938 sex, lies, and videotape

Discuss releases by Criterion and the films on them. Threads may contain spoilers!
Message
Author
User avatar
The Narrator Returns
Joined: Tue Nov 15, 2011 6:35 pm

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#51 Post by The Narrator Returns » Fri Jul 20, 2018 1:52 pm

Soderbergh sez that the other image change was
SpoilerShow
fixing the date on one of Graham's videotapes so it isn't the same date he interviewed Ann
.

Werewolf by Night

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#52 Post by Werewolf by Night » Fri Jul 20, 2018 1:59 pm

SpoilerShow
What is the point of changing that window decal? It's barely legible in the first place. (I assume it's just some kind of parking pass or something?)

User avatar
PfR73
Joined: Sun Mar 27, 2005 6:07 pm

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#53 Post by PfR73 » Fri Jul 20, 2018 3:12 pm

The Narrator Returns wrote:
Fri Jul 20, 2018 1:52 pm
Soderbergh sez that the other image change was
SpoilerShow
fixing the date on one of Graham's videotapes so it isn't the same date he interviewed Ann
Ahh, I see it now
SpoilerShow
The film originally had the same date (22 Aug 88) on both Cynthia's & Ann's tapes, even though the film clearly shows they do not record them on the same day. Now Ann's tape is from the day after Cynthia's (23 Aug 88)
Image
Image
Werewolf by Night wrote:
Fri Jul 20, 2018 1:59 pm
SpoilerShow
What is the point of changing that window decal? It's barely legible in the first place. (I assume it's just some kind of parking pass or something?)
SpoilerShow
Not sure, the unaltered pass shows it's from Kenner, Louisiana. Maybe Soderbergh either considered that a continuity error (since the film was mainly shot in Baton Rouge, while Kenner is outside of New Orleans); or maybe because Soderbergh didn't want any specificity about the setting (I don't recall any other explicit references to where the film is taking place if you don't recognize the locations)

EDIT: Found the new interview referenced a couple times on the forum today (regarding the other change & UHD/HDR). Soderbergh states "We did two minor visual things; one was something that had always bugged me that was kind of, if not a mistake, certainly weird. Andie’s car was a rental car, and it had a sticker from a company in Kenner in Louisiana. It’s very prominent in the frame and it’s always bugged the shit out of me. So I finally asked, 'Can somebody take the word Kenner off of that decal, please, because it’s annoying.' The other fix was – and how we didn’t notice this on the day, and for decades after, I don’t know – when Peter Gallagher picks up the tape of Ann’s interview, there’s a tape next to it and it has the same date on it as Ann’s tape. Larry caught that one. He said, 'Uh, unless I’m missing something, I don’t think Graham did two interviews that day.' And I said, 'No, he didn’t.' So that was the other one that we fixed."

jojo
Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2008 1:47 pm

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#54 Post by jojo » Sun Jul 22, 2018 8:19 pm

I'd say don't throw away your old blu-ray copy if you have it, but the new Criterion is well worth getting if you love this film like I do. At the very least the extras on the Criterion make it worth a rental.

User avatar
colinr0380
Joined: Mon Nov 08, 2004 4:30 pm
Location: Chapel-en-le-Frith, Derbyshire, UK

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#55 Post by colinr0380 » Sat Apr 27, 2019 6:19 am

The VHS Video Vault YouTube channel has made a great upload of Barry Norman's Guide To Cannes, which happens to be from the 1989 festival. Whilst the first two thirds of the programme are OK but a bit overly UK-centric (though it is really interesting to see Brummie comedian Lenny Henry at the height of his fame being pushed internationally. That did not really last long, especially after his single big theatrical bid for the US box office, 1992's True Identity, in which he apparently got the terrible advice to drop the Brummie accent for an atrocious faux American one, flopped disastrously. I mean who needs faux Eddie Murphy when Eddie Murphy already had that covered?), but the final section covers behind the scenes of the press interviews and premiere of Sex, Lies and Videotape.

