ALL THE WORLD'S A DREAM

July 2010

Everyone who goes to the cinema has probably got their own ideas about Inception.  Here are two of mine.

I was taken with the fact of a commercial film which takes place in dreams, because in what does cinema's uniqueness reside if it is not in dreams?  It does them better than novels, better than painting, better than theatre or opera.  Only poetry can come close in capturing the intensity of dreams, the irrationality that holds so much meaning. Bunuel and Dali understood this with their quasi-dream Un Chien Andalou, Cocteau with Sang d'un poète, Maya Deren with Meshes of the Afternoon. So a massive 2½-hour film set in dreams is a treat for the spectator wanting to let his or her imagination run free.

Second thought: while watching it, I was reminded of what happened to Howard Hawks's filming of The Big Sleep, namely that in shooting extra material for the version released in 1946, the studio replaced an explanatory scene between Marlowe and the DA with a conversation between Marlowe (Bogart) and Vivien (Bacall): the racy supplanted the pedestrian.  It meant the audience was more confused than ever by the plot, but more seduced than ever by what was happening on the screen.  There is something similar about Inception: the film preserves a balance between giving some narrative anchors about what is going on and the exhilaration of throwing those anchors away in favour of a visual joy ride.  I had the impression at the end that even after several viewings, the plot would not prove leakproof.  On the other hand, there are plenty of good scenes, which is what the audience really wants, surely?

 

(c) Tim Cawkwell 2010