"You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you don't know for sure."
Looking back, I don't even remember what made me decide to watch Inception. Perhaps it was an online review, perhaps it was a friend's recommendation. What I do remember is finally having some time for myself one boring afternoon and the movie on my laptop (I never caught it while it was still in cinemas - one of my lifetime regrets). So I sat down and took a proverbial train ride, not knowing where it would take me.
That ride ended 2.5 hours later, and with it, my life had changed.
[SPOILERS AHEAD] [IT'S BEEN 4 FREAKING YEARS]
What makes the best movie of all time?
Is it one with the best of every possible feature a movie can have? The most sublime and charismatic performances, the best plot, the greatest plot twists in said plot, with the most jaw-dropping cinematics to top it off? Or it is simply the best experience? A flawed one, maybe, but still a visually and mentally enjoyable spectacle that grips you from start to end, leaving a lasting impression for years to come.
Christopher Nolan's cinematic tour de force manages to be both.
Most of you reading this will have watched the movie already, so I'm not going to go into detail explaining the plot. Cobb and co. are able to able to enter and manipulate dreams, and their target (and would-be "subject") in the movie is Robert Fischer, heir to a multi-billion energy conglomerate, with the intention of incepting the idea of breaking up this conglomerate, to the benefit of their employer - and Fischer's competitor - Saito.
Already, it's sounding like a thriller, and it is. Inception has plenty of spectacle. The action begins about ten minutes into the film, with a break-in, several bullet-into-back assassinations, an armed confrontation and a magnificent collapse and destruction of a building in the dream world, laced with cuts to a rising riot in reality.
Already, the experience is visceral and beautifully crafted, and continues to be so throughout to the end: the scenes in Paris, the snowy mountains, Cobb's memories in various locations - they are all masterfully captured on Nolan's (and presumably cinematographer Wally Fitcher's) preferred format of good ole' 35mm film. Even the cold cement cities and warmly-lit hotel hallways are hauntingly awe-inducing, leaving you with little doubt as to why it clinched four audio and visual-related Oscars. And remember that all this is coming from a guy who watched the film on a crappy laptop display; I severely, severely envy those who managed to catch it on the big screen.
That being said, this beauty is only skin-deep. There's more to it.
Leonardo diCaprio gets the lion's share of attention as the movie's protagonist, and he almost deserves it. Brilliant as he often is, he plays a troubled Cobb to great success; the subtle shift in expression when Cobb attains catharsis in the final confrontation of Mal was just one of his multiple feats in the play. However, I say "almost" because that would be a disservice to the rest of the equally stellar cast - Joseph Gordon-Lewitt deserves praise for his quiet yet effective portrayal of Cobb's right-hand man, Arthur. During the action-packed, multi-dream-level climax of the film, Arthur has next to zero lines; yet, he holds the stage well as the only main character remaining in that particular"level"(hotel).
Mal, played by Marion Cotillard, was chillingly seductive and scary at the same time. While more a flat character as opposed to a fleshed-out, well-developed one, I can't really fault it as Cobb himself points out during his catharsis that she was supposed to be "just a shade" from his memory. I quite liked Ellen Page's performance as Ariadne as well, which was neither overly dramatic nor bland. Sadly, she was the sole female member in a six-person team, though whether a more gender-balanced cast would have helped or hindered will remain an unanswered question.
The main criticism of the cast is a side-effect of the plot; the strong focus on the protagonist narrative causes the team to stand in diCaprio's shadow, limiting them from delivering truly outstanding supporting performances. This is a shame because Nolan, as usual, has taken the route of filling most of the roles with big name actors and actresses; to put so much of the spotlight on one of them is, in my opinion, a bit of a waste. Still, diCaprio pulls it off well, so it doesn't really affect the movie itself.
