Friday, April 9, 2010

The Road

After watching Vanishing Point, I can't stop thinking about the protagonist. Kowalski is completely deadpan throughout the film. He is first and foremost a driver with his eye on the finish line. I loved this about him. His focus on the road allowed me to focus on the road, and the experience was visually awesome.

There were moments throughout Vanishing Point that challenged Kowalski to break from his disaffected demeanor. But he never did. For one, he didn't show overt signs of surprise when Super Soul first addressed him over the radio waves. But I was more intrigued with his rejection of the nude biker's offer to fool around with him. So much of Vanishing Point exploited our desires as an audience, especially those of an alpha male, America loving, desperate for speed kind of guy. The nude biker was a gift to anyone who'd ever dreamed of that. The lighting and music even made her look like a dream. As a consequence, I expected Kowalski to say yes to her offer to have some fun. But he was focused, his goal in mind, and nothing was going to get in his way. Sexual desire seemed trivial up against Kowalski's drive.

And yet that drive wasn't enough. Kowalski's ride comes to an explosive finish when he drives straight for the center of the barricade set up by the state police. In the reading, John Beck says that Vanishing Point "refuses the escapism of the road movie genre and instead pursues the logic of maximum efficiency internalized by the film's protagonist. As such the film questions the libertarian rhetoric of the open road and instead proposes that American fictions of free mobility mask the fact of containment by military-industrial imperatives." Beck's argument is vast and hard for me to pick apart. But I agree with the general ieas he proposes, that Vanishing Point is not about escape but containment. This containment is demonstrated by the forces that keep Kowalski from making it to the finish line. These forces consist of the state police, who seem inadequate as individual squads, but simply outnumber Kowalski--it's an unfair fight.

Kowalski s not the only one to lose out; the citizens who cheer him on are left unsatisfied. So is Super Soul --but this doesn't quite last. While the white Americans in this seem completely deflated at the loss of a hero, Super Soul returns the the radio waves -- even after being brutally defeated by the police officers -- to broadcast from the boarded up station. Unlike Kowalski, his spirit seems to come from something more than just Kowalskis. He has religion and an unbelievable faith in what he's doing on the radio. Director Richard Sarafian seems to value this kind of individual persistence. Super Soul has soul: an important resource to survive the oppressive landscape of America mapped out in Vanishing Point.

2 comments:

  1. I really enjoyed watching Super Soul on the screen. He really had this presence of just feeling like a revolutionary and creating this social rebellion back when radio as a medium actually had a massive impact on American culture.

    It's unusual because when you're first introduced to him, he just walks across the street peaceful as if he's just an average blind man. Then he goes into the radio station and a completely different character just erupts.

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  2. It's funny how we want to forget that Supersoul was apparently beaten into selling out--and threatened into it even before he was beaten. That storyline wasn't really made clear.

    This is a really, really good blog entry though. What's really effective is that you put yourself, as an American man, inside Kowalski's mindset, and notice where he does and doesn't behave as you would expect him to. It's a useful way of reading, and you manage to use this identification to see the larger political picture as well.

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