User avatar
Ste
Joined: Wed Jan 11, 2006 9:54 pm

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#56 Post by Ste » Sun Jun 16, 2019 7:14 pm

With all apologies for the late response. I recently picked up the U.K. Criterion BD, so have only just gone through this thread.
Werewolf by Night wrote:
Fri Jul 20, 2018 1:59 pm
SpoilerShow
What is the point of changing that window decal? It's barely legible in the first place. (I assume it's just some kind of parking pass or something?)
As an ex-resident of Kenner, LA, I can confirm that this is a vehicle inspection sticker, known locally as a brake tag. Every year (or two years now), you go to a brake tag station where they make a cursory check of your brakes and lights, slap a sticker on the inside of your windscreen, and charge you for the privilege. It’s as much a local tax as it is a safety inspection, as the checks are a bit of a joke; they are nowhere near as comprehensive as the U.K. MOT checks.

Baton Rouge residents have to get their vehicles inspected in their own locale, so it wouldn’t be legal for a BR resident to have a Kenner brake tag. Soderbergh, of course, would be aware of this — hence his retroactive decision to erase the sticker’s details from the new film master.



User avatar
therewillbeblus
Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#59 Post by therewillbeblus » Sat Jul 17, 2021 2:04 am

As a warning, I'm going to use the words "superficial." "honest," and "intimacy" a lot in this writeup, because to me the central conceit of this film is in exploring the discord, yet binding relationship, between surface-level feelings, actions, philosophies, and tools, and their layered depths; specifically how intimate social participation inverts the superficialities into opportunities for growth into those depths.

The film begins as Ann expresses her concern with an acute 'garbage problem' to her therapist, after which he connects her malaise with an uneasiness about a lack of control and sense of powerlessness. In a lesser film, this would be a stirring revelation, but here it's ousted from the first scene and laid bare as insignificant compared to the abysses Soderbergh will traverse to dig into our enigmatic cores. Ann's response is not awe but, "Yeah..." and then, basically, 'So?' Her ability to comprehend issues with control is not a solution or epiphany but a superficial 'a-ha' grazing of her existential distress. She knows that there's 'more' to her anxieties, but as we'll see, a pattern is formed where we need others to help us liberate ourselves from our short-sighted solipsistic constraints- and not a client-therapist relationship in a rigid non-intimate power differential, but relationships of reciprocity that gives way to intimacy, and vice versa.

We actually get a taste of this immediately, or at least examples of our fatalistic narrowminded dead-ends in the absence of a considerate sparring partner to help us expand our minds and hearts. Ann can't justify being angry at her husband because of superficial reasons ("John pays the bills, it's his house.."), she defines her issues with her sister as based in their most peripheral differences in personalities ("She's an extrovert") rather than deep-seated history or essential dissonances in virtues (and, tellingly, the problem is sourced in 'othering', gently-blaming "she" statements, rather than acknowledging that Ann has a part in the fractured state of the relationship). Ann carries embarrassment around masturbation because she has not discovered its utility as valuable divorced from societal expectations, and is afraid of what she might find. She even says that happiness is bad because it leads to gaining weight, based on an isolated scenario that occurred in her marriage. When left as an exterior state attracting superficial desires to feed that happiness (food, sex.. soon to be videotape for another character), this is sourced in complacency, not investigative attention.

Fear and desire are the dominant drives under inspection here, as Soderbergh curiously investigates the spectrum between their slight and extensive functions, and how -as humans- we engage in self-destructive behaviors and maladaptive thought patterns in relation to each. Soderbergh doesn't connect these two ideas with any direct linkage though, for in the spirit of the film this would be disingenuous. Instead he perversely insinuates what none of us dare think: That our self-destructive habits and obstinate positions are actually the planted seeds that, if tended to, become enigmatic gateways into accessing our true potentials and vulnerabilities, igniting change; that a stance is capable of transitioning into its reciprocal position through the invaluable variable of interpersonal connection- the social piece as having the power to reframe our surrenders or apathies into inspiration and determined action.