Already, the experience is visceral and beautifully crafted, and continues to be so throughout to the end: the scenes in Paris, the snowy mountains, Cobb's memories in various locations - they are all masterfully captured on Nolan's (and presumably cinematographer Wally Fitcher's) preferred format of good ole' 35mm film. Even the cold cement cities and warmly-lit hotel hallways are hauntingly awe-inducing, leaving you with little doubt as to why it clinched four audio and visual-related Oscars. And remember that all this is coming from a guy who watched the film on a crappy laptop display; I severely, severely envy those who managed to catch it on the big screen.
That being said, this beauty is only skin-deep. There's more to it.
Leonardo diCaprio gets the lion's share of attention as the movie's protagonist, and he almost deserves it. Brilliant as he often is, he plays a troubled Cobb to great success; the subtle shift in expression when Cobb attains catharsis in the final confrontation of Mal was just one of his multiple feats in the play. However, I say "almost" because that would be a disservice to the rest of the equally stellar cast - Joseph Gordon-Lewitt deserves praise for his quiet yet effective portrayal of Cobb's right-hand man, Arthur. During the action-packed, multi-dream-level climax of the film, Arthur has next to zero lines; yet, he holds the stage well as the only main character remaining in that particular"level"(hotel).
Mal, played by Marion Cotillard, was chillingly seductive and scary at the same time. While more a flat character as opposed to a fleshed-out, well-developed one, I can't really fault it as Cobb himself points out during his catharsis that she was supposed to be "just a shade" from his memory. I quite liked Ellen Page's performance as Ariadne as well, which was neither overly dramatic nor bland. Sadly, she was the sole female member in a six-person team, though whether a more gender-balanced cast would have helped or hindered will remain an unanswered question.
The main criticism of the cast is a side-effect of the plot; the strong focus on the protagonist narrative causes the team to stand in diCaprio's shadow, limiting them from delivering truly outstanding supporting performances. This is a shame because Nolan, as usual, has taken the route of filling most of the roles with big name actors and actresses; to put so much of the spotlight on one of them is, in my opinion, a bit of a waste. Still, diCaprio pulls it off well, so it doesn't really affect the movie itself.
The level of detail that goes into Inception really shines through. This isn't your average summer flick with a predictable, linear storyline. The flashback at the start, the slow, captivating scenes between Cobb and Mal, the fast-paced dream scenes paralleling the van carrying the team falling into the river - everything feels right. You never get the sense that anything is filler; action for the sake of action, pointless dialogue. It's the kind of film that makes you willing to put up with your exploding bladder just to not have to miss a single scene, or even pause it (if you're watching at home).
Here's the thing, though. All of what I've written makes Inception a great, even outstanding film. But it isn't enough to call it best film just yet. What makes Inception best is really because it is the perfect example of movie as art.
There are some movies that are extremely thought-provoking. There are others that are purely meant to be entertaining (i.e. the aforementioned summer flicks). Most fall somewhere in between, but none hit the perfect middle as much as Inception does. It's a film that doesn't underestimate its audience; in fact, it forces them to think every step of the way. Yet, at the same time, it doesn't do that in a way that is exhausting and overwhelming, and it rewards you for the effort. Most crucially, it is a piece of art that is meant to be enjoyed as much by the most avid of enthusiasts as the common movie-goer, and it does so to great success.
Inception is, essentially, a heist film. However, that description alone is so far off from what Inception actually is. It is combines a science fiction flick, a fantasy, a thriller, a social commentary, elements of noir into a beautiful mix that is uniquely apart from any one of these. It has its flaws, but yet it doesn't stop the film from somehow doing everything relatively well.
Usually, trying to be good at everything is the recipe for disaster, especially so for visual media. I doubt that Inception was made in the quest to be good at everything, but yet it achieves it, or at least closely enough. And I have yet to see a film hit the mark this well yet.
Usually, trying to be good at everything is the recipe for disaster, especially so for visual media. I doubt that Inception was made in the quest to be good at everything, but yet it achieves it, or at least closely enough. And I have yet to see a film hit the mark this well yet.
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