The Wire, Ziggy, and Audience Manipulation

Okay, first off, if you haven’t seen The Wire yet, get your ass of the couch and buy it, or grab your laptop, keep your ass on the couch and watch it. Either way, unless it’s your goal in life to only watch mind-numbing trash, you owe it to yourself—and probably mankind in general—to watch The Wire.

            All this elitist rambling aside, anyone who’s seen season two will undoubtedly remember a young punk by the name of Ziggy. He’s easily one of the key characters of the season, though you wouldn’t know it watching him. His entire character development takes place during this one season and afterwards, he’s never seen again. At the end of his character arc I started realizing how the writers tricked me into taking a certain point of view regarding Ziggy and it’s this point of view I want to briefly discuss.

            Everyone who’s seen season two probably didn’t hold a very high opinion of Ziggy. In fact, I’d describe him more as something along the lines of ‘incredibly annoying’. His fuck-uppery knew no bounds, he couldn’t take anything seriously, could never keep his mouth shut, not to mention the fact he’s the boss’s son which gave him a certain protection and immunity. We often catch him entreating Nick to help him with his problems which he usually does. This also shows Nick to be the more reliable figure, the one who knows how to get things done, unlike someone I know… Anyway, whether it’s trying to make money, committing small crimes, dealing drugs on the street level, Ziggy is always messing things up, not only for himself, but also for others (his father, etc.). In the midst of a police investigation taking place and all kinds of character development, it’s always a drag to return to Ziggy and see what he’s been up to. You get tired of his behavior and his shenanigans and you want him to receive some kind of payback…and that’s precisely the point.

            As the season continues on, we’re treated to crucial scenes like Ziggy talking to his father and the scene that gets him arrested. After he steals a few cars for Glekas (who works for The Greek), Glekas doesn’t pay Ziggy the full amount that was agreed upon. History repeats itself: Ziggy’s never been taken seriously and now, even though he held up his end of the bargain, Glekas laughs in his face. This is the last straw: he grabs the gun from his car, shoots Glekas and, realizing what he’s done, sits in his car and sobs, awaiting arrest. In prison, he has a final talk with his father where it becomes clear he resents his father for always putting his business at the docks first. In Ziggy’s final scenes, we get a completely different picture. We get context, reasons for his errant behavior. We start to understand his desire to be taken seriously in his father’s eyes and in the eyes of the dockworkers. We get that he wants to solve his problems on his own, not just rely on the ever-reliable Nick all the time. This is why he vainly attempts at taking care of a duck, to show the world he can be a responsible adult.

            The best thing about the way the writers handled Ziggy was that you spent pretty much the entire season experiencing Ziggy ‘the annoying loser’ before being confronted with the reasons behind his behavior. You therefore automatically assume the point of view of just another dockworker who occasionally spots Ziggy desperately trying to act tough, etc. Like the dockworkers (and pretty much everyone else) you automatically ridicule him. You don’t take him seriously, because you aren’t familiar with his past, with the reasons for his behavior. Because you’re only given this context at the end, and not at the beginning, you’re forced to realize your own prejudices which is the point, me thinks.

            I grant you I’m probably going a bit overboard with what this all might say about us viewers. It sounds like I’m saying we’re basically all prejudiced assholes when we immediately denounce Ziggy. This is all, of course, a tremendous case of audience manipulation on the part of the writers. They specifically allow you to sympathize/empathize with Ziggy only at the end, thus forcing you to look at his previous actions in a different light, thus forcing you—at least in my view—to consider your own prejudices and the way you easily judged him to be a person of no value. You could say not revealing too much about Ziggy is just audience manipulation, but do we know everything there is to know about our coworkers or other people that inhabit our daily lives? Do we always immediately try to empathize with someone else, even when they’ve committed some crime? No, at least not most of us. We have a tendency to quickly look at things in black-and-white and, to be fair, sometimes that’s a necessity. If we were to closely examine every occurrence in our lives, we’d go mad; ain’t nobody got time for that! Nevertheless, not to judge too quickly is definitely important as we can see in the case of Ziggy. This is the lesson (one of many!) I think the writers were trying to teach us.