Contradictions define these characters, particularly the 'superior' moral ones (Graham and Ann), who are only 'better' people because they are capable of engaging with their respective vulnerabilities and adjusting despite their own defective traits. Graham mining for honesty in another, bluntly asking Ann about her marriage from the first minute of conversation, while unable to face his own issue with honesty, may seem like a simplified hypocrisy. However, we understand a fundamental alteration here: That Graham consciously (or superficially) believes he's being honest with himself, and yet a subconscious (or deeper) part of him demands human interaction as the key to personal development via intimacy. So he asks these challenging questions, forces participation and discomfort, because he knows that he needs the same thing deep down, to ultimately challenge his own complacent shades and prompt psychological evolution.

I love the first confidential conversation between Graham and Ann at the cafe, that only opens up into a tone of cohesive energy through a willingness for two strangers to be transparent with one another, working through the innate discomfort that impedes attachment. Ann processes her understanding of the difference between women and men, and we can discern that there is no objective merit to her claim that sex is overrated, but that she has authority to subjectively diagnose sex as overrated within the definition of sex that she's familiar with, as filtered through a unidimensional schema. Graham states that his impotence doesn't bother him, and that he's not self-conscious about it, but something tells me that this is a facade rooted in a fear to be self-conscious, as that would inevitably warrant change. He has surrendered to an acceptance that is posturing at superiority with unconscious charade, using condescension as a defense mechanism just as he uses voyeurism as a distraction.

In spite of this, Graham believes he is firmly planted in reality with heightened perceptive abilities. His idea about therapy is a rigid rule that serves to protect him, and his definition of "intimacy" is as myopic as Ann's view of sex is- though they're talking about the same thing and having the same issue and they don't even know it! However, the conversation they have -even if sourced in closeminded attitudes or things each has "read" or formed through bias- is integral to change. By identifying the contradictions and various perspectives, this pair inspire a 'third way', or new definition, of intimacy- that is only possible through their interaction. Ann lays down the thesis for the film right at the end of their cafe conversation: That she doesn't know him intimately (per his definition of intimacy=sex), and thus by his own logic, shouldn't take his advice (to not take advice of those who one doesn't know intimately). The scene's power comes rushing forth at the end, as they both laugh collectively, energy passing between them, and in that moment they begin to foster shared intimacy, just a definition of intimacy that neither understands as such on a cerebral level.. yet.

It's not a coincidence that Graham and Ann are the characters in the most agony, who also gain the most through open-mindedness and mutual support, in a kind of "Newton's second law of motion"/yin-yang fashion; while John and Cynthia remain oblivious and guarded from their own confessional maturation, without the will to emerge from their surface-level safety nets, which would require movement towards extensive honesty. John and Cynthia aren’t able to access this because they aren’t magnetized to the fear or pain with the same sensitivity as Graham or Ann (though they very clearly are immensely afraid, hence why they cannot stomach venturing to these spaces), so they cannot grasp the gift of desperation spawned from oppressive forces - whether internal or externally provoked.

Let's start with John, the most vapid character in the film (and amusingly the principal who most resembles the Reagan-era pretense of the American Wet Dream, fitting a mechanically non-emotive, cocky, capitalist lifestyle, while the other characters as traditional outcasts are validated with unfiltered care)- but he's only destined to remain empty because of his resistance to tap into the potential every character has, as we will eventually witness Cynthia motion towards (if in body language only, but the kind that speaks a thousand words). John invites his college friend as a superficial gesture, to serve his own narcissistic identity as the steady, confident 'pal'. We get a strong indication from John's first mention of Graham - claiming that he's "lost" and that "we're very different now" - that his invitation has an ulterior motive propelled by his own ego. Once he's met the new version of his friend, who makes clear in his demeanor that he's (apparently) self-actualized and not in need of what John has to 'offer', John distances himself from Graham, and Ann relays this disengagement in the next scene. John keeps his priorities so shallow that this decision is not even important enough to let us watch occur on screen, while Soderbergh seems to give thorough interest to every other 'choice' about relationship dynamics these characters discuss.

