Humanity Covets Alien Firepower in Neill Blomkamp's District 9
As the faux-documentary footage near the beginning of District 9 reveals, years ago a race of large, insect-like aliens visited earth only to be quarantined -- after a failed stint a living amongst humans -- in a Johannesburg shantytown. Unable to return to their mothership, which ominously hovers over the decrepit slum, the “prawns,” as they’re known, are eventually placed under the jurisdiction of a large weapons conglomerate known as MNU. The plot details the moral reawakening of corporate wonk Wikus Van De Merwe (Sharlto Copley, oddly resembling filmmaker Spike Jonze), who is nepotistically placed in charge of relocating the troublesome shantytown residents to a tent-city concentration camp further removed from human civilization.
The film’s most obnoxious problems rest in its dramatic treatment of the alien race: the film argues that our inhumane treatment of the aliens has led to their barbarism, yet also holds that same barbarism up for laughs, as the poverty-stricken prawns are viewed with derision, save for the aforementioned scientist, more or less the archetypal noble savage. So, which came first: human atrocity or the aliens’ own coarse nature? Neglecting the history of the prawns – or, more precisely, communicating it entirely through munitions – leaves the question frustratingly stunted.
Most problematically, the filmmakers (this is Neill Blomkamp's first feature) and MNU's nefarious corporate suits have a parallel interest in the subjugated aliens, namely their superior weaponry, which, through complex biotechnology, can only be operated by prawns themselves. Thus, within the story, there are black and gray markets for prawn flesh, which criminal gangs seek to ingest and MNU hopes to synthesize with human DNA, both with the goal of facilitating the use of the alien weaponry by human hands. Similarly, the filmmakers covet the extraordinary (and extraordinarily stylish) firepower of the prawns; as Wikus’ left hand becomes entirely prawn, he’s able to gun down corporate mercenaries and warlords with extreme prejudice. The candy-colored laser guns and pulsating explosives in the prawn arsenal clearly resemble the imaginative cavalcade featured in first-person-shooter video games, which boasts increasingly sadistic means of eliminating enemies (1). Human bodies (those of the evil bad guys) are shredded, exploded and lacerated with this firepower, dwarfing the effects of the shotguns and sniper rifles sported by the human baddies. The quest for brutal alien technology would easily make for great science fiction, but the filmmakers’ helpless indulgence in fetishized weaponry deflates any higher thematic ambition, leaving the film with a blown opportunity at its core. Even Tarantino’s most recent self-professed death-trip Inglourious Bastards can’t claim but half of District 9’s body count.
Both the faux-documentary approach (persistent, yet violated as narrative convenience dictates) and the shaky, hand-held camerawork strike against the film, the former amounting to lazy exposition, the latter, ostensibly reinforcing verisimilitude, achieving a confused mis-en-scene. Still, there are occasional bits of well-choreographed, adrenaline-pumping action, but they are rare in the film and scarcely compensate for the objectionable narrative development.
Lastly, the highlight of the film must be the digital rendering of the prawns themselves, which appear as lifelike and textured as any computer-generated creature has ever looked. The seamless situation of these finely wrought beings within a grainy documentary image makes the achievement of Peter Jackson’s Weta workshop all the more impressive. But while Weta held up their end up the bargain in creating a wholly realistic (light years beyond the computer constructs populating Jackson’s Lord of the Rings series) alien race, Blomkamp has ultimately failed in injecting these creations with a commensurate humanity, not realizing that his would-be allegory depends on it.
District 9 / USA, New Zealand / 2009 / Color / 112 min. / Directed by Neill Blomkamp / Written by Mr. Blomkamp and Terri Tatchell / Starring: Sharlto Copley, Jason Cope and Sylvaine Strike
Body Modification as Spiritual/Aesthetic Renewal in Jason Gary and Greg Jacobson’s documentary, Modify
Modify is a compelling, if one-sided, expose on the increasingly extreme nature of body augmentation and the lifestyles that have sprung up around the practice. Unfortunately for those seeking a worthy narrative (though fortunately for those accustomed to the Youtube Shuffle), it’s more interesting as a gallery of harrowing surgical procedures, liberated self-hood, performance footage and archival curios than as a coherent history of the movement or libertarian argument against those who’d police or disparage it.Interview subjects include a man transforming himself (as far as current technological ingenuity allows) into a tiger via an artificial cleft lip and metal studs in place of whiskers, as well as a handful of industry pioneers who’ve innovated techniques for implants (horns, studs, and various geometric shapes submerged underneath the skin in various locations around the body) and genital piercings.Segments explaining these complex (often ingenious) procedures are of greatest interest: the image of a man splayed across an examination chair, inserting tiny metal balls into his own shaft is not easily forgotten.While it’s nice for those normally offered as colorful extras in film and television to be given a platform for public self-definition, there isn’t much in the way of balance; the filmmakers continually swat at an oppressive status quo that registers as far too distant to create genuine tension. It’s the film’s glaring weakness that its earnest philosophical and aesthetic claims lack polemical depth.
Modify / USA / 2005 / Color / 85 min. / Directed by Jason Gary and Greg Jacobson/ Interview Subjects: Dr. Gary Alter, Allen Falkner, Dr. Julio Garcia, Steve Haworth, Masuimi Max, Fakir Musafar and Erik ‘The Lizard Man’ Sprague