Thursday, July 28, 2011

Teenage Rebellion in Cinema

Inspired by the current showing of the classic 60's British film If... in Athens cinemas (and of course a general social upheaval in my city...), I present below a list of favourite movies which explore a sensitive subject: the rebel attitude of youth, stemming from frustration, alienation and sense of displacement in the world they live in. And because no action comes without reaction, what are the consequences of those rebellious and disobedient behaviours into the individual and into society as a whole. More films of course could be added, feel free to add comments and suggestions.

Rebel Without a Cause (Nicholas Ray, 1955)
The movie that started it all. Director Nicholas Ray presented here the first clear and deep insight into youth. James Dean in his instant-classic debut reincarnated all the troubles teenagers deal with: the oppression from family values, school rules and peer pressure, the confusion of sexual awakening. Ray stated bravely that such a sensitive and tender personality as a teenager's cannot stand this avalanche of emotions and is bound to
-one way or another-explode either inwardly or outwardly. This dipole is the fundamental outcome of any of the other teenage films that followed on Rebel Without a Cause's path.

The 400 Blows (Francois Truffaut, 1959)
Truffaut's debut put him and his fellow French Nouvelle Vague colleagues into the world map of cinema. 15-year-old Jean-Pierre Leaud played Truffaut's alter ego Antoine Doinel, and he reprised his role in four more films under Truffaut's direction. In The 400 Blows, Leaud gave simply the greatest performance by a child actor in cinema. He may be the epitome of juvenile delinquent, but Antoine's behaviour is clearly shown to originate from his parents' total neglection of him. The plot is basically a sequence of unlucky or accidental events whose end result is always the punishment of the boy from a cruel, unforgiving institution (the school teacher, the unloving parents, the police). Antoine is consequently driven further and further to an emotional distance from this unjust world he lives in. The classic end shot is one of the most unforgettable single images in cinema. The boy runs to the sea; suddenly he stops, his face is framed in a stop-motion close-up and his piercing blue eyes gaze us through the camera. The blame is on us.

If... (Lindsay Anderson, 1968)
If... takes place in what can be the most unfriendly and authoritative of institutions: an English private boarding school (or public schools as they call them in the UK). There is formal hierarchy even amongst the students; there are strict rules to be followed; and there is severe physical punishment following any disobedient or divergent behaviours and actions. However, this time a small, non-conformist group of students will refuse to obey to orders and decide to take control. Well... do they?
If....
is a masterpiece where surrealism, absurdity, laugh, shock and reality are blended. This is one of those rare film jewels
constantly generating discussions; full of messages and ideas which the viewer has to find and interpret in their own way. The final chapter with its unexpected twist is everyone speaks about and it must be seen to be believed. The photography is a true highlight, shifting at random scenes between vivid colour and cold, grey hues of black and white. This shift initially baffles the viewer but works subversively, as it enhances the strange Brechtian effect of alienation from the depicted events the film creates.
More than a satire of the private school system, If... is a not-so-hidden plea for revolt against forms of establishment, power and authority. It's still surprising that it was a critical and commercial success at the time, and is widely considered one of the all-time greatest British films. Malcolm McDowell, in his unforgettable debut, impressed Kubrick so much that he chose to cast him as Alex DeLarge in A Clockwork Orange on the strength of his performance on If... alone. Ī¤rivia:
the movie was partly shot in director's Lindsay Anderson actual school.

A Clockwork Orange (Stanley Kubrick, 1971)
It's impossible to avoid placing the two Malcolm McDowell films side-by-side: they were made within three years from each other, the main characters in both bear striking similarities in their (mis)behaviour (careless, reckless teenagers with a violent streak), and both films come across as quintessentially British. The message though in A Clockwork Orange is much more pessimistic and profoundly disturbing, placing the movie into the "dystopian sci-fi" subgenre. The rebellious youth must, and will, be reformed;
the individual must, and will, be shaped according to acceptable norms of social behaviour; the state will continue to pull the strings. Kubrick said that his film was a study in violence: when observed under the "teenage rebellion" viewpoint though, A Clockwork Orange stands as deeply political.

