material.  

Johnson may be the biggest film star in the world today but back then he was still just another wrestler trying to make the leap into movies. In truth, he was fortunate that Doom didn’t torpedo his chances in the way countless misfiring movies had for other aspiring wrestlers-turned-actors.  

So where did it all go wrong?  

Arnold Schwarzenegger and ILM

Film adaptations of popular video games are famously fraught with difficulties.   

You could probably count the number of good video game movies on one finger – Paul W.S. Anderson’s Mortal Kombat, before you ask.    

But id Software, the developers behind the pioneering Doom franchise, had been hopeful of bucking the trend back in 1994 when Universal first purchased the film rights.   

“I think Doom would be easier to write a script for than, say, Street Fighter,” business manager and co-owner Jay Wilbur told PC Gamer.   

Wilbur’s vision for the movie certainly sounded appealing.   

“I see Arnold Schwarzenegger with all the Doom garb on, Industrial Light & Magic supplying the special effects and the story would be something along the lines of Arnie stationed on Mars when the dimensional gateway opens up and demons flood in…So everybody’s dead – well maybe not everybody, you need a little human interaction and comic relief going on. But mainly, just non-stop seat-of-your-pants sweat-of-your-brow action.”   

Fusing elements of Commando, Total Recall, and the later Arnie effort End of Days, Wilbur’s sketch of a Doom movie sounded perfect – but there were issues from the start.  

According to former CEO Todd Hollenshead, several potential scripts were vetoed by id Software for failing to stay true to the source material.  While Schwarzenegger was approached, plans for the project were ultimately shelved in the wake of the Columbine High School massacre and negative press it generated around the game.   

Doomed Casting

It would be almost a decade before interest in a movie version would be rekindled by producers Lorenzo di Bonaventura and John Wells, who obtained the rights after footage from Doom 3 was shopped to agents from Creative Artists Agency.   

Di Bonaventura enlisted David Callaham, then a novice writer in Hollywood, to pen a script based loosely on a handful of ideas he had pitched during a chance meeting.   

Schwarzenegger, by then, was not only significantly older but also busy as Governor of California. Alternatives were explored. One rumor, neither confirmed nor denied, suggests Vin Diesel was in the frame to star. Ultimately, however, it was Johnson who ended up landing top billing.   

Not that anyone was complaining. Johnson was largely a B-movie star up until that point, making Doom a good fit to potentially take him into the big leagues. There was just one problem though – The Rock didn’t want to play the good guy.   

Producers had originally slated the WWE star to play the film’s main protagonist, Staff Sgt. John “Reaper” Grimm. Johnson had other ideas, though.   

“When I first read the script, and read it for [the part of] John, after I read it I thought wow John is a great character and, of course, the hero of the movie,” Johnson explained at the 2005 San Diego Comic-Con.  “But for some reason I was drawn more to Sarge, I thought Sarge was, to me, more interesting and had a darker side.”   

He agreed to star but only in the role of Sarge, leader of the film’s Rapid Response Tactical Squad sent to Mars and someone who ends up becoming the principal villain.   

Karl Urban, fresh from featuring in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, was cast in his place in what represented the first major misstep.  

Watching the film back now, it’s tempting to wonder whether Doom might have fared better had the two switched roles.  

After all, Johnson has carved a sizeable niche as an all-American good guy in the years since, while roles in Dredd and The Boys highlighted a darker streak to Urban’s repertoire.  

It’s certainly something Wesley Strick, who served as script doctor and ultimately co-writer on the film, concurs with when the notion is put to him.  

“That would work better,” he tells Den of Geek.  “I think you are onto something there. The swap was his idea though and this is all with hindsight.”   

Blame Superman

An experienced screenwriter with credits on Arachnophobia and Martin Scorsese’s Cape Fear, Strick ended up working on Doom as an indirect result of Tim Burton’s failed Superman movie.   

“Lorenzo [di Bonaventura] was head of production at Warner Bros when Tim Burton asked me to come onboard for Superman Lives,” Strick explains.    

“Tim and I and Nicolas Cage cooked up this whole scenario for a Superman movie and we would often walk into Lorenzo’s office to do battle with him, essentially, because he was stubbornly opposed to almost every idea we had,” Strick says. “Consequently, Lorenzo and I really butted heads and sometimes it could get quite ugly…I felt like I might have burned my bridges.”

With Superman years in the past, di Bonaventura called Strick to gauge his interest about working on Doom.

