It's Friday night, y'all. time for #wenchwatches
Tonight, a rerun: #DarkCity
I *think* I watched this one in the theater, and I was instantly captivated by it. It was unlike so many other films I had watched until that point, a mix of genres and styles all mashed together.
Largely marketed as an art film gone mainstream, it surprisingly succeeded by that standard. Tonight's viewing is the Director's cut, which was felled by one of our old enemies, Studio Interference.
Let's watch!
Dark City also happened to be one of the first DVDs I bought. I *still* have it from the original run. I only managed to get my hands on the Director's cut recently, and I prefer it compared to the original.
There aren't any major differences between the two versions. This was still when film was shot on literal film. Deleted scenes were rare, and often destroyed entirely even as late as Event Horizon, which was released just the previous year. Still, the director's cut feels more like an authentic take on the material, with a slightly slower pass and less "the film explaining itself".
Dark City is a *odd* film to randomly walk in on. It has loads of environmental storytelling, which was not a common technique for many mass market films. Like Event Horizon, the slower pace was scene as an anathema, and the studios tried to push up the pacing artificially by dropping details and using music in scenes to give energy. It's hamfistily done and cheapened the film for summer thriller dollars.
A notable absence in the director's cut is Scheber's (Kiefer Sutherland) narration explaining the strangers. It immediately sets a different tone for the film. You're meant to *engage* with the material. The film wants you to theorize and guess what's going on, it's part of the fun of it.
Tantalizing details are left throughout the first act which we'll pick up on later. A drop of blood by no wound, a mysterious man with a pocket watch. A missing wallet.
The genre throughout this act feels very film noir through a modern lens, with hints of cop drama and even Lang's "M". You might be forgiven for assuming this is a period piece -- until the confrontation with the Strangers.
The Strangers really cap off our first, surprisingly short act of the film. Our protagonist, John Murdock (Sewell), has been pursued by them since discovering a murdered, naked women in his hotel room.
On his way out, the hotel manager tells him the automat has his wallet. And there we get our first indication of what genre this film really is. Trapped behind a coin operated window, he stares at it intently as a wobbly effect moves toward the window. It bursts open. In successive scenes we discover that it's "tuning". Something we assume is a form of telekinesis, but is in fact much more. That's right, this is a Science Fiction movie, but it leverages film noir an gumshoe cop drama as a framing device and artistic choice.
So what *is* this film about anyways? Well, it tells us right at the start of the second act:
"I don't know who I am by no matter who I am I'm not a killer."
Films, like good story telling, often need to tell you want they're really about multiple times, sometimes in multiple ways. The more cerebral the content, the more often the film will have to do this to get across the point. There's probably a film term for this, but I like thinking of it as "priming". The film is priming the audience with its ideas, so that not only is your disbelief suspended, but you also understand it. The more "out there" a film is, the more they have to do this. Dark City is definitely one of those films.
A key moment that hints at what's really going on is Bumstead's conversation with Walenski. Not only to a *love* the grimy, mad sequence, the set is stuffed to the brim with lovely details about the film itself. Of course, when watching we can only absorb these details briefly.
The reveal of this comes only 36 minutes into the story. Tuning is more than just moving objects with your mind, it's the ability to alter reality itself. And the Strangers aren't ghosts, or spirits, or Lovecraftian horrors (exactly).
"That's the purpose of your little zoo, isn't it? Weren't you looking for the human soul?"
And that's when this film *really* hooked me. This isn't simply an artful piece of SciFi, it's also reflecting on the human condition through it's fantastic elements.
One thing that becomes more apparent as the film goes on isn't that the city is stylized, it feels intentionally discordant. A mishmash of scenes and details. It all feels vaguely like things we've seen in other films with a much more cohesive sense of setting. It all *kinda* works together, but the deeper you look the more it seems off.
The film also accentuates this with discordant details even before the reveal. A hotel manager is seemingly replaced with a completely different actor only a few scenes later. The original hotel manager is later found working at a newspaper stand, claiming he always has.
At this point in the film we know the strangers aren't just remaking the city, but remaking the *people* within it. They move them around, reassign them different lives and different memories to match. Until, once and a while, like Walenski and Murdock, "one of us wakes up". Scheber mentions "You've had stays before", suggesting that there's been a long chain of failed Murdocks throughout the city's history.
The former hotel manager is actually one of the character's who help prove the film's premise. In the first act, and later on the film, he uses the same phrase, "No good days off for good behavior". This suggests something immutable even beyond the Stanger's meddling.
One reason I actually prefer the director's cut is how much more human it treats the sex worker character, May.
In the theatrical cut, she's barely there. She's there to give the film a brief moment of sex appeal, and helps establish Murdock's sense of an irreducible soul. Later, she's brutally murdered by Mr. Hand.
In the director's cut, we're given the detail she has a daughter. She's present both in the initial scene between May and Murdock, and in subsequent scenes including when they find May's body. She drew the Strangers, giving a vial clue to Bumstead that yes, more is going on here than we see. Later, that plays a key role in Murdock escaping the Strangers once more.
Another wonderful think this film does is that with each detail it reveals, it suggests *more* questions.
It's not just changing the city, it's changing the people. Why change the people too? If the Strangers are searching for the human soul, why? How come no one else notices this city changing? Why is there no "outside"? Why is it always night?
Even when Mr. Hand tells us, "The city's ours, we made it," we're left with another question. Even through we know now they fashioned it out of the stolen memories they are not freely remixing in the city's populace, we're left with, "why?"
Perhaps feeling the runtime, Mr. Hand continues, telling us that "we need to be like you". Yet, why, and what the Strangers are is left unanswered. Each answered question gives us a moment's satisfaction, but leaves us wanting more to unlock the total mystery. Meanwhile, it dangles more mysteries in front of us without us really realizing it. Just where is Shell Beach? Does it even exist?
It's some masterful work in terms of writing. Combined with the excellent cinematography, set work, and excellent performances, it's no wonder why I adore this film.
Finally, we get to the fourth act, after following all these myriad clues.
Finally capturing Scheber, Murdock and Bumstead are finally told the entire story. The sequence is kind of a let down in the Theatrical cut, as we have had more than enough narration and details by now to put it all together ourselves. In the Director's Cut, it a satisfying sequence which puts all the details together.
Sutherland actually gives a great performance in here. Not only does he communicate emotion and fear, by the end of it, he evokes sympathy. It's not some villain to be condemned like Dr. Mann in Interstellar, he's a victim like the rest of us.
A wonderful detail here is how the city itself starts to make less and less sense as they travel down the canal to "Shell Beach". It's less complete, less "finished". It's easy to miss on first watch, but I adore this detail.
And finally we get the reveal. Spirals have been a visual motif throughout the film, held up in liminal moments. Scheber's rat maze. Murdock's fingerprints. And finally, we find where all of that is coming from: The "city" is more a space station, a spiral of streets, crumbling buildings, and criss-crossing highway's straight out of Metropolis. And it's arraigned in a spiral pattern.
@socketwench - "And finally, we find where all of that is coming from: The "city" is more a space station,"
I remember seeing this in the theater the first time and there were audible gasps in the theater. I love moments like that.
