Being John Malkovich

The film Being John Malkovich (1999) was the first invitation into the curious mind of writer Charlie Kaufman. This film encompasses nearly all of the themes discussed in class, however the myth of the twenty-minute lifetime and the world as myth and dream will be my main focus in this reflection. To begin, as the screen fades up from black we hear the sounds of an orchestra warming up and our eyes detect the blue velvet curtains of a stage. Just then the title (Being John Malkovich) appears across the middle of the screen and we hear the clapping of an unseen audience. The blue curtains are drawn as the masterful sounds of the allegro movement of Bartók’s Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta set the ambience for the film we are about to watch. However when the curtains are fully drawn we see not sentient beings as we expect, but merely a puppet. As the brisk natured music softens the puppet begins a deeply emotional interpretive dance climaxing to violence as the musical crescendo intensifies. Finally the puppet falls lifeless in a corner of the small room around which it danced so passionately and the music dies. All is quiet and the puppeteer is revealed, drinking a beer in all his humanness – that is to say his fallacy. Of course at this point the audience is forced to confront many questions; who in life is a puppet and who is a puppeteer? Is the entire world merely a stage on which we all dance? And if so who is pulling the strings? Immediately free will and divine existence are at the forefront of our minds and rarely will they leave throughout the remainder of the film.
In case you have not seen the film some plot structure and character outline is needed. Craig Schwartz is the puppeteer with whom we are introduced in the first scene. He is plagued by a slue of mild neuroses most likely caused by his uninspiring marriage and inability to channel his art form. For just as in our world, his world does not value the art of marionette performance. Craig’s wife Lotte, who has an unhealthy obsession with animals, has filed their cramped apartment with sickly dogs, cats, birds, and a chimpanzee named Elijah. In the beginning, there is a brief but wonderful scene that adds to the humorous and philosophical undertones that move along this otherwise absurd tale. The unemployed Craig is sitting on his couch watching television with Elijah; Craig turns to the chimp and says, “You don’t know how lucky you are being a monkey…because consciousness is a terrible curse…I think, I feel, I suffer...” This scene is made all the more humorous by the fact that Craig, who is essentially drifting though life in an unconscious state, is accusing a chimpanzee, who he calls a monkey (which he is not) of lacking consciousness. Science has long been aware that chimpanzees are capable of metacognition. Craig’s unknowing of this fact only adds to our awareness of his detachment from reality. Ok moving along. Craig is forced to get a job. He is hired on as a file clerk at a company that occupies the 7 ½ floor of a high-rise. His boss is a 149-year-old man with unconventional social skills. Craig falls in love with one of his co-works, the seductive Maxine Lund. One day while working Craig discovers a small door behind a filing cabinet that leads to a portal into John Malkovich. Craig enters the portal and is treated to a short “ride” inside the body of John Malkovich before he is ejected onto the New Jersey Turnpike. Needless to say Craig cannot keep this to himself and he tells Maxine in an attempt to impress her. One thing leads to another and they are eventually selling tickets to the inside of Malkovich’s head. There is also an extremely complicated love triangle that develops between Craig, Lotte and Maxine adding to the question of what constitutes gender and love. It would take an exceedingly long time to describe, much less paraphrase the remainder of the film. I’ve divulged enough of the plot for the purposes of this discussion – Now to examine the themes.
Even though the description of the film’s plot was brief it should be obvious why the two themes chosen fit best. The idea that you can pilot, channel or whatever you want to call it, is an interesting take on the myth of a twenty minute lifetime. In the film each of the characters describe their experience “inside” Malkovich as euphoric, ecstatic, and close to the nirvana. They have truly lived an entire life in the matter of a very short time span. And after their expulsion from the “body vessel” they are change. No longer are they fulfilled by their normal lives. Truly life begins to break down for them, both metaphorically and physically – at least in the mental sense. The three main characters (Malkovich excluded) digress into a life fueled by obsessive addiction of meaningless sexual experiences within the body of John Malkovich. Here the characters do not lack memory of either realm of consciousness they enter into, as with, The Inner Light, episode of Star Trek or even Molloy where the characters loose some knowledge or touch with one of the realities they occupied. In fact in the film Craig learns to control the body of Malkovich, much as he would one of his puppets. In one scene we are treated to an interpretive dance by Malcovich, the same dance Craig performed with his puppet in the opening scene. We now have a clear understanding that Craig is the master of puppets – he has transcended the sniveling, pathetic self we came to know in the beginning of the film to an almost omniscient being, capable of controlling anything he can pour himself into. The audiences’ head is racing with many questions and contradictions at this point. What constitutes the soul and where does it reside? If as many people wish to enter John Malkovich as they please, where is the real John Malkovich – where did his conscious go? When the body dies where is that energy transferred? Do we simply inhabit the closest available vessel?
Clearly this is an extremely complex film (that I am incapable of properly relating) and raises an insurmountable number of seemingly unanswerable questions. But it is important to note and entertaining to watch the themes of the course played out in front of our eyes. In the opening scene we are aware that this is all a farce. As opposed to The Tempest where Prospero reveals the prestige at the end of the play, we knew all along. Despite that knowledge we remain wrapped up in the story of these characters and find ourselves attempting to somehow relate. Is this a fruitless endeavor? Is it pointless to question our position on the stage of life? Are we aware of the set changes and the lifting of the veil? Who are the actors and where is our director? If we miss our line will there be anyone to prompt us? If we cut the strings and move on our own accord will we know when to exit and enter or when the show is over?