First post

Shit. We're in summer already? Hot damn-three months I wish would end now, kinda like trying to play Final Fantasy IX. So, I was considering, and wound up with a consideration that ran thusly: I didn't learn a thing about writing in McFatso's class last year, and I'm going into a super advanced English class next year, so practice might be a good idea. Attempts will be made, at least once a week, to update this thing. I earnestly hope. With that said, I guess I'll just start my first little pseudo-essay.

SPOILER ALERT

Yesterday I witnessed the paramount achievement that is Vanishing Point. It's a movie about this guy, named Kowalski, who delivers cars, so he needs to deliver this white, 1970 Dodge Challenger to some guy in 'Frisco. Sounds simple. The plot itself was very minimalist: we see flashes to Kowalski's past, usually painful memories, but mostly the film leaves the characters at foundation level, opting that instead of building them, a slab of concrete showing where they would go suffices for development. Aside from Kowalski, none of the characters has any depth whatsoever, from the super-cool DJ "Super Soul" to "Naked chick on motorcycle in the middle of the desert." As such, we have little insights into the workings of the character outside of Kowalski himself, thought that much is understandable: I personally have little insight into the workings of humanity outside myself. So we have a cinematic limited third-person in the works here, though the protagonist himself yields the screen plenty to other characters. Ok, so you're probably thinking in that little mind of yours, "But Rafi, how can it be a paramount achievement if there's only one character who gets any secondary thought at all?" I'll tell you why. The filmakers decided it would be effective to show only Kowalski's life to put everything into perspective. They show all the heartbreak the poor guy dealt with: Losing his girlfriend in a surfing accident, 'Nam, getting kicked off the police for stopping a fellow officer from raping a teenage girl, and a slew of unpleasant wrecks from his professional driving career. These hazy memories, coupled with the bizarre experiences in the desert, wherein he meets the snake hunter with the heart of gold, the crazy Jehova's Witnesses that use said snakes in worship, and the hippie with his aforementioned naked-chick-on-a-motorcycle, all do a stand-up job at illustrating Kowalski's world-view. And it ain't pretty, so to speak. He's offered a few chances to opt out of his mission and join said hippie and other characters for a peaceful life, but as Super Soul continuously reminds him, "You're the only free soul in america." This, my friends, is where the 60's come rushing in and make a mess of everything. This film saw daylight first in 1971, right at the end of the 60's. All that hippie milieu pervades this thing like stink on a dead skunk. So this Kowalski guy, he's a sort of free spirit. He won't stop, not even to live with a naked chick on a motorcycle, not for money, not for the simple reason that he can't go on. So as the cops start closing in, as they prepare their last little trap for him, he does the unthinkable. He drives right into a couple of bulldozers, blowing up his Dodge Challenger and himself in it. And right as he does it, you can see the serene look on his face, and the brilliant light being reflected off the pavement between the two machines. The cops never stopped him, and he won't become like one of those rusty cars stuck out in the middle of some barren field he sees in the opening scenes of the movie. He dies a legend, and he brings his own life to peace.

On a side note, I only saw this movie because of the repeated references from Death Proof. I would like to thank Quentin Tarantino for the recommendation; I verily enjoyed this flick.