Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery

Is This Reality?

or

People Who Live in Glass Onions Shouldn't Throw Parties

When last we left renowned detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), he was solving the suspiciously unsuspicious death at the head of the Thrombey clan. In that mystery, one of the biggest puzzles was why he was there in the first place. Oh, he'd been hired, alright, he just didn't know by whom. It was just one of the intricate mysteries at the center of Catherine Wheel of Cutlery that defined that family and was—unofficially and unadmittably—its family crest.

Now, in Glass Onion (unnecessarily sub-titled "A Knives Out Mystery"*), he's inserted into a similar situation; he finds himself an uninvited guest to an improbable clique-gathering of rich-niks on an exclusive Greek island, at the behest of tech-billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton), who has sent mystery boxes to his clutching clutch of friends (whom he dubs "The Disruptors") that, when solved, offers an invitation to his Greek hideaway/headquarters for a weekend that promises a murder mystery and a prize to whoever solves his murder.

The guests are all old friends/associates with Miles: there's Lionel Toissant (Leslie Odom Jr.), a scientist working from Bron's company "Alpha"; there's Birdie Jay (Kate Hudson), former model, "influencer" and CEO of "Sweetypants" loungewear and her assistant Peg (Jessica Henwick)—charged with protecting the Birdie Jay "brand" due to her client's frequent faux pas; there's Duke Cody (Dave Bautista), a men's rights internet "influencer" and his girlfriend Whiskey (Madelyn Cline); there's Connecticut governor Claire Debella (Kathryn Hahn), who has been helped to office by Miles; and finally, there's Cassandra Brand (Janelle Monáe), who co-founded Alpha with Miles and who had been cut out of the company after clashing with him over a new energy fuel, "Klear."

As it's set in 2020 and there's a pandemic on, everyone is required to wear masks until spritzed with an oral COVID remedy. Once everybody's in place, everybody's happy to see each other, surprised to see Blanc, and shocked that Cassandra had "the balls" to attend. Bron is surprised to see Blanc, as well, but for a different reason—he never invited him. Who did? Along with the game that's about to be played, it is one more mystery. Everyone gets settled and gets acquainted, re- or otherwise. It becomes apparent that people are keeping secrets, and most are in some sort of debt to Bron. So, why these folks, why a murder mystery, and...why Blanc?

Why, indeed? But, to mention any more of the details will be to give away 70% of the movie. Why so much? Because you see events played out at least 2½ times. At one point, there is a cameo by Yo-Yo Ma (there are a ton of them**) where he explains what a fugue is, only to have writer-director Rian Johnson do a story version of the same concept in the very movie. Johnson is clearly having fun with the form (just as he did with the "Star Wars" universe, frustrating as it was for Orthodox Fans) and employs some of the hardest tropes in the genre in new and inventive ways. In fact, it rather reminded me of the way Robert Zemeckis capered within his Back to the Future movie in the Part II of the series (which was the one I enjoyed the most). Things are not always what they seem the first time around.

Johnson's co-conspirators in the thing are clearly enjoying themselves: Hudson has rarely been better, clearly enjoying going "all-out" in her performance, and the two actors who have the least screen-cred—Henwick and Cline—are given meaty roles to play, rather than after-thoughts. Norton is his subtly slick self. But, the stand-out (besides Craig's enjoying re-toying with the Blanc character) is Monáe, who has the toughest role, but pulls it off with what would appear to be the least amount of effort. It's part of the charm of the movie.

The other lovely thing about what Johnson is doing with the Blanc series is the sociological perspective. Just as Billy Wilder made movies that played with—and passed a sort of judgment on—the mores of their times, Johnson is making sly comments on worth and celebrity these days.

One doesn't have to make a large leap to figure out who the inspiration for Miles Bron is, but one could also make a case for a few other venture-capitalists who have a great idea but a better way to make other people pay for it. Once the money has rolled in, they can "exert influence" to buy secure the talent needed to make it work. If it doesn't work, you end up in court for fraud. If it does work, well, that was the intention, and if it works a little bit, you can spin it to say it was a complete success. This would be called "public relations."

As such, Blanc sticks out like a sore thumb in the crowd. He's not a "disrupter" (although he's better at it than anybody else on the island), but looks for truth within the bounds of "the System" among all the spinners, shakers, hangers-on, and wannabe's that surround him. Everybody talks a good game, but for Blanc it's no game. Lying is easy, but hard truths are...hard. Even when no one will admit to it. But, then, they have their reasons, and their reasons are that fame is fleeting if not buttressed with hard cash. Truth lasts.