Later on, John feels threatened by Ann making the tape with Graham, viewing her as 'his' property and becomes unjustly heated (after she breaks up with him) at the idea of her bearing her sexual secrets to another, while the divorce itself- or, you know, any feelings of 'love' for her- are secondary concerns. He just wants to watch the videotape, it's all he knows how to do: to use a superficial tool to access his wife's secretive thoughts, rather than just work up the courage to ask her. John has no concept of trust, and can only (or is only willing to) rely on objective forms of trust- for if he's not trustworthy, how can anyone else be? He thinks this will prove something, while Ann and Graham subconsciously know that one simple tool does not prove anything. What Ann and Graham profess as objective truths earlier in the cafe are only half-truths that need an objective, loving, human party to help complement into a whole truth. A videotape's objectivity does not provide that love, the necessary participatory element, to procure any semblance of meaningful truth.

Is John upset because the tape contains what he views as superficial records of intimacy, 'sex' for him being resigned to that shallow plane? Or is he upset because the idea of Ann exhibiting real intimacy on a record that he's excluded from is unbearable? It's noteworthy that John gets the exact information he needs to distract the secondary existential concern and focus back on the palpable, concrete former one, supporting his self-fulfilling prophecy. John then emerges with the secondary emotion of anger comfortably shielding the inconsolable abstract hurt he was potentially beginning to feel, and transfers that hurt onto Graham in the most blunt, aggressive manner: by admitting that he fucked his love in cold antipathy. However, this works perfectly within the ethos of the film, as even John's crass, antisocial intervention is able to spark an opportunity for Graham to reach a new layer of suffering and ultimately prompt him to change for the better. This also reflects John's own (inaccessible to him) emotional intelligence- that the reason he felt like offering a handout to Graham in the first place may not have only been sourced in pure egotism, but from guilt about his past transgressions, even if that remains too intolerable for him to ruminate on beyond checking a box to calm that minor voice itching the back of his immature conscience.

The reframing of fear (of getting caught in their affair) by John and Cynthia as a "perverse thrill" is born from resentment and amorality, intentionally superficial defense mechanisms that serve as a kind of devolution setting proactive fires to introspective potential. At first Cynthia aggressively enters Graham’s apartment to seduce him into granting her information on his secret, flaunting her confidence in comparison to Ann and to take another ‘something’ of her sister’s interest away- if only to achieve a hasty manifestation of fleeting catharsis. She then appears to become the subject of his work to have a surface-level ‘experience’, not to actually engage with the practice on an intimate level. However, we quickly notice Cynthia's authenticity in her interview with Graham, discovering a newfound sense of freedom as she dictates the nostalgic innocence of early sexual experiences. This excites her, but it also leaves her feeling vulnerable for what seems to be the first time in ages.

Laura San Giacomo is excellent in this film, selling a character who is far more complex than she is on the scripted page, solely through subtle nonverbal communications. We get the impression that this moment with Graham induces a spiritual experience for her, albeit an uncomfortable one; her face looking back at Graham as she exits his house is one of only two moments in the film where she looks humbled, disempowered, and wears the face of a person whose mind is open to evolve in foreign terrain. That she immediately suppresses this maturation through superficial physical sex with John proposes that she views this weakening of defense mechanisms as a weakness, and in reverse-sublimation she empowers herself with her seasoned armor of confident sexuality, misinterpreting what could have been true empowerment as a threat to her frosty identity. Though in step with the film's philosophy, she's leaving Graham's house to be alone with this newfound sense of self; Graham is too aloof and alienating at this point of the narrative to be more than a tool to help her unlock it, unwilling to give much more by way of emotional support, and she sure as hell isn't going to get it from her sister or John. She'll have to wait until someone extends an olive branch. Or a literal plant.

