Desert of the Real - Power/Knowledge Relationships in Gilliam's "Brazil"

Hello all! Welcome back to the Knowledge of Consequences, where this week we will be analyzing the film Brazil through the lens of Foucault’s power/knowledge relationship. Let’s begin.

Objective Review

Many of the themes and concepts that we will introduce today are recurrent throughout the film and, one might argue, they increase in intensity and apparentness as the film progresses. However, since looking at the entire film would take much more time than I am able to spare, and surely you are willing to give, we’re going to focus on the entrance of my favorite character, Archibald “Harry” Tuttle. Since I am so incredibly benevolent, I have included two clips of the scene here:

To get us up to speed, and since our film actually has an important, structured plot this time, I will summarize. Our main protagonist Sam Lowry is living in a dystopian society where his air conditioned has just badly malfunctioned. He has attempted to contact “Central Services”, a dystopian form of maintenance service run by the government.  I’m sure you can imagine how well this works out.

Sam is wallowing in the misery that is his now furnace-like apartment when he suddenly finds that an intruder is in his home, pointing a Walther P38 9mm handgun at him. Certainly not how he was hoping his night would go. Shortly though, our intruder jovially reveals himself to be “Harry Tuttle, heating engineer at your service”. Apparently in the future we have euphemisms for A/C repairmen. Tuttle proceeds to begin his work as Sam (remember, our slightly naïve, slightly pitiful protagonist) begins to ask him questions. Several very important elements are revealed during this conversation.

First of all, we’re just going to establish here and now that Terry Gilliam (the director) has a fetish for ducts. Big, small, corrugated grey ducts much like the kind used in HVAC systems or sewers or pneumatic canister message systems. These ducts are absolutely everywhere in this film and completely permeate (almost) every setting. This is absolutely ludicrous and surely can’t have anything to do with a deeper meaning. …..?

Now, we also learn in this scene that it is absolutely forbidden to touch, mess with, attempt to repair or think of interacting with these ducts. Sam asks, “Are you saying this is illegal?” To which Tuttle replies “Well, yes... and no. Officially, only Central Service operatives are supposed to touch this stuff...” The establishment doesn’t want anyone messing with their ductwork. Curious. Curiouser and curiouser…

We also discover that our pal Tuttle is not quite your average peach. Obviously, intruding into someone’s domicile in a ski mask and a Walther in your hand is not quite normative behavior. But, more than that, we see more clues that Tuttle is an outlier. For example, although it is highly illegal and no one else in this society (that we know of) dares, Tuttle has no qualms about fiddling with the ever prevalent duct work. Essentially, Tuttle has broken into someone’s home (an illegal act) in order to commit an even more heinous illegality! Clearly Tuttle doesn’t play by the rules.

Finally, after some fun conversation and a view of the absurdly designed ductwork (complete with creepy lung-like bladder), we are privileged to witness a major character change in Sam. Up to this point, Sam has been a placid non-achieving sheep that is fine just where he is, being led wherever and playing by whatever rules are set before him. But, there comes a time in every sheep’s life where they must decide whether to continue being unthinking automatons, or stand up to the wolf in defense of their own agency. (Not really, as a sheep would surely get swiftly devoured by any wolf that it stood up to, but for right now I’m using it as a colorful and amusing metaphor so we’ll just go with that for now) Suddenly, a knock comes at Sam’s door. Two Central Services repairmen arrive and suspiciously insist on gaining immediate entrance to Sam’s apartment in order to fix his air conditioning. Sam, however, knows that Harry Tuttle is in the next room and that the entrance of these newcomers will certainly end in disaster for all. So, Sam deviates from the rules given to him and lies to the repairmen, forcing them to leave and thereby protecting Tuttle from whatever unpleasantries may have ensued.

Reaction

I hate to be a downer again, but I don’t particularly like Terry Gilliam movies and this is no exception. While I admire them for their artfulness and their importance to a well-cultured mind, I rarely watch them over again just for fun. They make me feel a little like I did too much LSD in the 70’s and now I am increasingly worried that I am actually crazy, and therefore am expressing that worry through film. There are exceptions however, as 12 Monkeys is a pretty interesting sci-fi time travel drama and Monty Python and the Holy Grail is the epitome of everything that is sacred in the world of comedy. I can say that I enjoyed some of the absurdity of the film and the acting was pretty spot on. The art direction was also superb, but unfortunately personally made me feel… less than satisfied.