“I really wasn’t interested,” Strick says. “Just because I knew nothing about the game. But I have two sons and they were teenagers so there was a lot of enthusiasm from them. They told me to look into it and were excited about the idea of their dad working on this video game movie. Any project you can do where your kids are involved and excited is fun. So that appealed to me.”   

Strick was also sold on the film’s director, an exciting young Irish filmmaker called Enda McCallion. McCallion had made his name with a series of striking TV adverts (the Metz alcopop ‘Judderman’ campaign) and music videos for the likes of Nine Inch Nails.  

He was being tipped to follow in the footsteps of filmmakers like Jonathan Glazer by transitioning into features.   

“Enda was this up-and-coming new Irish director who was hyped to me as a visionary and someone who was going to bring something very original to the movie. It wasn’t going to just be this piece of product.”   

Big picture stuff

Strick was tasked with simplifying Callaham’s script to ensure it translated into a workable schedule and, crucially, that it could be made within a modest budget of $60–70 million. That meant cuts.  

“The producers looked at it and tried to put together a schedule and realized it was too complicated,” Strick says. “So, I read it and came up with a simple solution. In Callaham’s draft the marines kept going back and forth through this portal. Three times or something. It was unnecessary. They would go over there and then chase back and then regroup and then return to Mars or whatever. I said no, do it once and be done with it. I also had a list of a couple of monsters I thought the movie could do without.”   

The decision to cut several monsters familiar to Doom enthusiasts was a contentious one among fans, with Callaham’s original script featuring both the Cacodemon and Arch-Vile among others. Strick had been through this kind of process before though.   

“This is sort of the big picture stuff,” he says. “You can get a lot of shit from fans when they feel like you are trespassing on their genre and I think that happened to an extent on Doom. People were like ‘how dare you’.”   

He cites his experience on Batman Returns as an example of when the fanboys miss the point.   

“I hadn’t read a comic book since I was 12 and I loved them but I was 37 then,” he says. “Way past comic book age. In my mind, that’s okay because you’re trying to write a movie, not a comic book. You don’t want a comic book fanatic on a job like that – what would they bring to the movie?”   

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Despite ringing the changes, one sequence Strick was determined to retain from Callaham’s script was the five-minute first-person shooter sequence.  

“That was one bit I wanted to keep in no matter what. It was just funny. It had a great attitude and visually it was just delightful. If anyone ever proposed cutting it, I would argue strenuously against that. It was a great idea. Real, in your face.”   

All Change

By the time filming commenced in Prague in the winter of 2004, however, Strick found himself working on a very different film. McCallion had departed the project for reasons unknown. He didn’t respond to our request for an interview.   

In his place came Andrzej Bartkowiak, a seasoned cinematographer who had recently branched out into directing in the early 2000s, helming a trio of Jet Li action movies.   

“I was deeply disappointed when Enda left the project,” Strick admits. “It became the thing that I was assured of at the beginning it wouldn’t be. A more conventional approach to a movie like that. I don’t know what kind of movie Enda would have made but at least there was the possibility with him that it was going to be something special.”   

Strick was also having to contend with issues elsewhere.  

“When Doom moved to Universal, a guy called Greg Silverman became my executive on the project and he didn’t like me. He just always gave me shit,” Strick says. “Once he told me everything I had portrayed about the marines and their tactics was inauthentic. He wanted real, genuine, marine combat tactics.  I went back and did loads of research, read books like Jarhead, and really immersed myself in the whole marine mindset. I did a rewrite where I fixed all of the combat stuff, so it was genuine US marine combat protocol. And he hated it. I tried to explain that was exactly what was happening in Iraq, but he was just like ‘nah’. So we ended up going back to the fake stuff.”   ​

It’s an anecdote that hints at that dreaded but all too familiar issue on disjointed projects of this kind – studio interference – and Strick wasn’t the only one experiencing frustration. In the run-up to the film’s release, his co-writer Callaham had begun interacting with angry Doom fans online, who had heard rumors of the film taking liberties with the source material.   

Writing in a lengthy open letter defending his screenplay, the young writer managed to make things worse.    

“Let me assure you…, that the themes and elements that you love about Doom are ALL represented strongly in the film…just with some new twists,” he wrote.   

Few were convinced, however, particularly after he went on to claim he had watched a “bunch of strangers bastardize” his original vision of the film.   

Strick has some sympathy.   

