Inception

If not for the intense hyperbole that accompanies every new Christopher Nolan film, this review would be relatively straightforward:  Inception is an above average summer movie, complete with never-before-seen set pieces boasting grandeur and clarity, a spiral-trap plot that tickles the brain, competent acting, and genuine imagination.  There.  Sounds like a positive review, right?  Well, it is.  Nolan constructs all his films like a clockmaker – a skilled clockmaker.  They are precise, taut, and the interlocking teeth of the gears are fun (and often hypnotic) to watch.  In short, Inception is a fascinating exercise and is surely better than nearly 75-percent of the releases this year – this being a year with no new Tarantino, Coen Brothers, or Bahrani.  The problem is, that is not how discussions of new Nolan films go.  See, I am not going to use words like “masterpiece” or “brilliant” to describe Inception; I won’t be calling it the best movie of the year or “the best movie I have ever seen” as I have seen it hailed on multiple Facebook status updates; I am not going to join the chorus of unabashed praise hailing Nolan as a genius filmmaker.  A clock is a clock and a film is a film, and I expect a great film to be more than mechanistic perfection and narrative architecture.  Inception is a good film and an interesting one, nothing more and nothing less.

Odds are, with a movie carrying this kind of exposure, you know the basic premise.  Essentially this is the kind of movie that the phrase “high concept” was invented for.  It is a monstrously huge, globetrotting, heist film set in the mind.  The term “inception,” in this case, refers to the act of implanting an idea deep in the mind of a target (played vulnerably by Cillian Murphy) in hopes that it will germinate into behavior benefitting the target’s business competition (Ken Watanabe).  I know – cool idea, right?  And just who is trying to pull off this heist?  Why, a crack team of five dream navigators who I suspect all ordered their outfits from the same spring edition of GQ, that’s who!  But in all seriousness, is there anyone who can pull off a well-tailored suit better than Joseph Gordon-Levitt?  I digress.  Leading the team is Cobb (DiCaprio, squinting intensely an awful lot, though still effective), a man who has a complicated relationship with his own dreams and the dream-version of his wife (played with genuine creepiness by Marion Cotillard) that stalks them.  Rounding the group out are second-in-command Arthur (Gordon-Levitt), architect Adriadne (a solid Ellen Page), impersonator and muscle Eames (Tom Hardy), and finally, chemist Yusuf (always a delight, Dileep Rao).  I have nothing but praise for the cast, who bring focus and gamesmanship to Inception – an incredible feat considering what Nolan threw at them during the shoot, which was reportedly very physically demanding.

After 17 hours of exposition at the top of the film (that I’m surprised wasn’t narrated by Morgan Freeman), the heist plan moves forward and down, deep down into the subconscious of the target.  It is at this point in my plot synopsis where I will take Dante’s advice and “abandon hope all ye who enter here.”  I am not going there.  Just take my word for it – there is a lot going on and frankly I don’t even care if it makes sense.  This complicated business is very well edited, though.  There is one particular section that is so expertly edited that I wouldn’t be surprised if it works mathematically down to the second.  In it, the protagonists exist simultaneously in three levels of a dream (that is, a dream within a dream within a dream) and Nolan intercuts these scenes with the precision of a surgeon.  You see, apparently time moves slower the deeper you go in the subconscious; therefore each dream functions on ever-expanding timelines (i.e., the deepest level proceeds at a slower pace, allowing an entire action sequence to unfold in the short time that it takes a van to fall from a bridge in the upper layer of the dream).  I know, I know.  The point is that Nolan, ever the clock-maker, probably edited those scenes to perfectly match his dream-to-dream time ratio.  It’s impressive.  There is much to be impressed with, as in a zero gravity (can it still technically be called zero gravity if it takes place in a dream, where gravity has little binding effect anyway?) fight in a hotel hallway that left my jaw on the floor.  There is no debating the conceptual coolness and visual imagination on display in Inception.

The problem, as I see it, is emblematic of Christopher Nolan films in general.  Despite a relatively engaging emotional struggle centering on Cobb, his wife and kids, Inception is almost all concept, all mind-trickery, all puzzle box.  Indeed, even Cobb’s struggle to get back to his children seems more like a plot propulsion device; the relationship to his dream-wife more philosophical than emotional.  Inception could conceivably exist without an audience.  It is self-contained, much like the film’s own construct: the paradoxical staircase that need not lead up or down, because it is content to lead back to itself…beautiful to look at, fascinating to observe, but ultimately little more than a curiosity.  Nolan’s approach to this material can be summed up in a recurring shot: the close-up of a watch with its hands speeding up, then slowing down repeatedly, indicating the subjective nature of dream time.  The shot is all mechanism and concept, no human flesh.  This is a Nolan film.  This is Inception.

by Lee M. Krempel