The final gift of a plant from Ann to Cynthia at the bar, despite the sisterly deceit, demonstrates unconditional love, and we recognize that Cynthia has also been building up walls as a hurt person hurting someone else as a result. We see that Ann was playing a part in this dysfunctional dynamic by keeping the relationship at a superficial level, and we see both sisters feel an intimacy finally brewing between them. A horrible incident- the gift of despair- has allowed an opportunity to sprout. Cynthia's final smile is one of relief, of contentment. She can breathe again. She has a sister, one she didn't realize she had, or wanted, until now. In the final scenes of the film, John remains oblivious and immoral (he can't understand why his clients are dropping him.. too many long lunches maybe?) while Cynthia's new chapter of moral and emotional development is being seized to begin, significantly hinged on the participation of another devoted person who is helping her access her aptitude for empathic behavior. Cynthia's willingness is a symptom of interpersonal harmony. Similarly Cynthia's duplicity has helped initiate Ann's self-actualization.

This is a film that demands we look at all surface-level black-or-white actions, thoughts, and feelings, and see through them for the infinite possibilities of self-discovery and affinity that can flourish from taking this courageous route, adopting the grey profusion of compassion on our typically-binary moral platitude. That doesn't mean that we need to make everything complicated, quite the opposite: if we can reframe all dualist choices as avenues for growth that aren't on our societally-ingrained roadmaps, the skill to find the spiritual path becomes a lot easier than exhaustingly donning these articles of protective clothing every time we're triggered with unfamiliar intrusions. To cement this idea, Soderbergh even throws us some nice on-the-nose symbolism with the offering of a plant from Ann to Cynthia. At the end of a film so dense in its refusal to succumb to unfairly streamlined convictions, how refreshing and thematically resonant to insert one right before the credits. Life can be simpler in practice, it just takes a lot of collaborative adult engagement to get to that point.

Graham's use of voyeurism as a diversion may not stimulate him in a superficially sexual area, but it does stimulate a similarly-trivial fantastical and self-indulgent idea about his relationship with Elizabeth, moving at the beat of his drum as the star of his own movie. This delusion leaves no chance for hope, but he can't admit this to himself, instead pedestaling the videotapes as a cursory project for Elizabeth, an inert agenda that Ann calls a spade. She declares his aim for closure and resolution on his terms a mirage, but the feeling he has, that Ann calls "pathetic", is subjectively honest with the information he has, until she assists him in delving deeper through conscientiously destroying his false truth. Graham's expectations and external focus is misinformed, and authored from fear of taking action, and peeling back the onion layers to practice acceptance on a new subjective beam of self-honesty is a gift inseparably sown to Ann's compassionate challenge.

Videotape is used in an attempt to tangibly capture ‘authentic’ experience, but through an inauthentic tool. Lies and sex are similarly superficial acts covering depth. People can be ‘themselves’ and open up with the barrier of an inanimate object serving as the tool disinhibiting them, rather than if Graham was staring them down across a coffee table. The ironies trigger opposing experiences, in how a superficial, inauthentic or inanimate barrier can merit deep, honest, and animate, or truthful, epiphanies. This is a self-reflexive film that dares to pay attention to our methodology of interventions to search for verity, whether in narrative art, collective communication, introspective seclusion, or any modality along the spectrum of superficial/intimate veracity. Sex, lies, and videotape are all apparatuses for superficial engagement, but they are also instruments capable of evoking bowels of truth.