Beneath it all, it's a fight for Truth—far beyond anything else that might be transitorially valuable. But, it's a hidden message hiding in plain sight among the cameos, trickery, feints, and revelations that Johnson delights in cramming into every frame with the hope of throwing you off the scent. My favorite example is the guy who lives on the island who wanders, drunken or high, into the frame and waves off with a "Just ignore me." But, should you? The character is named Derol, but I have a sneaking suspicion his real name might be "Red." As in the Herrings?

* Is that because no one would associate it without the allusion to Knives Out, or no one (at this point) is familiar enough with the character of Benoit Blanc? It's a mystery, itself. As such, that appendage is as irrelevant (and will be increasingly so) as the titles of the so-called "Thin Man" series.

 

**

Benoit Blanc on a Zoom call.

That would be Stephen Sondheim, Natasha Lyonne, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Angela Lansbury. 

 

This is just a distraction...and a nearly naked attempt to get clicks.
 

Welcome to Marwen

The Island of Misfit Toys
or
The Wartime-Love-Child of G.I.Joe and Malibu Barbie

The story of Mark Hogancamp would be an interesting one, if it wasn't so goddamned tragic. An illustrator of some note, Hogancamp was also a blackout drunk who would have surely come to a bad end eventually...if he hadn't been savagely beaten by a bunch of punks at his favorite watering hole and left for dead. Found in the street in a coma by a bar worker, his injuries included severe head trauma and limited motor skills that only strenuous rehab allowed him to walk again. When he emerged from treatment, he was a changed man, completely—he could walk but he couldn't draw, his drinking urges were gone, and all of his memories were completely erased. All he remembered of the attack is the word "queer" (he had mentioned that he liked to wear women's shoes) and Tammy Wynette singing "Stand By Your Man" on the jukebox. 

And he had a crippling case of PTSD, that forced him to rarely venture away from his house.

He walled himself there, afraid to venture out unless it was on the safest of journeys—to the bar (where he worked odd jobs) and to the local hobby store, mostly. But, his creative urges never completely submerged. He couldn't draw anymore; he could barely sign his name. Instead, he began to make photographs—creating his own little world of World War II images, set in the mythical Belgian town of Marwen—"Mar" for his name and "Wen" for the bar-maid, Wendy, who found him broken in the street that night and saved his life.

Hogancamp's images are odd and powerful, moving between realism and fantasy—the details so scrupulous, the vehicles so weathered, that I've seen some passed around as actual war photographs on the internet* (because social media is so TRUTHFUL!**) with the protagonist—a flyer named Captain Hoagie who crashes into the town of Marwen, inhabited by strong, capable women who protect it, with the lone exception of Marwen's witch, the evil Dejah Thoris,*** as well as the parade of Nazi's who torment Hoagie, that he be saved by Marwen's women. Hogancamp's story was told in a 2010 documentary Marwencol, which made the rounds and garnered enough attention for Hogancamp's "art installation" that it threatens to interfere with his disability checks on which he depends.

Hogancamp's story (external and internal) is the basis of the new project of Robert Zemeckis, the director for whom reality never seems good enough, expanding his stories with extensive special effects, even choosing to abandon reality completely with films depending completely on motion capture, even extending to the lead performances of its expensive stars.

He starts out Welcome to Marwen, not by introducing Hogancamp (played in the film by Steve Carell, but by introducing his inner world as we watch Captain Hogie on a bombing raid high above Belgium. Pretty soon, the air is filled with flak and Hogie's plane is hit and starts losing control. As the wings catch fire, Hogie struggles to regain control and ultimately crashes in a shallow river. When he bails out, his shoes are on fire ("Goddamn flammable Army-issue boots!"), and after a jump in the mud puts it out, a peeling off of the soles reveals the his feet are segmented...like a doll's.

Hogie finds an overturned vehicle as he makes his way down a Belgian road. Inside the vehicle is a suitcase filled with "frilly under-things." And a pair of high heeled pumps. He puts them on and is satisfied ("Not bad. Not bad at all."). But, confronted by a group of Nazi officers, they get the drop on him and begin to mock him for wearing high-heels. They attack him, leaving a nasty scar across his face, but before they can kill him, five women pop up out of the grass, firing rifles riddling the Germans, who fall to the ground in frozen doll-like poses that defy gravity.