“As soon as you engage in a fight on the internet, you’ve lost. I don’t think Dave realized that until it happened, but he got the shit kicked out of him by Doom fans. He was determined to defend himself and his movie against all comers and they just kicked him around. But he got back up and got moving again.”   

Callaham certainly did that, going on to pen The Expendables and, most recently, Wonder Woman 1984.  

Strick remains philosophical about his experience on Doom and still has cherished memories of taking his sons to the premiere [“they were in awe of The Rock” ].   

Positives and Negatives

“I thought the film was pretty good. Particularly in the sequence where it becomes like the video game. It’s the one great thing in the movie. Ironically, it’s a movie but it’s at its best when it devolves into pure video game action.”   

Bartkowiak took the brunt of the criticism for the film’s visual issues – visual effects wiz Jon Farhat took charge of the much-lauded first-person shooter sequence.  

Things would get even worse for the experienced cinematographer-turned-director a few years later with his next film, Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li, which pulled off the ignominious feat of being an even worse video game movie.  

Johnson rode the storm though, eventually hitting A-lister pay dirt with 2011’s Fast Five – a movie that breathed new life into his career and the Fast & Furious franchise as a whole.  

Today, Johnson is able to laugh about Doom, recently claiming its failure was the result of a “video game curse” he successfully broke with Rampage. The jury is still out on that one.   

With a different director, more ambitious budget and the right stars in the right roles, Doom could well have ended up being a great video game movie – but Strick thinks making a truly great video game movie “is next to impossible.”  

It’s about narrative,” he explains. “In a movie, we’re taking you for a ride whereas in a video game you are in the driving seat. So they are two conflicting and competing ideas for what makes a story engaging. Sit back, relax, we’re going to entertain you versus you’re immersed in an environment that you control. I don’t know where you find the center for that where the two opposing ideas co-exist. That’s possibly why the video game sequence is so good. It took on that paradox. You’re watching a video game movie that’s a simulation. It’s a kind of reminder of what the movie could never be.”   

The post What Went Wrong With Dwayne Johnson’s Doom Movie? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[rdc-breeze-blog]

‘By detailed analysis of one exploitation film of your choice and with reference to film and theory discussed during the lecture/seminar, examine how that text may either reinforce or challenge social, political, cultural, and/or sexual boundaries for its audience.’

We often reference the tantalising ‘Magic of the movies’, the unbelievable ability of the filmic medium to transport an audience into another world. We also commend a films ability to document what is going on around the world, albeit in another country or right on our doorstep, however whenever we look at film as an art form we often miss the point; audiences tend to scrutinize the entertainment factors alone, praising or criticizing the visuals over anything else and this leads them to sometimes miss the point.

Scholars from all platforms of studies associated with film have delved into a plethora of relationships and theories between film and how Social, Political, Cultural and Sexual boundaries within them are recognized and examined by its audiences. The time between the 20th century and now, Hollywood films and entertainers alike within the industry have been greatly shaped by these ideologies and in that, have greatly shaped the ideologies themselves. Films that have developed a cult following have especially impacted national politics, inveigled cultural identities and have even affected social change as well.

The Breakfast Club is a beautifully simple film directed by John Hughes (1984), about a group of individuals who at first don’t recognise their similarities, but as they’re forced to reconcile with each other through detention on a Saturday, they soon realise they have much more in common than they originally thought. The film perfectly illustrates how a film text can develop a relationship between the audiences and how they interpret these commonly used themes in films today. By breaking down the film into digestible aspects, even if definitions of these ideologies vary, this essay will examine how The Breakfast Club specifically has constructed each scene to cast an either reinforced or challenged nature to the cultural, social, political and sexual boundaries faced by the audience.

 The Breakfast Club throughout reinforces the cultural values of idealism, family and most importantly, fear. During the groups’ meltdown towards the end of the film where they slowly connect through common social denominators, Brian (Anthony Michael Hall), states: “I see me, and I don’t like what I see”. Idealism plays a fundamental role in the forthcoming of this film; each character seemingly takes on their own internal struggle with a need to be successful in the eyes of their guardians- whether that is their parents or peers. The interesting aspect of this boundary given to the audience is that each character has their own view on ‘success’, whether it is athletic, social, academic or simply personal achievement, however, they all share that same desire nonetheless. As the story prevails we come to understand that each character finds themselves undergoing drastic measures to ensure they fit into this category of successfulness, this can be seen when Brian attempts to commit suicide for failing to achieve an admirable grade in his physics class. This cultural theme of idealism and family is sometimes hard to interpret, but its something any audience member can relate to. Because of the variety of different struggles we’re met within the film, this offers an insight into the different versions of cultural idealism, especially within a ‘family’ environment. Everyone has their own personal family life, daily routines and family niggles only they would understand, John Hughes has taken the primary classes found in most cultures and portrayed them through five very different but very similar characters. This helps the audience deduct that people of all ethnicity have a lot more akin than they think; in terms of understanding how this reinforces cultural boundaries through film text, this is a really simple but easily recognised piece formed by John Hughes. Moreover, the way each character acts is a fair reflection of the worry they have of their parents or peers view on them. This is part of the reason each character isolates him or herself to a specified stereotype.

