Star Trek Into Darkness caught me by surprise. I went into the theater in May, fresh from the winter and not yet exhausted by the sheer mass of explosions this summer’s blockbusters were to provide. I had loved the previous Star Trek, and was ready for the sequel to contain more well-scripted action, well-scripted dialogue, and, of course, well-placed solar flares. And I did get that. But I also got something I did not expect: an anti-war message in a Hollywood blockbuster. To this day I’m still somewhat amazed they managed to put this message in there.
Here are some of the closing lines from Captain James Kirk: “There will always be those who mean to do us harm. To stop them, we risk awakening the same evil within ourselves. Our first instinct is to seek revenge when those we love are taken from us. But that’s not who we are.”
When I heard these lines, I could not help but think of the way America rejoiced at the death of Osama Bin Laden, and how unsettling the whole affair was to me. And, whether you agree or disagree with the film’s message, you have to admit: it took a lot of guts to put it in a summer blockbuster. I’m amazed it made it through the powers that be. That message, along with the fantastic ensemble acting and the wonderful script and action set pieces, made Star Trek Into Darkness one of summer’s best films.
After walking out of the theater after Prince Avalanche, all I could say for about an hour was, “huh.” I couldn’t say much more because I wasn’t sure what I had seen: a quirky indie comedy? A quiet character-based drama? A contemplative, nature-filled reflection on life? Or perhaps a supernatural story of loss? The truth is, I’m still not sure which it was. Perhaps it was a little of everything.
At the end of a summer filled with explosion after explosion, this film was a breath of fresh air. Two men, sitting in the woods, working and talking. The older, played by Paul Rudd, is a middle-aged man, and the younger, played by Emile Hirsch, is Rudd’s girlfriend’s brother. They begin in typical roles, the older one giving the younger advice, and the younger ignoring him and obsessing about women. But, over the course of the film, the roles begin to break down, almost to the point of Lord of the Flies. Both actors are at the top of their game: Rudd, playing the sad-sack with compassion, and Hirsch, managing to get us to like him despite his character’s horrendously juvenile outlook on life and women.
As their quiet drama plays out, we see the background in which the story takes place: a forest, beginning to regrow after a large fire. A particularly moving scene involves Rudd’s character meeting a woman who is sifting through the ashes of her house, hoping to find evidence of the life she once lived. This picture deals a lot with loss, but it also reflects on many other themes, and it never tries too hard to push its points. While I enjoy a simple tale with a clear takeaway message as much as the next guy, the lack of clarity in the movie was refreshing, and I have deeply enjoyed pondering it since long after I left the theater.
— Jared Burseth