Rumble Fish (Francis Ford Coppola, 1983)
It's part of film history that a group of school pupils in 1980 sent a letter to Coppola saying that their favourite book was Suzan Hinton's Outsiders and it should be transferred to cinema, but only by him. Coppola went finally to film two Hinton's books in the same year, Outsiders and Rumble Fish,
of which I prefer the latter. Shot in black and white (except for the title's fish), the film is a showcase for the great acting talent of Mickey Rourke, who as Motorcycle Boy gives a performance to match Dean's legend.
Motorcycle Boy is a legend in his small town, a symbol of the great 60's generation who suddenly left behind family and friends and disappeared. Matt Dillon plays Rourke's younger brother who follows his brother's steps as an up-and-coming hoodlum; however, he is always eclipsed when compared to Motorcycle Boy, living forever on his shadow. The big brother will
unexpectedly return home, battered and resigned as he has seen his idealism is pointless on this world; his return will trigger a series of events which will change his younger brother's life.
Coppola's superb move -accentuating the movie's sad, pessimistic viewpoint- was to cast Dennis Hopper as the boys' father: Hopper was of course the uncompromising embodiment of personal freedom in Easy Rider and James Dean's friend in Rebel Without a Cause.
"There is no place in the world for the young", Coppola said in 1984 in Premiere magazine. "The film's message is that in order to become adult, someone has to forever deny something or someone they love.
The world is full of obstacles for the young and that's the reason they rebel. They're like the rumble fish: they would not kill each other if we let them free in the river".
A complete failure commercially and critically (even booed when it was showed at the New York Film Festival), Coppola never stopped to defend Rumble Fish, which now stands both as a prized small gem
in his filmography and -Apocalypse Now! excluded- his most personal film to date.

The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off (John Hughes, 1986)
The late John Hughes scored a perfect double whammy in 1986 as he presented teenage angst under a different viewpoint than the other films listed here. Once regarded as light teenage comedies, his films are now classics of the highest cinematic value, thanks to their sincere and realistic portrayal of teenage life.
The Breakfast Club focuses on how teens are stereotyped and how
accordingly certain behaviours and life choices are expected from them based on that stereotype. A complete, unified system of parents, schoolteachers and other fellow teens conspires and operates in order to place teenagers under those norms and prejudices. When five of these teens -who represent five different teen stereotypes- are brought together in a class in Saturday's morning detention, a strong clash with that oppresive system but with their own self-beliefs as well will follow; and it will be shockingly relevatory to all of them. In the end, this day will change their lives and they will come out winners, as personified by Judd Nelson's clenched fist thrusting up in the air.
The film covers a vast array of topics: father/son issues, class/social status differences between schoolmates, career path expectations from parents, prejudice and discrimination from teachers.
It is exciting how freshly and sincerely the topics are presented and how relevant they still remain today; this is The Breakfast Club's main success.

Ferris Bueller's Day Off is more on the comedy side; however, the film's eponymous protagonist is as unconventional a rebel as it can get. Ferris Bueller (a perfectly cast Matthew Broderick) is a good student, a clean-cut kid who simply decides to have some fun before he embarks onto the next step of his life (college - i.e. adulthood). The film's immortal line encapsulates Ferris' mindset: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." On this adventure, he will drag his best friend Cameron along with him; Cameron though is unfortunately too stiff and too worried thinking about his parents and the repercussions of his actions to enjoy their newfound freedom. That is up until the breaking point, where he is finally enlightened: "My old man pushes me around. I never say anything! Well he's not the problem, I'm the problem. I gotta stand against him...I'm just tired of being afraid". In the film's crowning moment next, Cameron will turn his father's prized Ferrari convertible into scrap metal.
Ferris Bueller's Day Off most valuable lesson is that we adults could significantly improve our lives if we could manage to disregard some rules and expected normal behaviours imposed to us by society at large. This is a risk worth taking, Ferris is secretly telling us: it is not anarchy that would follow rebellion, it is personal bliss.

La Haine
(Mathieu Kassovitz, 1995)
Like The Specials' "Ghost Town" and The Clash's "London Calling", La Haine will sadly be forever topical. After the 2005 Paris suburbs riots, the events depicted in the movie became shockingly prescient. In If..., the oppresive force is school; in La Haine, it is the police. Its brutal, violent tactics of law enforcement will push two of the three protagonists (all from ethnic minorities) to take drastic action.
Kassovitz does not shy away from choosing side, but his film never becomes didactic or mere agitprop: surprisingly, its impact is enhanced because of the subtlety of the direction and the performances, although the film's theme theoretically should call for the opposite. Shot in a stark black and white (a truly outstanding cinematography) and boasting an inventive direction from newcomer Kassovitz, La Haine is a landmark of inspired and inspiring cinema.

Elephant (Gus Van Sant, 2003)
In Elephant, director Gus Van Sant offers nothing to help us. No motivations explain the actions of the protagonists; no background stories or subplots exist; no psychological or sociological threads run clearly. Michel Houellebecq wrote in his book The Elementary Particles that young kids are inherently the most evil creatures in the whole world. Elephant could be viewed simplistically like this: teenagers doing mean things to each other, with no apparent reason whatsoever, well because there is no reason.
The film follows two teenagers in their school. Their life is presented in a sequence of events.
Strangely, there is absolutely no effort from the director's point of view to involve the viewer in any emotional way. This directing style follows the aloof, unsentimental way the two teenagers act throughout the movie. There is a cold, unsettling, unusual detachment to everything we see which makes the final sequence even more tragic and surreal.
Elephant
won the Palme d'Or and Van Sant received the Best Director award
at the 2003 Cannes festival. Unusually slow pace, long takes, and little dialogue: Elephant is demanding for everyone but rewarding for the very few.