Analysis

Shoot. I’ve written too much again. Well, that’ll have to do because I have again included a lot of the beginning threads of analysis in the review. We will now follow these threads to their interesting and intellectual conclusions.

In the preface to The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences (Les mots et les choses: Une archéologie des sciences humaines, 1966) Foucault introduces us to the concept of “orders”. In this context, we are not necessarily discussing order as in, the absence of anarchy or disorder. Rather, an “order” is a particular way of organizing and orienting elements in relation to one another. One visual representation of this is a grid, which might organize delectable coffee roasts into three categories: light/blonde, medium and dark roasts. This “order” informs the subject (ie. person looking into coffee) as to how to perceive and understand these different delicious coffees. Really though, the “order” itself is only represented in regards to how one element relates to one another. We can say that a blonde roast is lighter (and not nearly as delicious) as a dark roast, but we cannot actually observe the order itself. Foucault describes order as “the interstitial blanks separating all these entities from one another” (1966, pg 3). Another way to understand order (in a broader sense) is the system by which an individual views the world. We will dig deeper into the implications of this in a moment, but we should be able to immediately acknowledge that this “order” has amazing potential to influence.

This “order” is represented in Brazil through the ever present ducts that intercept and weave through every single scene. This characteristic shows that the “order” of the Ministry of Information (the governing body in Brazil) permeates through every level of society, and psyche. Through these ducts, the Ministry passes information (seen as papers in the film) and maintains its control of the populace.

In order to understand the implications of this “order”, we need to combine our concept of “order(s)” with what Foucault calls the “fundamental codes of a culture” (1996, pg 7). These fundamental codes serve to educate the uninitiated individual in the unspoken expectations of a culture. Basically, fundamental codes will communicate to an individual that using particular “orders” is expected, and therefore part of the culture of the whole. If we don’t understand why this is such a big deal, perhaps we need to be reminded of the words of Edgar Schein, who warned that “the forces that are created in social and organizational situations that derive from culture are powerful. If we don’t understand the operation of these forces we become victim of them.” (Schein, 2004).

This “order”, when integrated into a culture, creates the greatest superweapon in all of history. Not a weapon that is made to kill, per se, but a weapon to subdue the masses. When you determine how someone will view the world (and all of its inhabitants and their relationships) people will follow that “order” without need for prompting.

This blind obedience is seen often in Brazil. Even just within this scene, we know that Sam will not deviate from “normative” behavior by attempting to fix his air conditioning unit, although this creates great personal discomfort for him. We also know from other scenes that Sam is a “productive member of society” and goes to work every day without question, happily doling his life away as a cog in the machine. He does this because it is fundamental to the culture that has been created and the “order” he has been handed tells him that it is necessary.

Thankfully, we are not forever exiled to these established “orders”. Foucault describes the process of one ‘stepping over the threshold’. He says:

“It is here that a culture, imperceptibly deviating from the empirical orders prescribed for it by its primary codes, instituting an initial separation from them, causes them to lose their original transparency, relinquishes its immediate and invisible powers, frees itself sufficiently to discover that these orders are perhaps not the only possible ones or the best ones” (1966, pg7)

This is where we find our hero, Sam, at the end of the film. Prompted by his adoration for the woman of his dreams, Sam deviates from the established norm. He consistently breaks laws and, in doing so, steps outside of the order created by the Ministry of Information.

This is “The Real” that is described by French psychiatrist and philosopher Jacques Lacan. Whereas all other metaphysical spaces (The Imaginary and The Symbolic) are skewed, representative versions of reality, “The Real” is “"always in its place: it carries it glued to its heel, ignorant of what might exile it from there." (Lacan, 1981).

 Soothing music to help you step over that 'threshold'.

Post-Structurallism in Orson Welles' "The Trial"

This week we will be discussing post-structuralist and post-modern themes through an analysis of the 1962 film adaptation of Kafka’s “The Trial” directed by Orson Welles.