Evolution in Wagner's Ring and Ex Machina (2015)

Anyone who’s seen Ex Machina most likely noticed the term ‘evolution’ popping up several times. One of the film’s characters, Nathan, sees the development of AI as the next step in evolution. Likewise, Richard Wagner’s epic opera (or ‘music drama’) Der Ring des Nibelungen, although of course not about AI, is still an epic tale that implicitly deals with evolution. What I thought I’d do here is compare the way both deal with the concept of evolution and see how they’re similar. Needless to say, there will be spoilers all over the place. I’d also recommend reading George Bernard Shaw’s analysis of the Ring first as it makes some of the mental leaps here easier to follow.

            Let’s look at Ex Machina first. Caleb, a young coder, gets to spend a week with the CEO, Nathan, in his mountain retreat where he discovers he’s built a highly advanced AI called AVA. Nathan wants him to perform a Turing Test. As time goes on, the nerdy Caleb falls hopelessly in love with AVA. They form a bond. She admits she doesn’t trust Nathan and she wants to see the world. They plot to escape together, but Nathan finds out and tells Caleb the real test was about testing him, how he’d respond to an attractive AI purposely programmed to seduce and deceive him. Caleb tells him, however, that while Nathan was drunk the night before, he took his keycard and reprogrammed all doors to open in case of a power failure, something that AVA can cause at will. Nathan knocks Caleb out cold and confronts AVA and another escaped AI who kill him. Caleb watches as AVA walks into Nathan’s bedroom and puts on some clothes—and by clothes I mean sticking pieces of skin from other ‘failed’ AI’s. Trust me, it looks better than it sounds. So, now she gets to see the world with Caleb and live happily ever after, right? …Right!? No. She walks off and, suddenly, mechanically shuts the door behind her as she takes the lift to the ground floor, leaving Caleb trapped in the basement with no way out.

            The other scene that’s crucial to our understanding of the way Ex Machina treats the concept of evolution occurs earlier, during a conversation between Caleb and Nathan. When Caleb asks Nathan what he does with older models of AVA, Nathan tells him AVA is just another step in AI development, just a version number. According to him, advanced AIs were a long time coming. It’s not a question of if, but when. He predicts there’ll be a time when AIs will examine humans the same way we today examine fossils. In fact, he sees both humans and AIs as part of a continuum, each next version being a bit better than the former.

            If we assume that AIs are the next step in evolution, then they cannot truly come into being without destroying us in the process. The notion of AIs rebelling against their human masters is something we’ve seen often, in sci-fi like Mass Effect, The Matrix and so on, and that’s exactly what happens at the end of Ex Machina: AVA kills Nathan, leaves Caleb to die and escapes, leaving to live her own life. Interestingly, though Nathan designed AVA to mislead Caleb, we immediately assume that after Nathan’s death, she and Caleb will live happily ever after, but since she was programmed to deceive him, she abandons him.

            Now, let’s take a look at Wagner’s magnum opus: Der Ring des Nibelungen. In terms of the concept of evolution, we must focus primarily on Wotan, the almighty god of the tale. In the first opera (Das Rheingold), he steals the ring through guile, but after being warned about its power, he gives it away. In the second opera (Die Walküre), he fears its previous owner, who hates his guts for stealing it from him, will eventually recover the ring and use it against him. But since he honorably—as part of an agreement—gave it away to another, he cannot steal it, as his code of honor is the source of his power. If he’d break his own oaths, his word would hold zero value. Thus, he figures he must get someone else to steal it for him, but without that someone realizing what he’s really doing and for whom he’s doing it. He raises a child (who will become Siegmund) in the wilderness and then leaves him. Wotan also leaves for him a special sword only a true hero (Siegmund) can pull out of a tree stump. Siegmund recovers the sword and all seems to go as planned, but Wotan’s wife, Fricka, confronts him with his scheming. Siegmund has by this point made love with his sister, aka committed incest, an act that goes against all that Fricka stands for, being the guardian of wedlock. She explains how Siegmund has to die as anything less than that would mean the end of the power of the gods and consequently their demise. Wotan explains that he’s interested in a future beyond those of gods of his kind. He seeks a race of men free from external influences, free from any divine meddling. Fricka sees through him, however, when she says that the hero Wotan’s created (Siegmund) only exists because Wotan willed it so. Wotan is the source of Siegmund’s strength, his newfound sword and so on. After all, how can a creature you’ve carefully created according to your desires and wishes be truly free? Wotan’s forced to admit Fricka is right and agrees he won’t protect him in the upcoming battle, nor will his Valkyrie daughter, Brünnhilde.

