The Box

This movie was much better than I expected.  That doesn't mean I loved it, but I definitely didn't hate it (well, maybe I hated it, but I hated it less than I thought I would).  I left and asked two girls leaving who looked college age what they thought.  They both shared zero understanding of the story they had just been told.  I tried to explain it to them, focusing on the point that it's simpler than they thought, but they still didn't get it.

I doubt revealing plot elements here will ruin anyone's day, but honestly just don't read this if you care.

The movie frames itself as this big, deep puzzle, but it's rather easily summed up.  When NASA sent a ship to Mars, they brought something back.  Through a bolt of lightning the Martians possessed the would-be deceased Frank Langella character with the unnecessarily dramatic name of Arlington Steward.  Steward acts as a proxy for the Martians, who want to run tests on human beings to essentially decide if they are worthy of living--for if their living would mean eventually cohabiting Mars.  The eponymous Box marks the beginning of a series of moral tests which obviously we all fail, choosing self interest over what we know to be right.  All of this is revealed through dialogue in only a few scenes, which are few and far between, with a whole lot of why am I on the edge of my seat? in between.



Within the name "Arlington Steward" lies the beginning of the deception.  This guy's name doesn't just strike a chord with the audience naturally, but director Richard Kelly makes sure that every character who utters it takes notice of it, with some ominous musical accompaniment (which coincidentally occupies every single other scene of the film as well).  This is his formal way of telling us that there is something significant about the name Arlington Steward.  There isn't actually anything significant about it other than the fact that it signifies the man, who is significant, if only as a "vessel."  Despite his being possessed by Martians, the name is one of just an average joe, so there is no need for such a ridiculous name other than to fake heightening of the stakes to the audience.  Anticipation is much greater when you get a note saying "Arlington Steward" is coming, it has a different meaning than if it says "Dick Whitman."  Actually, Dick Whitman is an awesome name too.  "Peter Seligson," that's a name that makes my point.  This is only one of many, many red herrings in this story.

Actually the term "red herring" does not really apply here.  It's not as if Kelly fools us with sub-plots that distract from solving the riddle.  His version of the red herrings here are strictly formal.  He just loads every scene and plot point with unnecessary tension and nuance to make us feel like this story contains all of this depth that isn't really there.  A great comparison is the old slasher flick.  Take Prom Night.  It uses the classic device of the creepy janitor who we're meant to believe is the killer, so every time we watch him watching the girls, we get all the scary music and expressionist angles.  His character brings tension that is later proven to be false, as he turns out to just be lonely, but no killer.  We don't mind it there though because that's all part of the game.  Importantly as well, when he spies on the girls locker room, that is creepy, whether or not he does it while plotting to murder them.

Kelly abuses the audience much more though.  The girls I spoke to leaving the theater have been wronged by this film.  They're not stupid and Richard Kelly is no genius.  Richard Kelly is a guy trying to convince them that they will never be able to understand everything that's going on in one of his films, but they can still be scared and love it.  All of these weird scenes that you think mean something really do not.  Let me just say once that if someone has an explanation for why the student torments Cameron Diaz, please correct me and explain away.  I think it's just to add tension.  I also believe the injury to her foot (lost four toes when a doctor left an x-ray machine on too long) is there for the same reason, for it only factors into a scene that ends up providing no consequence, when she tells Steward how she related to him.  That moral fiber she shows him leads to nothing, as he tells her that she cannot make up for pushing the button, and he still gives Diaz and James Marsden the same final test as the couple before them.  Diaz's foot is a classic technique of a screenplay coming from a USC grad, or a guy who's read William Goldman or Robert McKee.  Honestly, I read those books a long time ago and forget the terms they use, but it's there to give the character a heart--something the be an anchor for the audience to sympathize with and add depth.  It allows us to defend her when she makes such otherwise unforgivable choices.  And you know how much we love to forgive our leading ladies' misdeeds.