Objective Review

For this analysis we will be focusing on the opening scene of the film, mainly between the times of 04:00 and 11:15.

As our film in question opens past the title sequence, we see a young man asleep in his bed. This is Joseph K (played by Anthony Perkins, of PSYCHO fame), the protagonist in this story. Mr. K awakens to find the doorknob to his bedroom being turned. “Ms. Burstner?” Mr. K feebly asks, referring to one of his fellow housemates. Instead of Ms. Burstner, a man in dark clothes enters into the room. It is important to note here Orson Welles’ excellent use of cinematography and camera angle. 

The camera is set slightly lower, as to arrange the dark figure of the stranger above that of Mr. K, even though the latter is in the foreground. This tends to establish a feeling of dominance, or aggression. If the viewer looks closely enough, they can also note that the scene is filmed with a wide angle lens (as is typical of Welles’ films) that lends a very deep depth of focus to the scene. Perhaps we are being told that neither Mr. K or this dark stranger is more important than the other, they are both equal. More on that later. As the scene progresses, Mr. K begins to question the man, as is to be expected when one wakens to find a stranger in their room. However, as this dialogue continues, we become less and less sure of who is doing the questioning. For example, as Mr. K exclaims “Who…Who are you? What are you doing in here?!” the man in black immediately shoots back his own question. “Ms. Burstner frequently comes through that door?” Of course, this causes Mr. K to attempt to defend himself, albeit a little shakily and not without a good amount of stammering (well played Mr. Perkins). Clearly this exchange of words is not going to be the sort of linear, scripted conversations we are accustomed to. For the sake of brevity, we jump forward in the scene slightly, where we find this odd form of questioning continued. “Is she in some kind of trouble?” Mr. K asks, referring again to Ms. Burstner, whom he assumes the man in black has come to question. “What kind of trouble? Do you imagine we came here to see Ms. Burstner?” the stranger shoots back. Shortly, several more men enter the scene, also questioning Mr. K. Frustrated, Mr. K exclaims “You don’t deny or confirm anything!” Our protagonist’s aggravation increases when the men ask him about his phonograph, which Mr. K mistakenly refers to as his “pornograph”. Smooth move, sir. Furthermore, when the men lift up a rug covering the floor, they find an elliptical pattern left from previous furniture. To Mr. K’s dismay, the men fashion the fictitious word “ovular” to describe the shape. Despite Mr. K’s attempts to explain that “ovular” is not an actual word, the men simply reply “We can’t not write it down just because you say we shouldn’t!” To compound Mr. K’s predicament, the men seem to lose more and more faith in the validity of his statements (if that is even possible) and finally declare that “he (Mr. K) denies everything!” This should suffice for our analysis at the moment.

Reaction

Let me just get this out there right away: I can’t stand expressionism.

I particularly don’t enjoy German expressionistic cinema, which is why it was the bane of my existence in film school that films like Nosferatu, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Fritz Lang’s Metropolis are considered masterpieces of cinema. Unfortunately, this distaste carries over into Welles’ masterpiece as well. Personally, being raised on John Wayne movies, The Gunfight at the O.K. Corral and others, I tend to feel like my emotions are being hijacked when I watch something like The Trial. I would prefer that my information be laid out in a very clear fashion (it doesn’t even have to be linear, as I LOVE Christopher Nolan movies) and then I will choose what emotions to have or not have. However, this unfortunately tends to make for a shallower movie.

Thankfully, I do love much of the visual style of this genre, which plays into my devotion to classical film noirs. Therefore, even though The Trial made me want to take a cheese grater to my face, I can certainly appreciate the technical prowess and intention that is displayed in the film. This certainly is one of Orson Welles’ (or cinema for that matter) great works of art. Particularly, every single shot seems to have been made with intention, and is quite beautiful from a composition, lighting and mise en scene standpoint.

Interpretation

Now, it is finally time for us to dive into the post-structuralistic metaphors and themes seen in this film. I hope you will forgive me, as I have already alluded to several themes and symbols in the Review section, thereby slightly blurring the lines between each section.

To start off with, it is probably necessary to discuss several of the roles of the characters in the film, and the metaphors that first Kafka, then Welles is using them for.

