Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Netflix Review of the Week: Compliance
As fans of Breaking Bad know, a fast-food chicken restaurant can be a haven for debauchery. The employees at Chickwich, the fictional chicken shack in the frustrating and fascinating Compliance, aren't killing Mexican drug cartels or slinging blue meth, but they seem to have taken a couple puffs from the pipe of idiocy.
It's important to note that Compliance is based on a true story. Frankly, the movie just wouldn't be the least bit believable were it not.The manager of Chickwich, played to perfection by Ann Dowd, receives a phone call informing her that one of her employees, an attractive young woman, has committed theft in the restaurant. The caller claims to be a police officer, but it quickly becomes evident that either this policeman is either sickeningly fond of eschewing standard protocol, or it's some sort of prank. While the answer becomes increasingly obvious to the viewer, the Chickwich employees never waver in their compliance (yes, I realize I used the movie title here) with the instructions of this caller.
The story is essentially a modern-day Milgram Experiment. How far will people go when being told what to do by an authority figure? Why do they do it? Is it because they feel they aren't responsible for their actions if they are being given orders? Is it a deeply ingrained respect or fear of authority? Group think? Are they just freaking idiots?
Many viewers of Compliance will chalk this up to it just being a case of a few moronic small-town fast food workers being duped. While I'll cop to being floored at their lack of queries as well, this behavior is a sociological phenomenon that even those of us who scoff at the characters in the movie should admit we may also be susceptible to, albeit not to the extremes on display in the film.
How many people with far more impressive pedigrees than I have been more than willing to accept our own government at its word when it tells us that Iraq must be invaded because of their weapons of mass destruction? How many people are more than happy to have many of their civil liberties infringed upon because they're told it might prevent a terrorist attack? As the gap between the rich and everyone else continues to widen, how many people are content to lie down and accept whatever scraps they are given by their employers? Most importantly, why am I asking so many questions in a movie review?
The fact is, most all of us are in fact compliant with authority figures, at least to some degree. While that isn't always necessarily a bad thing, Compliance reminds us that the old saying "Question Authority," still has a place in society.
It's important to note that Compliance is based on a true story. Frankly, the movie just wouldn't be the least bit believable were it not.The manager of Chickwich, played to perfection by Ann Dowd, receives a phone call informing her that one of her employees, an attractive young woman, has committed theft in the restaurant. The caller claims to be a police officer, but it quickly becomes evident that either this policeman is either sickeningly fond of eschewing standard protocol, or it's some sort of prank. While the answer becomes increasingly obvious to the viewer, the Chickwich employees never waver in their compliance (yes, I realize I used the movie title here) with the instructions of this caller.
The story is essentially a modern-day Milgram Experiment. How far will people go when being told what to do by an authority figure? Why do they do it? Is it because they feel they aren't responsible for their actions if they are being given orders? Is it a deeply ingrained respect or fear of authority? Group think? Are they just freaking idiots?
Many viewers of Compliance will chalk this up to it just being a case of a few moronic small-town fast food workers being duped. While I'll cop to being floored at their lack of queries as well, this behavior is a sociological phenomenon that even those of us who scoff at the characters in the movie should admit we may also be susceptible to, albeit not to the extremes on display in the film.
How many people with far more impressive pedigrees than I have been more than willing to accept our own government at its word when it tells us that Iraq must be invaded because of their weapons of mass destruction? How many people are more than happy to have many of their civil liberties infringed upon because they're told it might prevent a terrorist attack? As the gap between the rich and everyone else continues to widen, how many people are content to lie down and accept whatever scraps they are given by their employers? Most importantly, why am I asking so many questions in a movie review?
The fact is, most all of us are in fact compliant with authority figures, at least to some degree. While that isn't always necessarily a bad thing, Compliance reminds us that the old saying "Question Authority," still has a place in society.
Movie Scene of the Day: Buffalo 66
All this talk of the 4th dimension reminds me of the simple pleasure of spanning time:
"Let's look like we like each other and span time, but do not touch me. Okay? Do not touch me."
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Meanwhile, off the coast of Alki...
...I haven't been able to get the song out of my head since I watched this video. So basically this post is a selfish attempt to transfer the annoyance to the next reader à la Mark Twain's Punch, Brothers, Punch. (What? You haven't read it??)
As a semi-responsible blogger, I feel I should provide some context for this video. If for no other reason than to offer it as minimal restitution for getting the cursèd song stuck in your head:
In a post in the comments thread of an August 2 story in the West Seattle Blog, Diver Laura describes how the Alki "Junkyard" came to be so named: "At some point in West Seattle History folks decided to dump things there, like old computers, car parts, washing machines, bathtubs, toilets, etc." Sadly, the area has experienced a recent spate of do-gooding and the last few years have found philanthropic divers not only removing the detritus for which the area is named but also adding "neat enhancements."
That's enough.
I'm exhausted.
In a post in the comments thread of an August 2 story in the West Seattle Blog, Diver Laura describes how the Alki "Junkyard" came to be so named: "At some point in West Seattle History folks decided to dump things there, like old computers, car parts, washing machines, bathtubs, toilets, etc." Sadly, the area has experienced a recent spate of do-gooding and the last few years have found philanthropic divers not only removing the detritus for which the area is named but also adding "neat enhancements."
That's enough.
I'm exhausted.
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