Chris Beaumont

beaumont@ifa.hawaii.edu
2680 Woodlawn Drive
Honolulu, HI 96822

Publication Date: September 29, 2006
Calvin Chimes
Headline: The Paradox of ‘Brick’

Examining Brick

Chris Beaumont

Critics have described Rian Johnson’s first feature film, Brick. as a “spellbinder with grit and gravitas” (Rolling Stone) and “an ingenious mind game” (Empire Magazine). The film, which was presented last Saturday by the Film Arts Committee, was generally well received by those who attended.

By contrast, the group of peers that I viewed the film with hated it. They accused the film of being slow moving, unrealistic, and anticlimactic. My suspicion is that, while many people find virtue in the film, there are several viewers who feel like Brick was a bomb (Skeptical? Check out the lower user reviews for the film on Amazon.com).

While I side with the former group in viewing Brick as an intelligent, stylish suspense, it seems that a review of the film should address the above dichotomy. What is it about the film that impresses some while disappointing others? Paradoxically, I believe that those who enjoy Brick are attracted to the same elements which turn others away from it.

The most notable stylistic element of the film is its contrast between content and setting. Brick is a murder mystery and, as such, focuses on drug dealing, murder, and general shadiness. Such a subject matter appears blatantly out of place in upscale Southern California suburbia – especially when all of the characters are in high school. The purpose for such a contrast is twofold. First, the film serves to satirize the turbulence of high school by portraying it as a literal life-and-death situation (for a lighter but similar critique on high school life, rent Disney’s delightfully over the top Sky High). Second, this subject/setting mismatch creates an eerily surreal world where one cannot get past the feeling that something is very wrong. This mood is enhanced by the film’s dialogue, which pays tribute to the film noir genre popularized in the 1950s. Many of the film’s lines are over the top (“I've got all five senses and I slept last night – that puts me six up on the lot of you.”) and are delivered at rapid pace. Most of the plot is developed through such dialogue – if you aren’t paying attention, you are likely to miss something important – maybe even the climax.

Those who enjoy the film are likely to point to such elements of Brick as an example of a how a familiar genre can be taken in an exciting new direction through its unique use of setting, character, and mood. What might otherwise be a clichéd story is instead seen as fresh and interesting.

Unfortunately, these same stylistic features ruin Brick for several viewers. Regardless of whether or not people enjoyed the film, most of them would have to admit that Brick is a weird movie. Compared to the typical American mystery film, Brick features relatively little action, a great deal of unusual conversation, and characters acting in ways that contradict their age. Viewers expecting a traditional mystery/thriller (an expectation which is fueled by the film’s admittedly misleading trailer) may misinterpret the film’s unorthodoxy as an indicator of mediocre or incompetent filmmaking. While such a reaction is understandable, it is inappropriate not to acknowledge the originality and merit of the film. Brick, like many pieces of art, finds new ways to communicate by challenging the norm. When D.W. Griffith was experimenting with cross cuts in the early 20th century, many felt that the audience would not be able to follow action from one camera shot to another. Now, film shots rarely last more than a few seconds before cutting. It is admittedly a gross exaggeration to equate Brick with a film like Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation. However, like that film, the stylistic ingenuity of films like Brick will shape how the movies of the next generation are made. For this reason, Johnson’s film is commendable, and worth your time.