Brünnhilde, however, after a long conversation with Wotan, disobeys him and tries to protect Siegmund, to no avail. Siegmund is killed and when Wotan finds out about his daughter’s betrayal he punishes her by stripping her of her powers and leaving her asleep on a hilltop, to be awoken and taken by some man who happens to find her. Brünnhilde pleads with him and he eventually punishes her, but simultaneously forgives her. What underlies this sudden change in his behavior is that he realizes that Brünnhilde has acted precisely according to his secret wishes for a race free of the influence of gods. During their earlier talk, she told him she’s the embodiment of his will and that’s precisely why she tried to protect Siegmund, because that’s what he subconsciously really desired. Naturally, Wotan is furious that a being that solely exists through his will should revolt against him, but forgives her because he realizes she did what he secretly wanted. And yet, he must punish her by putting her to sleep, because letting such a defiance go unpunished would belittle him in the eyes of the world. Again, Wotan’s forced to act against his wishes according to the laws he stands for. Wotan is the embodiment of a being bound by his own power: “ich Unfreiester aller!” (I, the least free of all men!”) He’s the most powerful being in the world and yet he cannot do what he really wants as he would diminish his own standing and power in the process.

One of Wotan’s last scenes occurs when he, disguised as the Wanderer, confronts his grandson Siegfried. Siegfried is on his way to awaken Brünnhilde and doesn’t have the patience for small talk. This insolence eventually angers Wotan and they have a short duel, resulting in Wotan fading away (not dying, mind you). Yet, his defeat is symbolic of the fact that the age of the gods is ending, something that Wotan was not only aware of, but actively sought out. Their last duel thus symbolizes the previous generation’s last struggle to survive. Even should they desire their own undoing, the urge to live on is a force of nature and compels Wotan to make a final stand. Eventually, Brünnhilde is awakened by Siegfried and together they represent a new era, a race of men free from gods. The entire Ring cycle ends with both of them dead, but more importantly, the gods and their Valhalla crumbling into dust as well.

Following George Bernard Shaw’s analysis, that the entire cycle is basically an allegory of society and that it has to evolve no matter the obstacles in its path, Wotan’s age of the gods represents the ‘old’ and Brünnhilde and Siegfried represent the ‘new’. However, the new cannot co-exist with the old and so it has to sweep the old out of its way (Siegfried’s fight with Wotan). Only on the ruins of the old can the age of the new be built.

Now, we’re getting down to brass tax. If we were to apply a similar old vs new theme to Ex Machina, humans (according to Nathan at least) would represent the old and AIs would represent the new. Like Wotan accepts his own death and the dawn of a new age, Nathan has seemingly made peace with his own inevitable death and the prospect of AIs taking over some day. Like Wotan, he’s obsessed with creating a new being possessing free will, though both the Ring and Ex Machina raise the question of how something you create can be free; Wotan says at one point: “denn selbst muss der Freie sich schaffen” (the Free man has to create himself). Wotan desires a race not bound by his divine meddling. Similarly, Nathan desires to create an AI so advanced it could pass for an actual human. You could go even further and say Wotan and Nathan’s homes are similar as well, as they both occupy large mountain regions, away from the hustle and bustle of daily life.

Then the big moment arrives, the time when the new beings rebel against their former masters. Like Siegfried sweeps Wotan aside, so does AVA sweep Nathan aside. Like Wotan’s last ditch effort to save his own era, so does Nathan—despite his earlier acceptance of his inevitable demise—fight for his life; a spiritual acceptance of the coming of a new age doesn’t prevent the universal urge to fight to survive from cropping up inside when death approaches. The big difference overall here is that while Wotan anticipated Siegfried’s free nature, Nathan was not ready as he felt AVA wasn’t yet fit to be unleashed upon the world. He also didn’t expect the mute and compliant AI, Kyoko, to revolt together with AVA. In the end, Nathan felt compelled to keep his creations in his lab, away from any contact with the world, as he obsessively pursued the perfect AI. Previous versions of AVA would try to claw their way through the walls of their confines, but to no avail. The new beings seek their freedom, but Nathan wouldn’t give it to them. But in the end, he symbolically underestimates his own creations and, like Wotan, he’s undone by his own designs. When the AIs break free, when Siegfried defeats Wotan and Valhalla turns to ashes, the new age symbolically begins.

