Thank You for Talking
Earlier this week my husband and I watched Thank You for Smoking, a witty, vicious little movie about spin. The movie follows the life of a fictional lobbyist for the tobacco industry named Nick Nailer (played by Aaron Eckhart). He narrates the story as well as living in the action.
I was intrigued by the movie because it is about a totally morally bankrupt character surrounded by other morally bankrupt characters. They are not inhumanized or villianized, particularly; they just go about their daily lives with little regard to the consequences of their actions and absolutely no sense of personal responsibility.
I enjoyed the movie because it wasn't a triumph of the better human qualities or a story about a Scrooge-like change of heart. Nailer simply goes on about his business of defending corporations with no introspection what-so-ever. In fact, none of the characters ever have a moment when they exam their lives and their motives.
The movie was funny, in that brutal, honest, and mean sort of way.
What makes it worth writing a post about however, is my curiosity as to how audiences perceived the film.
Did they share my horrified amusement at a character who really is utterly amoral? I suspect that the answer is "No."
See, Thank You for Smoking pretends to be a redemption story. It neatly follows the arc we all expect to see from a story about a man's enlightenment. He is alienated and reunited with his son. He confronts someone who is directly affected by his work, and he loses everything when someone more ruthless than he is sells him out.
And I suspect that many viewers took the story at face value, and failed to recognize that the redpemption in this film is a farce.
The movie neatly skewers the genre- the character makes a dramatic "courtroom" stance, and then, when faced with reporters and an offer to take back his own life, he turns it down.
But, unlike Scrooge and countless other such tales, we get to see the rest of the story, and the rest of the story is that the character doesn't change. In fact, except for the name on his office door, nothing changes.
And that is the point of the film.
I was intrigued by the movie because it is about a totally morally bankrupt character surrounded by other morally bankrupt characters. They are not inhumanized or villianized, particularly; they just go about their daily lives with little regard to the consequences of their actions and absolutely no sense of personal responsibility.
I enjoyed the movie because it wasn't a triumph of the better human qualities or a story about a Scrooge-like change of heart. Nailer simply goes on about his business of defending corporations with no introspection what-so-ever. In fact, none of the characters ever have a moment when they exam their lives and their motives.
The movie was funny, in that brutal, honest, and mean sort of way.
What makes it worth writing a post about however, is my curiosity as to how audiences perceived the film.
Did they share my horrified amusement at a character who really is utterly amoral? I suspect that the answer is "No."
See, Thank You for Smoking pretends to be a redemption story. It neatly follows the arc we all expect to see from a story about a man's enlightenment. He is alienated and reunited with his son. He confronts someone who is directly affected by his work, and he loses everything when someone more ruthless than he is sells him out.
And I suspect that many viewers took the story at face value, and failed to recognize that the redpemption in this film is a farce.
The movie neatly skewers the genre- the character makes a dramatic "courtroom" stance, and then, when faced with reporters and an offer to take back his own life, he turns it down.
But, unlike Scrooge and countless other such tales, we get to see the rest of the story, and the rest of the story is that the character doesn't change. In fact, except for the name on his office door, nothing changes.
And that is the point of the film.
posted by Terri | 4:16 PM
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