 “Teens are always shown as one dimensional. They're stereotyped. When I was in high school, I cared about more than getting a date or making the team.” (Jared Leto, Hollywood actor) [1] The stereotypes in The Breakfast Club are comfortably noticeable in the characters and their social groups. The main premise of the film plays on these stereotypes and how they evolve as the film pans out; the breakdown of five very contrasting character clique’s within an abstract but controlled social environment is John Hughes’ methodology to show how in a world where we’re bound to our class systems, we’re all very much alike when stripped back to bones and flesh. These stereotypes are conveyed purposefully through the clothes they wear and the way they act and represent how the members of the Breakfast Club see one another from the onset of the film. By analysing each character, we can begin to realize how gender is portrayed and make additional connections to how this further reinforces a cultural and social boundary to the audience. The two main girls in the plot, Allison (Ally Sheedy), ‘the Basket Case’ and Claire (Molly Ringwald), ‘the Princess’, represent the constitutional typical and atypical female role. Claire is essentially a somewhat hackneyed portrayal of what a person thinks when the word female is discussed. She is the cliché pretty, well-spoken, sharp and thin idealism we consider a female should be and in addition to this, she is clothed in the colour that symbolises feminism; pink. Claire is the main contributor to emotions being brought up during the film, this instantly brings to the audiences attention how women cope compared to men. Male roles rarely want to bring up feelings because it may downgrade their masculinity and furthermore, may contrast too highly against their stereotypical role as a ‘leader’. In comparison to Claire, following the same political boundaries of the cliché proposed to the audience, Allison is the binary opposite of what someone would consider ‘a typical female’. She is distance, very aloof wearing nearly all black baggy clothing that screams borderline Goth. Whereas Claire is very much aware of herself and what she provides as an entity, Allison is almost unsure of herself and this can be seen as the film progresses. When everyone starts to develop a connection between one another, during one scene Claire takes Allison to another room for a makeover. During this scene Claire makes a passing comment about how Allison looks better “without all of that black shit around your eye.” Claire insinuates this is out of kindness but there is argument that there is another motive behind the comment; to Claire, Allison’s attire is not normal and so she may be trying to change it. This shows how instead of accepting Allison’s appearance, Claire’s initial reaction is to try and mold Allison’s ego into something else; audiences can depict from this the obvious political boundary cast between the lines that the main western societies have, and will, always try to shape the way people think. This is a common occurrence across many different mediums and can be seen again through the analysis of the other side of gender within The Breakfast club.

 Andrew (Emilio Estevez), ‘The Athlete’, Brian (Anthony Michael Hall), ‘The Brain’ and Bender (Judd Nelson), ��The Criminal’ within short notice have tension that promptly sparks the argument over masculinity within the stereotypes. Andrew, the athlete, is very proud; he follows the typical conventions you would find with sportsmen being punctual and focused. This clashes instantly with the other two characters Brian and Bender. Brian is the typical ‘nerd’- high waisted jeans, nutritious lunch and a seemingly normal home life. Bender on the other hand plays out the loose canon, has no respect for anything or anyone and abides by the rules he sets himself. Because of Andrew’s sporting attire being tights Bender, and Brian, who seems to be only joining in out of interest and to gain Bender’s respect, begin to mock Andrew. This is an obvious example how political classes show a level of hierarchy even within adolescents at a high school, which loosely relates to the discussion of masculinity and the sense of belonging. Andrew becomes visibly upset with the remarks and as a result attempts to insult Bender back calling him a “faggot”, this shows us the mentality that men need to be strong and cannot admit any weakness. This is demonstrated throughout the film, Bender has his own issues as his home life is bad. We learn this within the plot and gives reason to why Bender attacks the other characters in a senseless appeal for attention and a typical defense mechanism. Personally I feel that Bender is in fact defeated inside and he plays on the criminal character to ensue an appearance of masculinity, because if he were to be open with his feelings and act accordingly this status would quickly diminish.

