andrew.pilsch.com

First, I want to apologize for referencing that godawful Ben Folds Five song in the title. Thankfully, the film I’m about to hyperbolically discuss does not (but it does play “Sister Ray” over the closing credits. Totally awesome).

I just watched Rian Johnson’s 2005 film, “Brick”. Let me just that it is totally awesome (could I make a movie rating scale that works like that? “totally awesome,” “awesome,” “meh,” “not so awesome,” “fucking terrible”. I think this has potential). The film, in case you are not aware of it, is a film noir set in a modern, southern Californian high school. To suggest that the film is set in a high school is not to suggest that the film is something like “Bugsy Malone” (in other words, it isn’t “cute” or “obvious”). The film is also, I would suggest, not a neo-noir (at least, other than in the sense that it wasn’t made in the 1940s (of course, neither were “Touch of Evil” or “Kiss Me Deadly”)). Neo-noir seems to suggest some sort of reevaluation of noir or something of a diminished noir (since “noir” is a mood and not a genre). So, when I say that “Brick” is a noir set in a high school, I don’t mean to suggest that it deploys noir in an ironic fashion or uses it to fulfill some functional nostalgia, the film is noir. Set in a high school.

Perhaps, I’m not making myself clear enough. Or, more likely, it doesn’t matter at all. The film follows a guy named Brendan trying to figure out who done wrong by his woman. That’s it. Of course, what’s so suggestive about the film is the way the classic hard-boiled dialog flows out of the mouths of kids who have no business being this bummed and smart (which may be the “deeper meaning” of the film). At a party that Brendan visits, the “cool” kids recite Beat poetry over atonal piano jazz. If people like this had existed, I would have had more friends in high school. Anyway, the thing that’s truly shocking about this film is the lack of an adult presence within all the ennui and dissipation commonly associated with noir. The only two adults are largely ineffectual and represent an adult world that has lost control and relevance within the context of these individuals’ world. What is also striking is how complete the transportation of noir to American adolescence is within “Brick”.

At times, amongst all the tough-guy posturing, femme fatalles, and knife fights, one forgets this is an American high school (I think the director magnifies this by intentionally never filming the inside of the school. He merely has his characters orbit around the building, in parking lots, in fields, in halls, but never actually in class). At other times, Brendan and his partner, Brain, will discuss where someone eats lunch or Brendan will mention that he needs Brain to keep the VP (Vice Principal) off his back while he works on solving the case.

Overall, the film seems to offer a striking comparison to another largely ignored, recent American film, “Better Luck Tomorrow,” which similarly places teenagers in adult (criminal) contexts and paints a world in which adults are not present. Both films suggest a world of teenage rebellion that has no more limits, but does so in a way that refuses to reduce the characters to “juvenile delinquents.” Rather “Better Luck Tomorrow” and “Brick” offer high school students who have turned to adult patterns of violence and crime as a means of coping with a world that increasingly sees them as a threat.

In any case, “Brick” is the best American movie I’ve seen in a while (mostly because “Half Nelson” and “Old Joy” won’t hurry up and open in ATL before I head back North). One of the things that is so refreshing (aside from the reemergence of real noir (not “fake noir”)) about the film is the manner in which it is constructed. Rejecting the recent trend in pseudo-independent cinema towards over-using fancy editing and trick photography in order (one might suspect) to distract from less than satisfactory goings-on in front of the camera, “Brick” is able to make use of jump cuts, odd editing, fancy camera angles, and other “arty” devices in ways that actually contribute to the construction and rhythm of the narrative.

So, once again, I highly recommend “Brick.”