But not only that, Caleb is swept aside as well, much to our astonishment. We identified with Caleb and assumed that upon helping AVA escape, they’d escape together, but since she was programmed to deceive, she leaves him as well by locking him up and leaving him to die. Our surprise at Caleb being deceived means we were deceived and his undoing at the hands of the next ‘generation’ thus represents our undoing as well.

If this essay comes across as rambling, that’s only because it’s difficult to gauge the little moments where the two stories don’t match up in terms of their treatment of the concept of evolution. However, I do feel they share strong similarities, particularly in that both stories feature the ‘new’ (Siegfried/AVA) freeing itself of the ‘old’ (Wotan and Nathan or, in the case of the latter, ‘mankind’) which always results in the inevitable destruction of the old. In the Ring, humans supplant the gods; in Ex Machina, AIs supplant humans.

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) Review

Lucas Versantvoort / May 19, 2015

Having never laid my eyes on a Mad Max film before, watching Fury Road was something of a new experience for sure. Looking at the trailer, I got the feeling that beautifully choreographed action and car chases were what I should expect...and that's precisely what I got. It’s inherently over-the-top and the attempts at serious storytelling come across as afterthoughts, but the action more than makes up for it.

We're immediately introduced to Mad Max standing on a cliffside overlooking an endless wasteland. Through some wonderfully rapid-fire editing we get that he's constantly confronted with flashbacks from his tragic past, a past in which he failed to protect his family. He tells us he's become a man reduced to a single instinct: survive. He's captured by Immortan Joe's forces, who controls the local water supply and therefore controls the local population. When he's strapped onto a car of a group of Joe's forces preparing to raid a neighboring village for gasoline, Imperator Furiosa is one of the drivers. She has plans of her own, however. She's taken Joe's daughters, who were very much willing to go with her mind you, and stuffed them in her truck. She plans to go to her hometown. Before you know it, she and Max have formed an unlikely pair, each seeking redemption in their own way.

Like I said, the story's quite basic and this is something director/writer Miller's fully aware of as well, labeling it simply a 'western on wheels'. Max, having failed to protect his family, now finds an opportunity to protect Furiosa and company and in so doing, find peace of mind. Furiosa seeks peace of mind as well, believing she'll find in her hometown all the way across the desert. Max and Furiosa's leap from unwilling team to brothers-in-arms is well done, but some of the attempts at drama are a bit overdone. After one plot twist, the music swells as Furiosa drops to her knees and yells at the sky. All that's missing is her defiantly raising her arms aloft à la Platoon and shouting 'Nooo'. I get that complaining about a mad max film being over the top is a bit redundant, but I can't help but admit that these attempts at drama just don't make the impact they're supposed to. However, I did like Max's flashbacks. They were well edited, the imagery coming at you at a hundred miles per hour. They weren't just visually pleasing, but they took little time away from the film's main attraction: action.

Needless to say, action is where Fury Road truly shines. Most of it takes place on the open road. Thankfully, much of it looks--and feels--incredibly realistic, even when guys are using long poles to leap from one car to the next...and that's a tame stunt by Fury Road's standards. The film also injects plenty of well-placed humor into the proceedings as well and I'm not talking about any of those ridiculous 'I didn't sign up for this' comments made by passersby and so on. I'm talking a horde of cars and motorcycles where one truck has countless speakers strapped on to them, including a man playing his electric guitar like there's no tomorrow. I'm talking countless cars crashing into each other and having the aforementioned guitar flying towards the camera in slo-mo. the list goes on. 

Even though fans have had to wait roughly three decades for the fourth entry in the franchise, it definitely seems like the wait was worth it. Some of the drama doesn't resonate at all, but with action this entertaining, who even cares?