However, Brian on the other hand greatly challenges the political and social boundary presented to the audience through stereotypes. Brian, through his indecisive and contingent nature portrays gender concern. For example, Brian tells the group he “feels stupid” for failing class which led him to attempt suicide. Brian looks at himself as someone who is relatively smart and by failing class and losing his mentality enough to try and commit suicide, he doesn’t display the characteristics of the typical male role. This is abnormal for a leading male role and helps audiences relate to a character not commonly seen within films.

Brian is essentially the only stereotype that does challenge these boundaries and common themes, Andrew and Bender always portray the typical gender role and show us how important masculinity is within film and the connection it has with it’s audiences.

Dramatic representations of reality are created effortlessly through the use of camera angles in The Breakfast Club. This media tool is exercised so simply within the film and as a result perfectly portrays the reinforcement of the political education system that is still apparent today. The majority of the film is located within the library, being that this is one location it is easy to identify the changes in camera angles that pursue a deeper meaning. This can be shown when Vernon (Paul Gleason), the head teacher, is talking to the students and the over the shoulder shot used, is aimed down towards them. This straight away establishes an authoritative status in regards to Vernon and implies to the audience that the students are of a lower superiority: they’re inferior. This can be further evidenced when the shot changes to a medium close up of the students sat around their desks, the shot is now eye line with the students supposing they’re all equal- despite their social standings.

This is really cleverly done because we’re left with this contradictory view that the students are equal in comparison to their head teacher, who is superior, but they’re not equal between themselves. The basic switch in degree level between the two shots creates a comparative boundary between social and political standings of the students. In school they’re simply students like everyone else but between them they’re an athlete, a criminal, a princess, a basket case and a brain; a cliché in their own social environment. This theme is continued throughout the film and highlights easily how The Breakfast Club mainly reinforces the political, social and sometimes cultural boundaries between the audience and it’s text.  

 Another way The Breakfast Club reinforces social boundaries to the audience is approaching the subject of an ego trip and within that, overcoming the need to be liked. This is subtly done through the use of their non-diegetic sound; Brian’s speech at the end of the film nicely rounds up this idealism however the soundtrack to the film ‘Don’t You Forget About Me – Simple Minds’, is a perfect use of the media tool sound to propose this boundary. The soundtrack, “which at first was refused, but later agreed to be recorded after encouragement from their label”[2] could have never featured given it was refused another 3 times as well before Simple Minds decided to take it on. It’s hard to think that such a monumental film track and a key tool in The Breakfast Club’s attempt to portray social boundaries may never have seen the big screen had it not been for forced measures by the label. The song features two prominent lyrics that concrete the theme of egotism and the inkling to overcome this need: “Don’t you forget about me” and “As you walk on by, will you call me name?”

In terms of the films text, these lyrics refer to the world outside of detention and the so called ‘Breakfast Club”; there is a question about the future and whether or not the unforeseen friendships will last or be crippled by the social groups at high school. The song lyrics perfectly coincide with ongoing conventions of the film, whether or not the different social categories will eventually let their guard down in order to realise they are not so contrasting after all. This is used so effortlessly it’s certain that meaning behind the lyrics may go amiss, the soundtrack is played only twice during the film, once at the start and once at the end; at the start the song is used to foreshadow possibilities that may emerge later in the film but this could never be registered by the audience. However, John Hughes introduces the song again at the end alongside the famous snapshot of Bender punching the air; this ties the song lyrics and the relationships built between the students together during the film, leaving the audience to ponder over the social boundary proposed as the film closes. This type of mickey-mousing style sound production can also be seen in the opening of Milded Pierce (USA 1945: Michael Curtiz) where the soundtrack is used similarly to echo both the camera and character movements. The soundtrack in Milded Pierce follows the same structure of use as The Breakfast Club; the soundtrack also taps into the emotional turmoil of the characters and whether that is obvious to the audience or not the notion is still operating. In some ways the soundtrack to The Breakfast Club even shows signs of leitmotif as well, given that it is used twice during the film but for different reasons. This can be more famously recognised when used in a movie like Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark (Steven Spielberg), where the music composed by John Williams uses leitmotif all through the plot, the theme song is used at different conjunctions in the film at a different pace to insight multiple meanings.