So the film's candid titular terms are both actualities and bluffs. The film is not about only literal lies to others, but honesty with ourselves; nor only literal sex with others, but the connotations infidelity or nostalgia or kink have to affect us in nebulous emotional ways. The film is about how only through lies- be they framed as self-deceptions or targeted-proclamations- can we find raw truth; how only through peripherally engaging with sex- and all the complicated psychosocial consequences of these meditations- can we achieve earnest intimacy. John is the only character in the film who would laugh at this proposition and see the title at face value. The other three, by the film's end, have begun to understand that through the falsehoods we find what's real, through the pain we find love, through delusion we find our 'selves', and that through trying to do this alone- and failing- we find the aid we need from the right people.

The film ends with Ann stating, "I think it's gonna rain" as Graham laughs and says, "It is raining." It's a moment to be embraced, facing life in all its pain and glory together, their hands touching, intimacy cultivated. Ann says, "Yeah," as they both accept what's happening not as a supposition but as a circumstance that is real and shared- an objectivity two people can agree on, markedly for the first time in the film, and with a calm breeze of optimism that it's only the beginning of many more to come.

This film is incredibly prescient, and imperative, inspiration viewing in today's climate- where more and more people in the progressive spheres I find myself in issue closeminded judgments, declare fatalistic divides between groups, and expect the other person to 'go first' to fix issues at hand, whether in macro or micro conditions. This film reminds me that the mature stance lies in another option, one of warmth that begins with the willingness to reach out a hand and work through the pain together to develop a spiritual condition and find grace. I'm forever grateful for those hands that were unreservedly lent out to me when I couldn't see beyond my own fears, doubts, and insecurities; they were the only means by which I was able to work through my pain, and I didn't 'deserve' them on any basis outside of being a fellow human being. Ann’s ultimate gift of a plant to Cynthia is an article of unconditional forgiveness. That takes courage. sex, lies, and videotape demonstrates the courage to access maturity through harmonic action. This film is a prime example of how forms of engagement- from art to human interaction (or art about human interaction)- have the power to make us better people.

User avatar
John Cope
Joined: Thu Dec 15, 2005 5:40 pm
Location: where the simulacrum is true

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#60 Post by John Cope » Thu Jul 22, 2021 4:50 am

Excellent reflections, therewillbeblus. Thinking again today of how conflicted I am over the prospect of Soderbergh's proposed sex, lies and videotape sequel (written, yes, but who knows if it will ever be realized). And much of that comes down to just how perfect the ending is to the original film and how perfectly diaphanous it is. Its delicacy and the delicacy of its accomplishment are so fragile that they could have been upended easily. We see Graham outside in the light after having spent the vast majority of the film inside, interiorized. Soderbergh doesn't make too much of this though; it's briskly passed over (the whole final scene is brief and brisk, a capper to a sequence of catch up scenes for the cast of characters after some time has passed). Then, when Ann arrives, we get that final exchange which, if it's not famous, it should be ("I think it's going to rain." "It is raining."). Again, nothing much is made of this; Soderbergh simply cuts to black and credits. But the words have meaning beyond the direct and prosaic because we know these characters and their situation; we find additional meaning in them then and recognize the grace stroke of that final characterization.

On one hand, as someone who holds this movie dear and for whom it was far more of a formative influence than I'd even like to acknowledge, I would be interested in catching up with these characters 30 years later (!), and I have long wanted to see Spader reunite with Soderbergh, but, on the other hand, I really don't know if it's worth it. What could possibly follow up satisfyingly and sufficiently on the light touch ending of this perfect gem of a character study, one that is quietly subdued on the surface while containing great reservoirs of power and implication. What could be worth the risk of ruining that perfection? I trust Soderbergh, as far as it goes, to at least be serious about the challenge here, but follow ups like this are hard to entirely dismiss even if they obviously fail. I don't expect that but I really don't think I'm all that interested in seeing 60 year old Graham and Ann's grandkids frolicking around the family home in Baton Rouge while grandpa Graham struggles with an addiction to live video streams of online porn (of course this misses the point of the original entirely anyway as the sex was just a way into intimacy and vulnerability). Anyway, if this does happen I hope that SS at least recruits Cliff Martinez again to score it; he's as integral as the cast as far as I'm concerned.

