Could we just be honest with ourselves and admit that Inception was a cinematic masterpiece that far-exceeded anything he has done in the past?–and, yes, that does include The Dark Knight. Typically, when a film maker with Nolan’s talent and ability creates a picture of this quality, he has shit the proverbial bed.
Not so, I feel, with Christopher Nolan. From Insomnia to The Dark Knight, Nolan has never really been “disappointing” to me. But he is also a director with a vision we do not know much about yet. We haven’t really gotten “used” to Nolan outside of our Batman expectations and his obvious admiration for fine actors and Film Noir.
But let’s return to the point I made earlier–the heretical statement that Inception was somehow a superior film than The Dark Knight. Bloggers and columnists have actually managed to scribe a thought so profane and mind-numbing that I’m hesitant to believe that they even take themselves seriously. The idea was: “Now that Nolan got this dream-movie out of his system, he can get back on track with the next Batman sequel.”
Really? Fuck you. Really?!
Don’t get me wrong–The Dark Knight was phenomenal, as was Batman Begins–but they are (for all technical purposes) Comic Book Superhero movies. Of course they can be done well in the right hands. The source material is virtually infinite–you know all of the stories and how they turn out–and for fuck’s sake, after Batman and Robin, as long as the Batman isn’t wearing ice skates, I’m impressed.
But Inception takes film to a whole other level (like Avatar, except not totally gay) and it shows. Chris Nolan showcased some of the greatest actors in Hollywood today–and I’m not just saying that because I’m a total homer for Joseph Gordon Levitt, either…(wasn’t Brick fucking amazing?)
Hopefully this film puts Levitt on such a cinematic plateau that he will never even have to think about being in a G.I.Joe movie ever again.
There’s one more thing I’d like to say about this movie–and I’ll leave the rest of the review to Watson (coming soon)…
Without spoiling anything–at least nothing that hasn’t been spoiled already–let’s talk about the ending.
And the only thing about the ending that can be said is that you’re either going to laugh, groan, or let loose a string of profanity toward the big screen and everyone you care about. But before you do, know this: it doesn’t matter.
Inception‘s conclusion is insignificant, but not without meaning. The lifeblood of the film is in the journey and the mental labyrinth involved in the psychology and philosophy of dreams–exhibited in a kind-of Matrix and Minority Report level of sci-fi with a Dark Knight level of Noir modern-ish realism.
Essentially, it’s enough of a literary mixing pot to make an English Professor jizz his pants.
Think of the film’s ending as an inside joke with the audience–a tongue-in-cheek jab-in-the-ribs that all of you are a part of after sitting through the movie. Of course it will have you talking. It will have you talking for fucking hours.
…but when you walk out of the theater and hear someone’s cunty girlfriend asking, “Wait, so what happened? I don’t get it.” Try to ignore it, and be safe in the knowledge that–not unlike the finale of LOST–you’re amongst a demographic of people who “get it,” and that’s what makes this film so much more special than many will inevitably realize.
And if that makes you an asshole, so be it. Be an asshole in IMAX.
Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream? Poe. Edgar Allan.