 The most obvious example of how this film text reinforces a boundary to the audience is perhaps the Bender and Claire harassment/romance dynamic. Bender gets some of the films’ most famous and memorable lines, his constant obnoxious pestering of the students and staff, especially Claire, brings a certain character to the film’s plot. However, the provocateur himself alternates between being a smart arse towards Claire and indulging his genuine anger and this balance of identities shows us the common sexual themes present in everyday life. Through Bender, John Hughes displays how adolescents can often assign themselves a role like ‘abusive asshole’ to a private context they wouldn’t necessarily get away with in the adult world. It’s a disturbing subject but totally authentic and easily relatable for the audience. “You couldn’t ignore me if you tried” and “slip the hot beef injection” are but two of Bender’s crude comments made towards Claire. This narrative evidences how sometimes teenagers will say or act out of character to obtain a reaction from someone, but this would be painstakingly unacceptable outside of the adolescent margins they find themselves in. Claire, the wealthy popular princess is socially the polar opposite to Bender’s domestic doomsday life. Her social belonging represents everything he never got a chance to experience; the “importance on belonging, on being included, and on being part of a group; group affiliation not only supplies emotional security, but also is a source of status and reputation with motivational properties” [3] and not having these motivational properties is the main target for the effects of his fiercest rage. The hate and prejudice alongside the contrasting un-surfaced romance between the pair coins the foundations for her to be guilt-tripped into asking him out at the end of the film; a clear indication of how the plot and narrative reinforce this most basic sexual boundary to the audience. The Bender/Claire dynamic also touches up on the ingrained misogynistic attitudes in our world today, something that does not seem to have developed enough since the onset of the film in 1985.  Bender is always shown to be in control in his relationship with Claire, he manipulates her into bringing down her barriers and uses this to insight the opinion he wanted of himself from her. During the film Bender persuades Claire to show her secret talent, upon completion he then proceeds to clap longer than the rest of the group and adds: “wow Claire, my image of you is totally blow” sarcastically. This, considering the group has only just gone through some degree of team bonding, shows the total lack of respect men typically show women or have done in the past both sexually and socially.

 Upon analysis, The Breakfast Club as a whole both reinforces and challenges social, political, cultural and sexual boundaries given to the audience. More so reinforcing these boundaries, the film touches a lot of conventions that have been heavily discussed across the years; approaching the subjects of idealism, egotism, growing up, love, family and fear through easily recognisable adolescents, the audience is met with a background of intergenerational conflict. However, in hindsight the film appears to pose a very broad question that’s only surfaced due to the aforementioned analysis: Who are you?

For adolescents especially, who’s primarily the target audience, this is perhaps the most important dynamic active in their lives, bearing everything from sense of self to stereotypes to awareness of their future. John Hughes most definitely knew this; he’s manipulated a very simple film plot to create a vast spectrum of boundaries to the audience. The Breakfast Club takes five cliché’s, puts them into a controlled environment and watches as political rebellion, social integration and cultural participation ensue following the collapse of the characters inner ego. From Bender’s ‘done it all’ demeanor to Claire’s Disney World virginity, we come to terms with the “enduring faith that the future of our world rests with the young, and so we look to this period of life more than any other for an evaluation of current society and the probable social future." [4] The audience are faced with a plethora of real world themes that they are then forced to consider through the carefully selected mise en scene, sound, camera angles and what I think to be the most important: narrative. At first, the film appeared to be testament to the famous journey of becoming an adult and facing the pressures all adolescents find themselves in within when being a part a social hierarchy, however, on reflection the film represents a couple hours of self-contained rebellion, an expansion rather than a breaking of boundaries.

          [1] Jared Leto, Hollywood Actor

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/339884-teens-are-always-shown-as-one-dimensional-they-re-stereotyped-when

 [2] Wikipedia fact

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Don%27t_You_(Forget_About_Me)

 [3] Quote taken from research page (Cotterell 1).

http://xroads.virginia.edu/~class/am483_97/projects/coe/adolescents.html

 [4] Guarino, A., & Ianni, A. (2010). Social learning with local interactions. (pp. 1-26). (Discussion Papers in Economics and Econometrics; No. 1011). University of Southampton.

https://www.southampton.ac.uk/economics/about/staff/ianni.page#publications

   Filmography:

-indiana Jones: raiders of the lost ark

-Milded Pierce

-The Breakfast Club