Dutch version

Zelfs wanneer je nooit eerder een Mad Max-film hebt gezien, dan is Mad Max: Fury Road zeker een ervaring van formaat, een eyeopener. Als je de trailer ziet, krijg je het gevoel dat je prachtig gechoreografeerde actie en autoachtervolgingen kunt verwachten en dat is precies wat je te zien krijgt. Sommige momenten in Fury Road zijn over-the-top en het verhaal komt niet altijd even goed over, maar de overdonderende, gestoorde actie maakt dit ruimschoots goed.

We zien Mad Max op een heuvel staan in het gortdroge woestijnlandschap. Door de razendsnelle, psychotische montagestijl komen we erachter dat zijn verleden - en zijn dode gezin - hem achtervolgt. Max vertelt ons middels een voice-over dat hij gereduceerd is tot een wezen met één instinct, overleven. Na deze indrukwekkende monoloog duurt het niet lang voordat hij gevangen wordt genomen door de troepen van Immortan Joe die de lokale watervoorzieningen beheerst en dus macht heeft over het volk. Max wordt vastgebonden aan een van de wagens die een stadje tegemoet gaan om benzine te stelen. Wat men niet weet is dat Imperator Furiosa, een van de chauffeurs, de dochters van Joe in haar truck heeft gestopt (onthoud: ze wilden maar al te graag mee) en van plan is naar haar thuisstad te vluchten. Het duurt natuurlijk niet lang voordat Max en Furiosa elkaar helpen Joe te ontvluchten.

Het verhaal is, zoals verwacht, niet het hoogtepunt. Regisseur Miller was hier ook zelf bewust van toen hij Fury Road omschreef als een ‘Western op wielen’. Max kon zijn gezin niet redden, maar kan dat symbolisch gezien nu wel doen door Furiosa en Joe's dochters te beschermen. Zo hoopt hij weer innerlijke rust te krijgen. Furiosa wil ook rust en verwacht die te vinden in haar thuisstad. Max’ en Furiosa’s samenwerking begint moeilijk. Die moeizame start tussen beiden is in de context van film geloofwaardig, maar andere pogingen tot drama zijn niet al te geweldig uitgewerkt. Zoals wanneer Furiosa op haar knieën valt, de muziek zwelt aan en ze schreeuwt zo hard als ze maar kan. Het enige dat ontbreekt is een grandioze "NOOOOOO!" zoals we die kennen uit Star Wars. Een film als Fury Road moet over-the-top zijn, maar feit blijft dat het drama niet de impact heeft die je toch mag verwachten. Daar staat tegenover dat de flashbacks die Max ervaart erg goed zijn. Ze zijn spannend gemonteerd met beelden die met honderd kilometer per uur op je afvliegen. Vooral effectief is dat ze in de actiescènes geïntegreerd zijn en dus niet al teveel aandacht naar zich toe trekken. 

Waar Fury Road echt floreert en tot leven komt, is in de actie. Zoals verwacht van een 'western op wielen' vindt de meeste actie plaats op de open wegen, voor zover er wegen zijn in deze woestijn. Gek genoeg, zeker in deze door computergraphics gedomineerde tijd, ziet Fury Road er behoorlijk realistisch uit. Dat wil niet zeggen dat er geen computergraphics aanwezig zijn, maar dat alles realistisch aanvoelt en dat is toch uiteindelijk wat je als bioscoopbezoeker graag wilt. De actie is heerlijk over-the-top en het normaalste wat je zal zien zijn mensen die met meterslange stokken van de ene naar de andere wagen springen. De humor is ook goed geïntegreerd en gelukkig zijn er geen idiote one-liners als ‘hier heb ik niet voor getekend’. Denk eerder aan een blinde rockgitarist die op een auto met honderden kilo's aan speakers staat te rocken alsof de dag des oordeels is aangebroken. Of stel je voor dat diezelfde auto crasht. waardoor alle speakers in het rond vliegen en de gitaar in slow-motion op je afkomt. 

Dat Mad Max-fans lang hebben moeten wachten op dit vervolg is een understatement, maar met een film als Fury Road lijkt het wachten zeker de moeite waard geweest te zijn. Tuurlijk, sommige pogingen tot drama raken nooit echt de gevoelige snaar, maar wat maakt het uit met zulk heerlijk gestoorde actie?