I believe that Mr. K represents the individual. It can also be argued that, as the protagonist, Mr. K also represents us, the audience. We see this play nicely into the idea of the collapse of the individual in post structuralism. At the beginning of the film, Mr. K is clearly an individual, distinct from even the rest of his fellow lodgers in the house. Throughout the movie, we see this clear sense of self starting to degrade. For example, we find that Mr. K is one cog (albeit apparently an important one) within his largely faceless organization. Furthermore, we find that Mr. K is one of many citizens that have been accused, for one crime or another.

Conversely, the nameless men that burst into Mr. K’s residence represent society. This role can also be extended to many other characters in the film, but for the time being we will limit our analysis to the scope of the scene previously discussed.

Now that we have that down, let’s progress to specific elements of post structuralism within the film.

Our first concept to be covered is that of the absence of absolute truth. Nietzsche once commented that “All things are subject to interpretation whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth.” We find this reflected over and over again within The Trial. One of our first glimpses of this is when Mr. K remarks that the policemen who barge into his apartment “don’t deny or confirm anything!” This reflects the absence of an underlying truth that is true at all times, regardless of influences. Rather, we come to understand that truth is instead a relative idea, constantly affected by interactions. More on this later. We see another glimpse of this when the policemen declare of Mr. K, “He denies everything!” You don’t get much clearer than that.

Another important element is that of the continual mutual construction of society and the individual. This ties heavily into our idea of relative truth. We see that the policemen, whose job (one imagines) is to make objective, empirical observations of Mr. K in order to judge his guilt, are instead influenced by interactions with Mr. K. When Mr. K accidentally calls his phonograph a “pornograph”, the detectives jot this down in their notebooks, to be recalled later and used against him. Thus a simple misunderstanding, or interaction, comes to define the individual (or truth about said individual). We further see this in the issue of the use of the fictitious word “ovular”. Mr. K responds to the men’s creation of this word, which then gets caught in the cyclical pattern we see constantly repeated. At the culmination of this pattern, it is assumed that Mr. K has instead made up a ridiculous word, further defining him. Within our theory, we see this reflected by Sarup when it is remarked that there are “no stable truths or values”.

Finally, we arrive at the concept of historicism. Karl Popper defines historicism as:

“an approach to the social sciences which assumes that historical prediction is their principal aim…The belief… that it is the task of the social sciences to lay bare the law of evolution of society in order to foretell its future… might be described as the central Historicist doctrine.” (Popper, The Poverty of Historicism)

If this seems slightly confusing, let me assist. Historicism is basically the idea that, through the social sciences (sociology, psychology, anthropology, political science, etc) we can synthesize laws that should dictate the future. On one hand, this makes sense. After all, we understand from the physical sciences that if I get struck by a automobile, if that automobile has sufficient velocity and mass then I will go flying into the air. Biology further contains laws which explain that my landing will not be a pleasant one. Surely the social sciences can follow suit. Critiques of historicism however would argue that this is not possible. Popper explains this by explaining that history is not the event - result – event – result pattern that we think it is. Rather, “The evolution of life on earth, or of human society, is a unique historical process… Its description, however, is not a law, but only a singular historical statement.” (Popper, The Poverty of Historicism). So, we have established that history is not as linear and neat with a beginning and an end like we have previously thought. This is reflected brilliantly through The Trial. The beginning of our scene in question, which is basically the beginning of our film besides the prologue, is not really a beginning at all. A man is in a bed in a room, but we know practically nothing about the context. We have neither a back-story nor explanation. To further muddle the issues, we suddenly find more mysterious characters thrust into the story! Herein we find our post structuralistic metaphor of history, one event with neither a beginning or end.

To add even more depth to the metaphor, we find (or, at least I certainly did) the narrative of The Trial difficult to follow and absolutely impossible to predict. One minute we are listening to a grand speech, the next moment that speech is interrupted by a couple getting it on in the corner of the courtroom. Therefore, we see know observable laws by which to predict future events, or even to make much sense of previous ones. 

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this post, and I hope that you will argue vehemently with some of my ideas, or at least open up a conversation for us to discuss these ideas on a deeper level. Cheers!

p.s. Sorry it's so long. It won't happen again.