[CLICK] The plasticene look of the figures are revealed to be dolls being photographed by Mark with an old Pentax camera, perpetually smoking a Pall-Mall, talking to his figures, adjusting, making still-lives of the story in his head. When he's done, he tidies up his little town of Marwen that he's erected in his side-yard—then, he opens one of the false facades of Marwen on his house which serves as a hobbit-heighth entrance inside to his intricately decorated house, split between dimensions of life-size (like Mark) and 1/6th scale (like his figures). He drops his dead Nazi soldiers into a plastic Tupperware bin marked R.I.P. A good day's work.

He avoids calls from his lawyer, who wants him to appear at the sentencing of the creeps who assaulted him. He notes a new neighbor, Nicol (Leslie Mann) moving in across the street, and the arrival—then forced leaving—of her abusive ex-boyfriend, Kurt (Neil Jackson), then his Russian caregiver, Anna (Gwendoline Christie, and yes, she's one of the "women of Marwen") stops by with groceries and his subscription of anxiety med's—he takes one and goes to bed.

This is his day, but his nights are restless, plagued by PTSD nightmares that he's being strafed by those five Nazi's (who we'll see resemble the creeps who beat him up) while Hogie and the women defend themselves at the Marwen pub, "The Ruined Stocking."

On good days, he'll load up his army into their jeep for a long stroll down the street—the better to give the jeep a weathered look—to do some work at the bar where he was attacked, cleaning up, working in the kitchen, check in with Carlala (Eiza González, another of the women), then visit the hobby store where he finds his figures and their fashions, under the guidance of Roberta (Merritt Wever), who is fond of him and encourages his artwork, helping to set up a gallery showing in New York.

Zemeckis' movie veers between Hogancamp's reality and fantasy life, which creates a dramatic tension between the mock-heroic brio of the dolls and the fragile, damaged reality that he lives in the day-to-day. The two wage war with his psychological well-being and it bleeds over into the movie, as well. The tonal shift is the biggest issue with Welcome to Marwen (although it's probably the reason Zemeckis was drawn to the project in the first place, working with scenarist Caroline Thompson, who wrote Edward Scissorhands, The Addams Family, The Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride).

"To the women of Marwen"—they drink alcohol; he drinks coffee.

Carell's Hogancamp is such a troubled, docile figure that you get a severe disconnect with the fast-paced, occasionally goofy rambunctiousness that the doll-fantasy sequences evoke. You wonder how Carell's Hogancamp can keep these weird hyper goings-on in his head without exploding or going nuclear. Mentally, those sequences veer into "fight" mode, but his actions in the real world are of the "flight" variety, and, although it tries to come up with a scenario where the two can be resolved, it doesn't really work, not to any degree of satisfaction. At the end, Hogancamp appears far more courageous and risk-taking, but how he gets there is inexplicable.

His relationship with neighbor Nicol is also troublesome. Yes, Hogancamp is damaged. Yes, he is barely under control and (mostly) harmless to anyone but himself. But, the way his fantasies influence his reality—especially, in regards to her—makes him pursue a course that falls into "stalker" mode, making him, in the big picture, little better than the "Kurt" character he loathes...and fears. It is that aspect of the story that is the biggest failure of the film—one sees Hogancamp's motivations, but he has no real conflict other than with the differences between his fantasy reality and his true reality, essentially creating drama in his real life to match his fantasies, not unlike a lovesick and clueless suitor. If one has any sympathy for her, Carell's Hogancamp appears dangerous and unsympathetic, which tests the audience's resolve. Ultimately, the "Nicol" character serves no good purpose other than as an excuse for some exposition that gives us a little more explanation of what's going on in Hogancamp's head besides doll-fights.

I haven't seen Marwencol (the trailer is below), but I'm sensing that, without the dizzying, dizzy doll-sequences, the documentary gives more insight into his mind-set than including all the sequences with play-sets.

For a movie to truly work, it needs to communicate below the surface-level. In the case of Welcome to Marwen, it does not show us what it's like to walk around in somebody's army-boots...or fashionable pumps.

The Heroes of Marwen—the fantasy versions

* This top image is the one I saw posted on Facebook that was posted as a meme.

** sarcasm alert

*** For those familiar with the work of Edgar Rice Burroughs, you will recognize the name "Dejah Thoris" as belonging to the Princess of Mars from Burroughs' "Barsoom" stories.