As far as the student, let's discuss the other possessed humans.  Steward repeats often that he has many "employees."  We find out that whenever he accesses their thoughts or controls them, he goes through their frontal lobe, which causes a nose bleed.  We see some of them as total zombies, some as regular functioning people, and some as just creepy like the student.  Which one are we going to go with here?  I know it's convenient and all to be able to decide what's going to be the creepiest in each scene and then pick that possessed human archetype, but come on.  Can the Martians control them or not?  Are they omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent?  We see some possessed humans defy the Martians.  Are those in moments of weakness for the Martians?  Or does Kelly just need to find ways to reveal plot points that inherently would never be divulged if everything went according to the Martians' plan?

He places this film in the 1970s when space would have been constantly trending on twitter.  He does this partly for that reason, as it is topically relevant to the time, and partly because he wants to do a period piece and spend a lot of time with production designers on all of the period detail so that he can then talk about it on DVD behind-the-scenes extra features.  Unfortunately again, this is another bullet, taking another one of his and Cameron Diaz's toes off.  Again Kelly hangs narrative out to dry in favor of form.  The conclusion the film leaves us with is that humans failed the tests because we're morally bankrupt like Whitney Houston.  The result of that failure had been stated as "expedited extinction."  Simply, even though it's obviously fiction, if this happened in the 1970s, we would not be here anymore.  Kelly should have used the period piece device better, much like when you start with the ending.  It's like ABC's Flash Forward.  Sometimes, when you know your characters are going to make it through, for whatever reason, you focus less on the actual plot and more on the meaning.  Here, while watching, I tried to do that, but then Kelly betrayed that thinking without logic to support it. Not only was there no logic to support it, Kelly was either entirely dismissive of this added weight the period piece element brings, or entirely unaware.  I'm betting unaware (yes, because he is an idiot).

I believe all of the choices he makes in this film are based on what he thinks will add the most tension, rather than tell the story properly.  He does the same thing in Donnie Darko, for that film was significantly less complicated than people thought, but it also had many, many more plot holes than The Box.  That is only because Donnie is a more difficult film to create and to watch though, as well as far superior.

He's completely on the crowd-pleaser tip, even going the misogyny route because he knows only nerdy guys like him (and me.  and girls who just feel like going to the movies but don't want to watch Law Abiding Citizen and have already seen Where the Wild Things Are--talk about morally bankrupt) will watch this movie.  Of course it's always the woman who pushes the button.  The only good thing he has Diaz do is the scene I spoke of before where she relates to his facial injury, however, that is not rewarded and is simply there as the scene representing the structural "heart" of the tale, if we were to apply this to a McKee or Syd Field outline.  The scene is completely meaningless, presumably how Kelly feels about women's Dionysian nature.

Indeed I only have criticism for The Box.  I do not really have anything good to say about it.  I did lead this article off with saying it beat my expectations though.  That's partly because Southland Tales came out in between this and Donnie Darko, and I follow Richard Kelly on twitter.  He's a total moron.  He's a nerd who knows his shit as far as sci-fi and actual science, and learned some great formulaic screenwriting tricks at USC.  Otherwise, he's a hack.  I was so incredibly disappointed when I read that he was just making another monkey's paw adaptation.  When I saw the first trailer, I wanted this film to be a 48 minute episode of whatever monster-of-the-week show is on right now.  I was angered that it would be allowed to be made.

I give it to him that he expanded immensely on the classic Richard Matheson archetypal story.  This is not just a standard monkey's paw moral tale, for it does go into some interesting stuff about Mars and the humanity element is no doubt gripping.  I just wish there was more to it and less garbage in between.  Unfortunately, all of the more is quite unnecessary form over function muck, that while leading to a better overall filmgoing experience, brings us, in the end, to the same archetype and the same conclusion.

Just don't push the button.

(note the two posters.  The second with all three stars faces is the original, but I haven't seen that placed anywhere for months, in favor of the top one with just Diaz' face.  They sold this film as a star vehicle, not as the dude who did Donnie Darko.  It took him years to make Southland Tales.  I wonder how long it'll take him to make his next one.  Not holding my breath)