User avatar
Gregor Samsa
Joined: Sun Aug 06, 2006 4:41 am

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#61 Post by Gregor Samsa » Thu Jul 22, 2021 7:06 am

Interesting. It's also not the only Go-Gos connection to the world of film (even besides Jane Wiedlin's cameo in Clue! and role in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure)--Baltimore native Gina Schock briefly played in Edith Massey's band Edie & The Eggs.

User avatar
therewillbeblus
Joined: Tue Dec 22, 2015 3:40 pm

Re: 938 sex, lies, and videotape

#62 Post by therewillbeblus » Thu Jul 22, 2021 8:15 am

John Cope wrote:
Thu Jul 22, 2021 4:50 am
Thinking again today of how conflicted I am over the prospect of Soderbergh's proposed sex, lies and videotape sequel (written, yes, but who knows if it will ever be realized). And much of that comes down to just how perfect the ending is to the original film and how perfectly diaphanous it is. Its delicacy and the delicacy of its accomplishment are so fragile that they could have been upended easily. We see Graham outside in the light after having spent the vast majority of the film inside, interiorized. Soderbergh doesn't make too much of this though; it's briskly passed over (the whole final scene is brief and brisk, a capper to a sequence of catch up scenes for the cast of characters after some time has passed). Then, when Ann arrives, we get that final exchange which, if it's not famous, it should be ("I think it's going to rain." "It is raining."). Again, nothing much is made of this; Soderbergh simply cuts to black and credits. But the words have meaning beyond the direct and prosaic because we know these characters and their situation; we find additional meaning in them then and recognize the grace stroke of that final characterization.
I think a vital ingredient that makes this film so special is Soderbergh's age at the time of conception and filming- his late 20s, when one begins to achieve the beginnings of self-actualization in their psychological development. The ending is perfect because it assumes that Soderbergh is aware that a) there are endless opportunities for self-discovery and growth to come, and b) conversely, the layers of defense mechanisms we concoct are similarly perpetual and unconquerable in absolute terms.

This is an ending of the utmost humility- like Bo Burnham's recent film, Inside, Soderbergh has peeled back the various protective parts he dons to unveil their inevitability and core functions. He’s relatively hopeful about what this newfound combination of acceptance and willingness will bring, especially with the cognizance of social intimacy’s role in helping us help ourselves (that initial consciousness that we cannot resolve our deep-rooted issues independently is, in my opinion, the key moment where we begin to develop necessary humility to access life on a deeper level). However, Soderbergh still won't give us a shred of false hope that rests in any sustained tangible form- as he hasn't experienced what comes next, and on some level I believe he's aware in the end that this process of working on oneself and with others and riding the rollercoaster of regression and progress is nonlinear.

So as you indicate, any sequel would just show much of the same, but wouldn't carry the youthful energy of the first film that contains a sense of awe and urgency to its revelations. I also trust Soderbergh to make good on any film he’s got passion for enough to transition to production, but any honest sequel would be a recycled set of themes cast through the perspective of someone desensitized and sagacious, and I'm not so sure this will ultimately give us anything the first doesn't- as even in one's 20s (and certainly for these characters), there are parts of us that have been numbed and earned wisdom in our lives already. A greater tilt into that state, or another, less erratically-challenged state of complacency, doesn't hold much interest for me- I could see this Sisyphean reminder being powerful if conveyed in a certain light, but it’s been done many times before. And how would one replicate an ending that similarly leaves open our narratives to life’s holds, even with a new shade of crystallized acceptance? I feel like Before Midnight already ended that way for a sequel with aged characters continuing to come to grips with the same cyclical problems and resolutions imperfectly.

Post Reply