Hoo-friggin-ray, enough time has passed that we can now call a film ‘early 2000s as hell.’ And who knows, maybe with everything the way it is now, you can just about find some sentiment from that era. Ah, ‘member thinking the Bush administration was as bad as it was going to get? Erm…uh…er…’member Limp Bizkit…? ‘Member casual homophobia…? ‘Member the post-9/11 blues…? Okay, fine, maybe there’s a lot of crap we’re glad to have left behind, to of course replace with different kinds of crap.
But still, it’s interesting to see just how you can isolate very specific trends to very specific instances in time. In this case, I’m talking that rather brief post-Matrix trend in media of showcasing leather-clad gunslinging sorts murmuring pseudo-philosophy while every once in a while techno music blares out to extravagant action sequences, which spread across television, games, and more. And here’s one such example!
Directed by Kurt Wimmer, Equilibrium stars Christian Bale in that period between him playing Bateman and Batman. Through a somewhat confusing opening sequence of WW2 stock footage, we’re introduced to a world where human emotion has been suppressed by a regime arising from the ashes of apocalypse. In between using emotion-suppressive drugs, said dystopia also goes out of its way to destroy every piece of artwork and literature it can find lest they inspire any sort of feeling, in the name of eliminating anger, rage, jealousy, and so forth. To this end, it uses legions of foot soldiers with motorcycle helmets, who inevitably have to be bailed out by a cadre of ‘Tetragrammaton priests’, whose priestly tenant is apparently to show up clad in leather coats and then gun down everyone like John Woo’s going out of style.
And so successful is this government in suppressing art, is that said priests require high-tech scanners to confirm that a painting is, in fact, a painting. Perhaps it was made with Barnett Newman in mind.
Anyhoo, you may be thinking that this all sounds like an amalgamation of 1984, Brave New World, and every other dystopian parable, complete even with Nazi-invoking imagery and inexplicable zeppelins hovering over cubist architecture. You’d be right—though I must admit there’s some effort there to invoke atmosphere, with a lot of location usage of grim Germanic concrete-clad locations like Tempelhof Airport and the Berlin underground, which does at least lend an air of appropriate soullessness to this emotionless environment. As I’ll get to, while Wimmer is grabbing every trope that catches his eye like he’s at a bratwurst buffet, I do get a sense he’s not doing so with cynicism.
Back to the plot. Bale plays John Preston, the crem de la creme of this order of Neo wannabes, who is so devoted to the regime he’s even had his own wife imprisoned. He works alongside fellow enforcer Sean Bean, and, of course, being Sean Bean, I can assure you, his character remains a constant throughout, who by no means is killed off far too early and well you’re not buying this for a second are you.
This all leads into Preston fumbling with his drug dosage and eventually re-awakening his emotional state. At the same time, he’s paired up with Taye Diggs as Brandt, a diehard loyalist—and here we get into a little problem with the flick. You see, it’s actually quite difficult for actors trained in emoting to completely suppress every possible display of emotion—unless, of course, you’re Kevin Costner or Dave Duchovny.
Even though Brandt’s meant to be completely hooked on the regime’s drugs, he seemingly can’t help but exhibit things like smugness, indignation, and eventually shouting anger, proclaiming at the same time how ‘I am NOT FEELING!!!’ In fact, he seems even more emotional than the seemingly reawakening Preston, and while I guess this may be deliberate, it also kinda undermines the main character thread when it feels not so much Preston experiencing the highs and lows of emotion again, so much as him becoming a little less hard-assed than his compatriots.
There’s also one amusing scene where Preston experiences music on an emotional level for the first time, and of course it’s the Ninth Symphony. Imagine if it was Aqua’s ‘Barbie Girl’. And also the dubstep megacrunkcore remix version.
Still, despite all of that, the film does make an effort to strike out its own touches—like, of course, the infamous gun kata, the fighting style of the Tetragrammaton. Essentially, it involves them making tai chi poses while firing pistols on fully automatic, and it’s weird thing where it’s simultaneously incredibly stupid yet kinda evocative. I mean, this supposedly unstoppable style would obviously be dealt with by any moron with an AK spraying in an 180 angle, but it’s played so sincerely, presented with such reverence, that yeah, for a split-second you might even be convinced it could work.
And that’s kind of the feeling I get from the film—that Wimmer, despite being a little pretentious about it, despite his reach outstretching his ability, really did want to make his own super-stylish action-philosophy film, and I can forgive many things if I sense there’s something genuine in a work. I must admit, if nothing else, the questions the film attempts to tackle stirred thoughts more interesting than the piece itself in my head. Do things truly deserved to be banned, suppressed, merely for stirring the discomfort of negative emotions? Is art not all about evoking and provoking every aspect of the human condition, the good and the ill alongside each other? Can one truly appreciate elation and euphoria without first having to confront despair in the eye? Is it better to bring forth the pain of sadness and learn to properly grapple with it, or cast it aside, lest it bury and consume you?
Does Equilibrium answer any of that adequately? Hell no! The closest it gets is mumbling something about ‘balance’, so essentially, the moral is become a Jedi I guess. Still, at least that leaves a little more to it than other films from around then, like, sigh, Queen of the Damned.
In any case, the last act is fairly predictable fare, as Bale murders his way through a hundred million peons with katanas and guns, and then works his way to the head honcho like it’s a video game level, with some comical CG cropping up in the process. There isn’t exactly the level of catharsis as seeing Keanu Reeves finally ascending to becoming The One. It’s definitely the weakest part, and though it doesn’t leave on the best note, it’s hardly the worst experience.
Overall, it’s like watching someone with very little actual dance skill have at it on the floor despite that. Sure, they clearly don’t know entirely what they’re doing, sure they’re attempting to do the Thriller and the Charleston at the same time for some baffling reason, but there’s enough determined gusto in there that you can’t help but watch anyway. And hey, a few folks got something out of this film—it hit big in Japan, of course, influencing many a manga and anime creator, and it doesn’t help that gratuitous pseudo-christian imagery was already a popular staple there. If you enjoy a more even flick with a little less possible pretentiousness, this probably isn’t for you—but for bemusing action grappling with things over its head, well, I won’t deny I’ve have many, many worse viewings. And if nothing else, seeing Bale cover the floor with spent casings while performing aerobics makes for something memorable…
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